aaOf course you can post here, as long as its Freelancer related

A quick test revealed that 45000 characters will post, but wont show properly, so basically I have no idea what the char limit is. Bear in mind that people are unlikely to read 350 pages of a story in one go, so seperate it into managable chunks and post one every few days. Look foward to reading it!

Edited by - Sybot on 1/2/2006 1:28:17 PM

All right. Thanks for your reply. Hence there is no disagreement I suppose it is okay for me to start. If it's not feel free to shout "stop".

Before I post the prologue, I want to give the promised introduction. It is really difficult to sum an entire complicated story up). You don't really have to read it. It is not definitely necessary. You can, if you are interested in the old story's content. The links between the main characters resulted from the things they experienced there. If it is too much for your taste, you should maybe just scroll down to the end of the post where I made some technical remarks.


The story Night Falcons starts with Rhineland Navy officer Sebastian Bergander being transferred as Second Officer on board of the Hessen, a ship of a new light carrier class being built in a secret yard in Dresden.
He has just been commanding a gunboat before (the ones you know from the story), but is forced to leave due to a disciplinary punishment.
He does neither like the new ship, nor the captain, who is a coward and screws the first real battle, which happens when Liberty attacks the secret yard.
All three other houses believe that the new ship class is designed to operate with a cloaking device, although everyone believed it was lost after the Nomad war (more than 30 years ago).
Anyway Rhineland's secret service (RGD) has gotten ahold of the these plans and built a secret station in New Berlin's deep space. Dreamland.
No one really knows about this. During the attack, the cowardish captain decides against all better knowledge to flee to unregulated space. An odyssee starts for ship and crew until they reach New Berlin again. (Most crew members die in various attacks, battles with the Kusari, who joined the war and after a large fire on board - Bergander is forced to assume command).
During that time they have met many people as well and Bergander has made friends with Will Reaburn, a young navy officer from Liberty, whom he kept on the ship, because Reaburn's secret orders would have said that he has to die (he was member of a secret unit which used stolen Rhineland gunboats for secret missions).
In Rhineland they are assigned to home defence, but soon after put under command of the RGD (Bergander's ex Linda Klange is commanding the secret service unit on board). The flight to Dreamland starts where they get a cloaking device and head off to Bretonia, which is the major threat at that time. They destroy one ship in Cambridge, but the Bretonians react accordingly and hide their ships until they are able to lay a trap in the Manchester system. The Hesses loses the cloaking device and Bergander is forced to surrender.
Liberty declares war on Bretonia and attacks them in Manchester because of the cloaking device. Bergander, Reaburn and a few others are able to flee and return to New Berlin. The RGd tries to kill them, because they know too much, so the Westfalen's Captain (an admiral) helps them to flee to the border worlds. Total war breaks out in Sirius.
Weeks later the ship's new captain (the admiral was forced to kill himself) calls them back to find out why all this happened. They tell their tale of the cloaking device and the Westfalen's captain decides to destroy the station.
They just do not have the exact position and the war enters a new phase when all other houses try to get the device and the station's position as well.
Bergander and Reaburn are forced to leave after a mutiny on the Westfalen and come as prisoners on the Yukon (lieutenant Commander Hart is 2nd officer there).
The ship is hit hard during the Dreamland battle, when the Westfalen destroys the station. Bergander and Hart's escape pod is taken on board by a Bretonian ship. They come as prisoners to planet New Berlin (in Bretonian hand, because they won the battle).
Bergander becomes military advisor of Rhineland's new chancellor until the end of the war. Then he goes with Reaburn to Kusari to take a holiday. (end of original story)

Extension: They are called back into Rhineland service and fly to New Berlin, where Bergander decides to visit the widow of one of his friends. Reaburn flies directly to the Oder Shipyard, where they want to meet again.
Unortunately someone in High command forgot to include into the letter that strange things happen in New Berlin. Someone has been kidnapping and murdering high ranked officers.
Bergander gets caught as well and is brought to an asteroid miner.
Reaburn is forced to assume command of a new battleship (the Rügen), where he should have become Bergander's first officer. He is forced to search for pirates instead of searching his friend, but a pilot (called Sorsa) who also served on the Hessen and is also Bergander's friend decides to go and search for him. He leaves the Rügen and heads to unregulated space (to the Red Hesians where his real father lives).
Meanwhile the Rügen has almost been entered by pirates and gets attacked by ships with cloaking devices (again the cloaking device should have been lost). Reaburn feels unable to cope with this threat and flies back to New Berlin.
Sorsa finds the solution in the border worlds, but he shall fly to the Tau systems where the messenger will come from. It is the man who shall murder Rhineland's chancellor. One of the kidnapped officers, who has been broken by torture.
The Bretonians (on the ship Cardiff) are able to rescue Bergander from the asteroid miner where he was kept prisoner, but they are unable to prevent things from happening. The chancellor is murdered on the Rügen and the Rhinelanders assume that Reaburn is a traitor. He is questioned under the influence of dugs while a bomb explodes on the bridge and kills his first officer (his great love). A 2nd officer does not exist so the crew is unable to destroy the ship when it is attacked again. The Asgard (the organisation behind all this) seizes the Rügen and kills the crew apart from three people. The messenger, Reaburn and a pilot called Hansen.
The other house's ships are trapped and destroyed. The Cardiff's crew abandons the ship and is taken on the Rügen. The carrier Rügen shall become the way for the Asgard to gain control over Sirius. They got the plans for the cloaking device from a RGD agent on Dreamland station before it was destroyed. They want to built one into the Rügen and therefore seized the ship.
The prisoners are taken to various prison stations. In case of Bergander, Baxter, Reaburn and others it is Dortmund Station in New Berlin. There they are abandoned to take care of themselves as political prisoners without hope of ever being rescued while the Asgard conquer Sirius. (end of extension)

Return to nowhere plays after that.

Technical remarks:

" " Always means direct speech in my story.
' ' symbolize a character's thoughts. I always try to refer to it with explanations like thought etc, but if I ever forget about it, you will hopefully know.

If you dislike something, feel free to post it immidiately. I am used to an open and honest dialogue with my readers (including critics of any kind and very important: corrections of errors in content and spelling). I tend to suffer from author's blindness (as we call it at university) from time to time.

The final remark is again related to the language problem. I am used to writing in German (and even that not perfect) and so there will probably be loads of errors. Some are definitely the result of wrong interpretations of my dictionary, which has become my best "friend" during the last days. If there are five different explanations for one expression I only know in German, I am very unlikely to find the right one in English. It is a bit like playing and (hopefully) winning the lottery.
For the grammar and spelling errors (including the punctuation) I am fully responsible. I hope it is readable anyway and wish that you enjoy the story!




Edited by - [WPIcefox on 1/18/2006 9:13:02 AM

As long as you obey the forum rules there should be no problem.

If you are really concerned about grammar and spelling, you could email the story to me and I could try to help, I'm not saying I could make it prefectly faultless, but I'm willing to try.
I just don't know how long it will take as I have my own writing and I'm currently working.

Good luck to you in any case

Thanks for the offer! That would certainly be great. Maybe you could take the parts of the story I already have posted (if it is not too much for you). In my early times I sometimes used to post such an amount of text as above per day. I figured it would definitely be too much for this forum (and also for me). I thought about maybe one unit per week or if at all... 2. If that would be okay with you, I would be really glad if you could copy the parts from the forum into word, have a quick look over it and send it back to me via e-Mail so that I can replace the forum version with the corrected one.
I can understand though, if you got other things to do. Especially if you are writing on your own.


And now for all others of you the beginning of Return to nowhere:



Prologue

A strange noise behind him made him wake up. It was the noise of steps in the dirty yellow brownish snow, which was everywhere at this alien place. It had been snowing again. Big flakes had come down from the sky and rested upon his provisional sleeping bag, made of some rags and the one blanket he had been given. A normal man would never have found any comfort in these, but he was used to it. Had gotten used to it within the past weeks, because these rags provided the only comfort and shelter in his situation.

It had been different a few months ago. So much different. Now the happiness which he had felt was gone. He wished to get back. Wished it with every bit of his entire being. Lieutenant Commander Will Reaburn longed to get back home.
He found himself shivering and opened his eyes. Sleep had been a gift. A present to his battered and frozen body. As far as he could guess the temperature was belows zero degrees Celsius. This place seemed ultimately hostile to mankind. Due to the wind which was blowing all the time it felt so much colder than it really was.

A growl in his stomach overshaded all the pain he had felt before. How much time was it ago that they had had something to eat? That there had been anything to eat rather. It seemed like days, although he had lost any track of time anyway. A short moment he felt anger. Some others definitely had eaten something. He had not.

An irrational fear came into his thoughts: ‘What, if I am the next prey to be eaten?’ There was not so much of a difference between the handful of wild animals they had seen and his own mates. And that was the most surprising thought that had occurred to him, because a part of his starved body felt like they probably did. It longed for food. Even if it was animal meat. It would provide energy to produce warmth, otherwise he would probably freeze to death. Also not an unfamiliar thought. He had been in situations like this one before.

On the other hand it had never been that long and there had always been some kind of rescue. Not expected, but it had always been there. His friend had been there. Again the pain came up to him, this time directly from his heart. Why had he been somewhat foolish? Cursing was something he rarely ever did, but he condemned himself for what he had done. For what had happened. It could never be remedied again, although he had tried. Tried before they had left. Now he would die here, just like everyone. Die without hope and without seeing his home again. Without a chance to apologize.

Again he heard the noise caused by the snow. It made him freak out for a second, imagining the approaching guy had a knife in his hands to take his life. With all strength he could summon, he suppressed his fear, prevented his body from shivering again and turned himself around, pulling the blanket, which did not even deserve the name, off his body.

Immediately he got the feeling he would freeze. Snow from the wind shelter he had built with watery snow. He spat instinctively out and tried to get up. It was a difficult thing to do when you got the feeling that all your bones are frozen as well.

“At ease, Lieutenant.” The words came out as a whisper, barely to be heard over the howling cruel wind. “There is no need for haste.”

‘Surely not anymore.’ he agreed in thought without really saying these words. Of what use would it have been?

Of course his superior had not come to kill him. He never would, although things between them could have been better. They had been also some kind of close… once. At another time, years ago. Before things had gone differently. Surely the younger officer had never seen any prison station from inside. The happy feeling after finding out that the other had also survived the great factional war between Rhineland, Kusari, Liberty and Bretonia had been overshaded by the sudden knowledge that the former Yukon's Second Officer was not the same anymore. He had come to see things differently. He had been promoted and become a superior. Maybe he still believed the propaganda about traitorship, although it had apparently been false. Only now… in this hopeless situation, Captain Jason Hart seemed to forget about it.

“Any news, Sir?” Reaburn knew the answer to the question even before he had asked it. Still he could not suppress the need to do it however.

With a helpless gesture the man sat down on the so called bed. “Nothing.”

It was a picture to feel almost sorry for. The twilight only made it appear worse. Inside him, the urgent need to say some comforting words to the senior officer lost the battle against the knowledge that there would be no gain from it. No use for it. No sense in it. There was an abyss, which could not to be crossed this way. He started to get up again.

“What are you doing?”

“I will relieve you. It’s my watch, Captain.”

“No, it’s not. Sit down again. Please, Lieutenant Commander.”

For all the time being it must have been the first time that his Captain had ever used and accepted his full rank, which had been accredited by the Rhineland Navy long ago. He was so stunned that he indeed obeyed.

“Thank you. You know…”

Staring into the snow he waited for further explanations to come. He had never seen the Captain in this mood.

“You must surely be hungry, Will.”

Any preparation had been useless. He shuddered and thought his ears had betrayed him. He had never allowed that. Never wished it.

It seemed that the Captain had already sensed that he had gone too far with this intimidation. “Sorry. I… just thought I would bring you some food. We found it near the ship. The emergency kit must have been thrown out when we crashed. I found it close to one of the engines. It is not much, but I wish that you eat.”

The stream of words reached his ears, but did not pass it. He just looked at the package. Emergency rations. Enough for a few days if they were cautious with it. If no one stole anything. It was food.

“Take it and eat.”

The Captain certainly urged him to take it. Any doubts what the man was plotting again against him, he unwrapped it and looked again at the younger officer. A sigh was the answer and taking one of the chocolate bars, Hart himself made the start.
Following his example, the Lieutenant Commander also decided to do so. Still questions troubled his mind. Why this sudden kindness? Why did Captain Hart care?

The chocolate tasted wonderful. Reaburn chewed it slowly with pleasure.

“You could at least have said thank you.” There it was again, the undertone of dislike in Hart's voice.

“I’m sorry, Sir. Thank you very much for this gesture.” No use in being friendly. Not in this situation. Even with the emergency ration, they could last only a few days longer. Nothing more.

“Will, I am very much sorry for what happened between us.”

“You mean that you are sorry for having brought up the entire crew against me even before I arrived from Fort Bush?” Harsh words that had risen in his mind and before even thinking about it, he had spoken them out aloud.

Hart’s reaction was a surprise. On the ship he would have punished him for this and issued a few days of quarter arrest, but now the commanding officer only remained silent for a minute. “You know I did not want this to happen.” he said after that.

“The hell you did!”

“It is probably better if you cool down for a certain time before we continue.”

“Continue what, Sir?” Reaburn did not even make a slight attempt to hide his sarcasm. “Sitting around in a snow storm without contact to anyone while eating the only food we got and waiting for death to come?”

He decided to leave, but Hart’s words made him stop:
“You know very well why we left. That’s what the orders said. There is no reason to attack me like that. It does not help us either, does it? You have been longer on Planet New Berlin than I have, but still I also know about our options. That is why I have come to talk to you. This is not about watches or one of the guys stealing some food, which is in our situation serious enough.”

“About what is it then? You have been wasting almost two weeks at this place, although you knew as well as I do that the radio cannot be repaired!”

“Lower your voice and sit down, Lieutenant!!!” The acid tone was almost as icy as the storm.

“Thank you. I know you were from the start against this, but now nothing can be done about it. Do you hear me?” Sensing the answer and the intention to interrupt him, Hart raised his hand in a sudden gesture. “You either shut up right now or I will regard all this as refusal to obey my orders and I will have you shot for that!”
In the shocked silence after that the Captain continued:
“I would really feel sorry about that. You are the second man in command, Will. If anything happens to me… Well, you certainly know what I mean and what I expect you to do. Meanwhile I want you to do your share just like everyone else. You have done that and it has not been easy for you. Few of the crew have ever been in such a cold environment and it will get even harder for them in the future. They need experienced leaders who work together and not against each other.”

“If they had had experienced officers we would not even be here!”

“I told you to keep your mouth shut, didn’t I?! Anyways… we have to head south. I came to tell you beforehand about it. I wish to know whether you support this decision.”

“You are the senior officer. Who am I to doubt your decisions, Sir?”

“I see. If you do not have nothing else to spare than bitterness and sarcasm, you should think about one thing: If something happens to me, nobody is left to save you. You haven’t made friends on the ship, but maybe you should try to gain some respect right now. It could save your life you know.”

“Thank you for your kind advice, Captain! But please don’t expect me to listen to your threats. If you want to shoot me, do it right now. If you don’t want to do it, fine. Give me one of the guns, which you have given to your men and I will do it myself, so nobody of your crew got to do it. A bullet may be very much faster than slow starvation!” He came upon his feet and got off towards the poor fire that lit the morning sky of the horrible day which had just started.

Suddenly a hand grabbed his shoulder and pulled him backwards, almost making him topple over. Hart’s cheeks were reddened as he fought for control, lost, hit Reaburn once into the face and finally whispered: “Never tell me about starvation again! And never think again that know what it means! You have never hungered! The Liberty Navy fed you well, although you were just a traitor who disobeyed orders and endangered an entire operation! Your friends from Rhineland let dozens of POW’s starve in prison camps at the pole regions of Planet New Berlin. We did not do that! Rhineland did! POWs that have been made after the invasion failed! Maybe it failed because we had a leak… or maybe it did because orders were not followed. I for my part follow my orders.”

The Captain spat out in front of Reaburn, looking angrily at his officer, who lay face down in the snow feeling warm blood trickle down his face.
“Get up, Lieutenant. I hope I did not hurt you too much.” Hart raised his voice, which had been up to now full of irony. “Everyone get up! Ensign Barkley, accompany the Lieutenant to the wreckage. Get the radio and everything else which can be of use. The rest of you spread out and search for more useful items! Let’s get moving!”


Edited by - [WPIcefox on 2/22/2006 2:25:40 PM

OK, got it, will see what I can do and how soon

Thanks again. You have probably seen by now how much work it might become.

That's definitely about all for this week. I will stick to what most of you do and regularly write into the topic headline when the last post was. Unfortunately just noticed that the thread will rise again when an edit is made in one of the former posts. That's definitely no intention of mine. I just sometimes see errors in my older posts and try to correct them. Sorry about it.

This post will probably give you enough to read for a time. More to come in a few days.


Chapter 1


“Wow, I don’t believe it! Is that really you?!”

“You can count on that, Fregattenkapitän a.D.!”

The civilian, who had just stopped short in front of the parked car in front of the passenger terminal of the spaceport on Bretonia’s main world, shrugged. “You should not call me like that, Dale!”

“Ah, Sebastian, you are still as content as you have always been. I am really looking forward to improving my German again. It’s been long since I have practiced it for the last time.”

The Rhinelander forced a smile while he got on the left side into the car. “You are definitely the only one looking forward to it, because your Bretonian accent sounds really awful and makes it after years of learning still impossible for you to speak the language in an acceptable way.”

“Ouch!” The Bretonian on the driver’s seat tried to look really hurt, but he did not manage to do so and broke out into quiet laughter. Before he started the car, he patted his passenger’s shoulder. “It’s good to see you again, Sebastian. Was a very hard piece of work to find you. You simply disappeared.”

“I still wonder how you found me on Gas Miner Naha.”

“It was not that difficult. It’s all about privileges and the right people owing you a favour at the right time.”

“May I guess that Commodore Baxter has his contacts in the secret service as well?”

“No comment. A secret is not a secret anymore if everyone knows about it.”

“Suppose your Bretonian humour will always remain the same mystery to me as my native language will to you.”

“Maybe it will. It is not important either, is it?”

In silence the men steered out of the front window into the rain, which had been dominating New London’s climate for ages.

“Sebastian, are you really happy on the Miner? I have been told you are working for the company which is doing freight runs to Kusari and Rhineland. Flying freighters through pirate dominated space in the borderworlds is probably a thrilling adventure.” It had taken Baxter minutes to formulate the question this accurately and carefully while he moved the large car skilfully through New London’s heavy traffic.

“Did you really invite me here just to ask me that?”

The trace of pain in Bergander’s voice made Baxter look even straighter forward. So he did not notice the Rhinelander’s nervous gesture.
“I did not invite you here with the intention of just posing this question. I wanted to see my old friend again, with whom I have spent four years on Dortmund Station while the Asgard ruled and turned Sirius into a mess. I mean… just look at this!” The gesture towards a large ugly building at the right side of the road included a lot of rage, but it was also aimed at distracting the Rhinelander from this sensitive topic.

“Don’t lie to me, Dale. It has never worked. I am not one of your men from the Cardiff.”

“I wish you would be. They were all great guys and many of them are serving their house again.” Baxter was grateful for the possibility. Bergander himself had mentioned it and that was more than he had dared to hope.

“I would never call you Admiral, Dale.”

“I did not expect anything else from you. If you had become Captain as well it would not be necessary either. You would soon get the bar the same way as I did. But you chose to leave Rhineland’s Navy immediately after the end of the Asgard Regime. And that not even with a full rank, but something between Commander and Captain only the crazy Rhinelanders know about! Afterwards you disappeared and were not to be seen until now! Tell me why, Sebastian! Tell me once in honour’s name why! You traded your own command for the life of a minor pilot risking his life for a few tons of liquid oxygen!”

“I don’t fly cargo runs, Dale. You were misinformed.”

This time the short laughter of the Bretonian included no real humour, but only disagreement. “Did they make you fly cargo trains, Sebastian?”

“Hell, no!”

“Would you swear an oath?”

“I would swear it any time.” Bergander confirmed.

“This time you were the one to lie. I know you did. I do not wish to tell you how to lead your life, but I want at least to know why. Please! You owe it to me after we saved you from the Royal Arch. You owe it Captain Brown. You also owe it each of the men and women who served under your command!”

“There is no command of mine, Dale.”

“Oh sure… guess we all dreamt this little tiny war then, which Rhineland started about seven years ago. Did we dream the Hessen? Did we also dream the Asgard and our imprisonment on Dortmund Station? Did we dream billions of dead people after they launched a bombardment over New Tokyo? Do you really want to deny all that, Sebastian? Do you want to deny what Henning Sorsa and Will Reaburn have done for you?!”

“I don’t deny anything for Christ’s sake! Leave Henning and Will out of that one! Leave me alone!”

“There is no need to shout at me.” Baxter steered the car onto a public parking lot and paid the fees. After he had turned the motor off, he turned towards Bergander. “I thought you were lying to me, but I see that you are actually betraying yourself. The foolish argument between Will and you is not my problem, but did you ever visit the Lieutenant on Hamburg? I have been there. Henning asked me about you and Will. He made an inquiry right after the rebellion. He had a very rough time after they found out he served on your ship Hessen and later on Will’s Rügen. Only the fact that he is an invalid prevented the Asgard from jailing him. So now tell me how you thanked him for saving your life! You haven’t visited him once while he worries and makes inquiries about the place where your remains are buried! Will got an excuse, because he is again in service and hell knows where Liberty has sent him, but he exchanged letters with Henning! You could have flown to Hamburg any time! Your behavior is a shame and definitely not anything the Sebastian Bergander I used know, would do!”

“What do you expect me to do now? Fall down on my knees and beg your forgiveness?”

“Would definitely be a start, although I am not the one you should beg it from. Henning would be a start and maybe you should try to get in touch with Will.”

“Never!”

“Never is a strong word. So you are not going to visit Henning Sorsa either? I would have thought higher of you.”

“I see. You have called me and asked me to come so that you can let lose this morale sermon?”

“I already explained to you why you are here. These things are just something true friends would talk about. Everyone is able to see that you are not happy with yourself and your life. You are a mere shadow of what you have been years ago. I want you to realize that fact if you have not yet done so.”

“Would you please take me back to the spaceport?”

“Of course if you wish, but running away is no solution. It has never been.”

“Do it. I don’t think New London is a fit place for me to stay.”

“If you think so. Robert Hill really looked forward to meeting you again, but I guess that does not matter for you either.” Baxter seemed disappointed, but he immediately followed the request and took the car back into the opposite direction.

After a long silence Bergander replied: “It does matter, Dale. But can’t you understand that I am not ready for it yet?”

This time it was the Bretonian who had to pause a short while after this honest remark, which had been made with a very low voice. “I can, Sebastian. Of course I can, but hiding is not a solution. Please visit at least Henning. It might help you too and it is very important to him. And if I were you I would not mention your job on Gas Miner Naha. He would worry too much about you. Just like I do. I think even Will would not wish your death. Especially he would not. You hurt him very much.”

“You have been talking to him? Did any of you ever think about him hurting me?”

“No! Heck, I don’t want to fall into your back! You and Will are both my friends. We exchanged a few letters months ago and that’s it. Really! I don’t even know on which ship he currently serves and we certainly did not write anything about you!”

The first spaceport terminal came in sight. Bergander was relieved. “Can you drop me here?”

“The departure terminal is at the opposite side of the spaceport. Do you really want to get out here?”

“A little walk in the rain won’t kill me. I am not made of sugar. It’s been months since I have felt rain on my skin for the last time.”

Baxter stopped. “If you mean.”

“Thank you, Dale.” Bergander was really happy to get out of the car.

“For what?”

“I don’t know. For caring maybe.” Before the Bretonian could reply anything, the Rhinelander had closed the door and disappeared in the mass in front of the terminal.




------------------





“Mister Bergander?” The station administrator came towards the place where Sebastian Bergander was working below the belly of a large cargo train, which was just unloaded and prepared for the next flight.

“The ship is going to be ready in about an hour, Mister Hishiro.”

“I suppose it is, but this is not going to be done by you. Graham is going to finish your work. Get out of there and wash your hands. I expect you in my office in about ten minutes.”

As Bergander got out, Hishiro had already left. His colleague John Graham gave him a dirty rag to wipe his hands, which were black from oil. “Much left of it?”

“Nope almost gone. Not so sure about the leak. You got to take care of it.”

“Will do.”

Bergander held the man back as Graham wanted to get down to the opening where the Rhinelander had just gotten out. “Any clue what this is about?”

“You mean whether he is about to fire you?”

“Yes, that’s what I mean. I thought it would be okay for me to take a short holiday.”

“Hey, I don’t think he will fire you. Anyone else, yeah, but not you. You’ve been working like a berserk since you came here. You deserved those days and everybody wondered why you came back after two days. Maybe he wants to give you some kind of award. Or some days off again. You could fly and visit the Luxury Liner Hawaii in Sigma-19. Heard one of the deliveries is for it and it is really worth it. Others pay a ****load of money to see the Hawaii once in their life from inside. You could certainly stay one day and enjoy the time there. Bet the boss would let you go any time. Especially since you returned last week earlier than you should have.” The colleague disappeared below the freighter.

Shaking his head, Bergander made off to the office. Not without stopping at one of the numerous washrooms on the way. Gas Miner Naha had a very filthy hangar deck and its crew might also not consist of the most clean guys, but it was not a bad place after all. The time on Freeport 9 during the great war had been worse.
He knocked on the office door and waited for the call: “Come in!” before he entered the room.

“Ah! There you are. Take a seat.”

The man’s face expressed regret. An expression, he neither liked, nor ever wanted to see. He already knew what to expect.

“Mister Bergander, I regret that I have to tell you that we cannot keep you here. We just received an urgent radio transmission.”

Hishiro handed him a sheet of paper. Even the sender’s identification made everything inside him cry out. Naval Command, Rhineland Military, Oder Shipyard, New Berlin System.
With definite certainty he knew what the letter included. It was the last thing he wanted in his life.

“You should read it.”

“No need.” Bergander tore the sheet into pieces and crumbled them to a ball-shaped object.

“You know that I am not able to further employ you.”

“Why? Sigma-13 belongs to the border worlds. It is illegal to…”

“Mister Bergander, I know the facts. You are citizen of the house Rhineland. You are reserve officer. They have any right in the world to call you back into service. This system belongs to the border worlds, all right, but this station belongs to the Gas Miners Guild, which is registered in Kusari. Consider yourself as being in Kusari space. Kusari got a contract with Rhineland, same as with all the other houses. What matters for me is that Kusari has therefore to do everything to assure that the transfer to the Rhineland authority happens as requested. They send a ship, you are going to board it. If you don’t go voluntarily, we have to use other means, because you would be regarded to be a deserter. I am not sure whether you wish to be treated like a criminal.”

The threat was clear. He had no choice but to give in. “When does the shuttle arrive?”

“In about two or three hours. Please don’t look at me as if I would like to eat you alive. Maybe they just want to see you for the final dismissal. Send a message and come back with the next of our freighters that goes into this system. You are very welcome here. We regularly have incoming freighters from the Rhineland systems.”

“The Rhineland military doesn’t send freighters for delivering dismissal letters. They send freighters for transporting officers.”

Hishiro had apparently enough of the talk arose from his seat. “You will see. Good luck in any case. As far as I know they cannot keep you in forever. Maybe an emergency occurred. They might really need you. At least there is no other war in sight. And it has one advantage. As far as I read in your personal file, your rank was Commander. The payment for a high ranking officer is probably even in Rhineland loads better than the money you earn for flying and repairing our freighters. Try to see it positively. If you ever need a job again, you can come back anytime.”

“Thanks, Mister Hishiro.” Bergander turned around and left the office.
Outside he leaned against the wall and closed his eyes. Why didn’t they understand that he quit the military because he could not carry on just like before the war? He felt burned out. Maybe it was the best thing to tell the officers on the Oder Shipyard exactly about that.




Edited by - [WPIcefox on 2/8/2006 3:55:08 PM

“Fregattenkapitän Bergander?”
Alone the military title made the blood in his veins freeze. How hard had he tried to forget about all this!

The rebuilt station looked the exact way it had looked during the war when he had been here for one mission briefing. And now he was here to receive his new orders. Orders he did not want at all. In his eyes even hell was a better place to be than the Oder Shipyard.

The young Ensign knocked at an office door, which looked exactly the same way like the others. The white sign next to the door had ‘Lieutenant Commander Herfeld’ written on it. Bergander had expected a higher ranking officer, but apparently this officer in his shabby office was the only man he should see. Hopes he had buried on the flight to the New Berlin System came up again. Maybe all this was really just about his final dismissal.

The voice behind the door was young, but filled with authority. The young man’s salute was dynamic as he entered and reported: “Fregattenkapitän Bergander, Sir.”

“Thank you, Ensign.”

Bergander did not feel need to salute the man behind the large desk. A few awards decorated his uniform. Combat awards. Where he had gotten them was obvious for Bergander. The perhaps 27 year-old Lieutenant Commander had served on one of the Asgard ships. Perhaps he had bombed New Tokyo. Bergander could not even feel disgust. Just nothing. The door behind him closed after he had entered the room. The junior officer had left.

Herfeld surprised him, though. He got up and saluted him! A civilian! A man who had been an enemy to the Asgard and had therefore been left on a deserted station with many other high ranking officers and men from the old houses’ military forces. Left behind until eternity. Things had changed. Eternity had lasted merely five years.
He did not want to let him wait standing at attention, so he nodded. It was the better the quicker they got this done.

“Please sit down, Sir. My apologies for the untidy office, but I have not been told about your early arrival. Rear Admiral Mengel told me about one hour ago about your arrival on Planet New Berlin. He wants to welcome you tomorrow morning.” The gesture was helpless. “I know that this is not exactly the best welcome, but after your ordeal on Planet New Berlin four years ago I thought that you would probably like to sleep on the yard.”

“You know my personal file then?” This little hint he could not suppress.

A small bite on the lip and a slight nod. “I do and I am really sorry, Sir. I understand of course that I cannot expect very much sympathy from you, although not all things are always the exact way they appear to be. If you wish anyway that I resign from my duty on your ship, I can completely understand it, Captain.”

Three slaps into the face in just one remark. Bergander sank down on a nearby chair.

“Are you all right, Sir? Shall I get a glass of water or anything else for you?”

Duty on a ship as Captain with a high ranking officer who had served under the Asgard. Not many things Sebastian Bergander could imagine right now, could be worse. Actually… nothing could be worse. The only thing the scared Herfeld could have done was leaving this room and catapulting Sebastian Bergander to the opposite end of Sirius. Since the ex-Asgard was not able to do either of it and could not even guess Bergander’s thoughts, the Commander just shook his head.
Quietly Herfeld sat there and waited, worried about the pale face of the man in front of him. From time to time his view came across Bergander’s, which always made the Lieutenant Commander look away hurriedly.

Finally Bergander had regained control over his thoughts and his body. “How… how did you call me?” His unsteady voice proved the attempt of control false. In fact he was devastated.

“I called you Captain, Sir, because that is what you are going to be up from tomorrow morning. The Admiral will probably punish me for having spoiled the surprise and broken the rules of etiquette. I should not have talked to you this evening. I should not even have given the order to bring you up here if you understand. Rear Admiral Mengel has a suite in the Astoria reserved for you.”

There was nothing, Bergander could care less about. “And the rest?”

The more he knew, the better he could think about a strategy to avoid it. He had the feeling of being stuck in a narrow canal between two rock walls with a large train coming towards him.

“You mean your command, Sir?”

“Anything.”

“Well it is the cruiser Westerland, Sir. The Asgard called it light cruiser or Beta class. I would say it is the best cruiser we have and the best in its class. Not even two years old, very modern and equipped with a good arsenal for defensive and offensive actions if the situations requires it.”

The undertone of pride in Herfeld’s voice made it obvious to Bergander that the ex-Asgard had served on the Westerland before.
“So it is also equipped for planetary bombardments then? How did the Asgard call it? Walhalla? Glorious pride?”

Totally shocked, Herfeld took a deep breath. He looked down at his shoes, avoiding Bergander’s eyes. His hands were slightly trembling. “I did not take part in the bombardment, Sir. The Westerland did not take part in it. I understand that you…”

“You don’t understand **** I fear!”

“Sir?!” A sudden cry of protest.

“What have you done, then? Attack Bretonia and Liberty? Take part in seizing the Rügen? Kill the entire crew? Or did you work on the Royal Arch? Did you kill innocent officers? Break people to make them follow Asgard’s way? Come on, Lieutenant Commander, I am waiting! How many innocent people did you kill in the name of Asgard? Did you believe in their ideology? All this crap about hate, power and subjugation! People like you are a shame for the entire military!”

It did certainly feel good to let all the frustration and anger out at once. He got up and left the room. Only when he was searching his quarter, he realized that he did not have one. It did not matter either. He ignored the few uniformed men and women crossing his way, their puzzled looks when he passed them by in his worn out clothes. It was late. Nine p.m. New Berlin time. There were not many people on station, just the permanent crew. The officers of the high command lived like Mengel on the planet. It had always been that way. The higher the rank, the better the privileges.

He went on, even without looking where he was going. When he reached the civilian part of the station The Ring, he turned around and left again. He did not feel like having company. He rather felt like getting drunk. Alcohol was not sold on the yard though, so that was almost impossible. And despite of all his attempts to forget about his time in military service, he could still not ignore certain rules of etiquette. He knew he had never stuck to rules and ignored quite many of them in his life, but meeting an admiral while reeking from alcohol definitely was not his thing. It was not right.

Herfeld had given the order of taking him here, so the Lieutenant Commander also had a room reserved for him on station. Bergander just needed to find it. He decided to ask. Twenty minutes later he had found it, taken a short shower and went to bed. Tomorrow he would refuse to accept the promotion and the assignment connected to it and fly back to Gas Miner Naha. He had a job waiting for him. An own life without the navy.



---------------------



“…Fregattenkapitän Bergander, in the name of the Rhineland Naval Forces you are now entitled to wear the rank insignia of a full Kapitän with all the privileges and obligations connected to it. Congratulations!”

Sebastian Bergander reluctantly performed the required salute. He was very angry and disappointed. Rear Admiral Mengel, a small man with hair, which was already getting thin, was pointing at one of the seats in his office.

Bergander had not even had the slightest chance to voice his request. Maybe he had one right now. “Sir, may I speak openly?”

“You want to tell me that you don’t want to be here?”

“Yes, Sir. You know about it, then?”

“I can read. I am not willing to accept your request to leave the forces.”
Entirely shocked about this unexpected answer, Bergander stared at him.
“Look, Captain.” Mengel began. “I know we are not at war and probably won’t be any time soon, but we got other problems. The parliament has agreed on a new law, which was brought in by Chancellor Wessels. It allows me to me to call anyone back into service, who can be of use for our military. We need people like you. Especially people like you.”

“Sir, I don’t think that I am of any use for Rhineland’s navy. I haven’t been on any ship larger than a freighter for more than five years. I forgot everything.”

This time he earned laughter. “I won’t buy that! Let me tell you that you did not forget how to command a ship. One can’t forget that. We need you actually even because you are a veteran. We got many ships and also many new officers, but rarely anyone who has a white west and those who have are just cadets. Veterans of the great war are rare. They had to survive the war with all its losses, the time as prisoner of war and afterwards the Asgard regime. They were imprisoned or killed if they did not follow the Asgard’s way. Not everyone was as lucky as you were. Most were not. The Asgard had it their way. We got maybe a hundred officers who survived all this…”

“So you decided to take in some, who were on the Asgard ships?”

The admiral sighed and nodded. “Yes. You already met Lieutenant Commander Herfeld. He shouldn’t have talked to you yesterday. I already told him about it.”

“Are there many like him?”

“Not too many. I mean, you know how the Asgard rule came to an end. They even brought their own crews up against them so that some deserted and decided to fight. A great battle took place here in the New Berlin system, where it had begun five years ago. After that most ships surrendered although there wasn’t anyone who could take care of them. Some disappeared into the border worlds, but most of those were later destroyed. We had to build up an interim administration, just like the other houses. After that we separated the Asgard of course. There was the large group of the officers from the ships, whose crews had not deserted and the minority of those who had done. We have just done the same like Liberty. Execute or imprison those who served the Asgard till the end, give those who deserted a second chance. Bretonia got enough own survivors and the Kusari simply rely upon their cadets for manning their ships. For Liberty it works fine with the deserters, you know. One of those officers commands their largest carrier, the Oregon and he’s fulfilling his duty just like everyone else, you know.”

Bergander’s expressionless face apparently worried Mengel. The man quickly added: “I know it’s not easy for you, Captain. It hasn’t been easy for us either. But we need people like him right now. He faced a court material. He got demoted from Commander to Lieutenant Commander. He lost his command. We could not have done more. At the end of the court material the jury came to the conclusion that he has not taken part in incidents like the Rügen massacre or the bombardment of Planet New Tokyo. If he had done, he would have been executed like the others who were found guilty of that. His former ship’s crew did never break the conventions. Herfeld’s crew even was among the first, who went pirate and began to fight the Asgard. It was even him who made them desert. You owe your freedom to people like him. If he had not started a mutiny, you would still be imprisoned on Dortmund Station.”

“So you mean that the Westerland is the testing ground whether the Liberty model works for Rhineland too? Bergander asked acidly.

“No! Please don’t get me wrong! Let me tell you that the Westerland is the most famous ship in our fleet, if not in entire Sirius. It’s the one, which destroyed the Asgard’s flagship in the New Berlin battle.” Mengel defended himself. “You are just the most qualified candidate for the job and he is the most qualified candidate for being your First Officer! He knows the ship!”

“So you really mean that I am expect me to command an Asgard ship with an Asgard Executive Officer, who even served on the ship before. What is making you think that?”

Surprisingly, Mengel added quietly without anger: “My belief in your sense of duty makes me think that. You have always tried to give people a chance. You have given Will Reaburn a chance long ago, although he was an enemy. Why can’t you do that again? You have been an integrating figure on Dortmund Station. It was surely not easy for you and the others. There is room for many conflicts if you imprison members of all four houses with their families on one small station. Still you have proven to be a good leader.”

“There haven’t been any leaders. And if there has been one, it wasn’t me. Commodore Dale Baxter from Bretonia has taken care of everything.”

“You should maybe know that I have been talking to him.” Mengel gave Bergander a strange look. “And his point of view was entirely different. He said you were second in command.”

Bergander’s face darkened. So it had been Baxter, who had told the Rhinelanders about him being on Gas Miner Naha. ‘You are going to pay for that, Dale!’ Bergander thought grimly.

“So let me tell you about your ship. We are negotiating with the Kusari, who perhaps want to buy it for their new war museum. So far there is no result in sight. But still you should take care that its condition remains as good as it is right now. You also better read the manual very soon, because you won’t have very much time to become familiar with the systems. I don’t know what Herfeld has told you yesterday, but the Westerland is a light cruiser, which has a small hangar deck. It can fit four Valkyries or two Clydesdales. Our Humpback is too large for it, so we bought a few Bretonian freighters for this ship class. It has a very modern bridge, good engines and a lot of space. The storeroom was enlarged and so were the cabins. It is a ship worth to be an Admiral’s ship, Captain.”

Bergander ignored the last remark. It had just revealed the admiralty’s true intention. It was certainly none he was content with.
“What about crew, weapons, shields and armour?” Resistance against this assignment seemed more and more futile.

“39 crewmembers. Two bridge crews, which makes fourteen including you and Lieutenant Commander Herfeld, two engineers and seven technicians, one doctor and two medical assistants, five pilots for two fighters and one Clydesdale, four soldiers and four crewmembers for other duties. The weapons are more than sufficient for a ship of the Beta class.”

“What about armour and the shields?” Bergander repeated his question mercilessly. It was now clear to him that the ship was barely more than an enlarged corvette.

“We have improved the generators and increased the armour.”

“In other words these are the ship’s weaknesses. That is the reason why you want to sell it to a Kusari museum, right?”

The Oder Shipyard’s commandant hesitated for a second. “Let’s say honestly that shields and armour could be better, but they are sufficient. It’s not like we would send you without escort into the border worlds, you know.”

Bergander still read between the lines. Without a cloaking device, the ship was useless. The small hangar deck indicated also indicated that. The ship had been designed to operate with a cloaking device, but those had been forbidden. The according treaty had been signed by all four houses right after the Asgard’s downfall, because the technique had brought war and death over Sirius twice within the past eight years.

Mengel’s voice was full of exaggerated enthusiasm, which could not deceive Bergander. Not noticing that his superior went on: “You leave on Sunday morning, which makes two days. The Bretonians offered the possibility to take part in one of their manoeuvres, which shall take place on Tuesday. It’s a great opportunity for you and your crew to become familiar with the ship’s systems.”

“Tuesday? Isn’t next week… oh no!”

“I understand your feelings, Captain, but you will fly to Bretonia and participate! Let me get this straight: You will do the Bretonians the favour! They asked for the Westerland and they asked for you as soon as they heard that you are commanding the ship! The media will be involved. The chase is the event in the news. Whatever you do will be observed. I expect you to play your assigned role as good as possible.”

“What kind of role is it? The one of the prey?”

“Exactly. We expect you to be a sportsman. Stick to the historical facts. But said among the two of us, we expect you to kill at least one of their capital ships and last as long as possible before they bring you down in Manchester right in front of the New London gate. Don’t forget one single moment that you represent the house Rhineland and that there are a lot of hyperbroadcast cameras directed at your ship, capturing the final moment from the bridges of the Bretonian ships. There is even a large firework planned, which is broadcasted live. Each house deals differently with the past and the Bretonians chose this way. It’s an honour for them that you are commanding the Westerland on the day, which marks the seventh jubilee of the Manchester battle.”

“I am supposed to play along then?”

“Absolutely. On Sunday, there will be a large ceremony on this station. Our media will also be here and broadcast the ceremony, plus how the ship is manned and leaves the yard. Admiral Niethammer, the Commander of Rhineland’s Naval Forces will hold a speech. After you left the yard, you will fly to the Stuttgart system. You will be awaited by four gunboats and two fighter squadrons escorting you through Omega-3 to Omega-7. After the jump the Bretonians will take over and escort you to Cambridge. In New London you will dock at the Southampton Yard, where your ship will be outfitted with the necessary technical equipment. Now tell me why you look so concerned!”

“Sir, I just don’t know. We torpedoed one of their ships in Cambridge seven years ago. They were forced to hide their ships for days while our secret service forced us to seek for the others. I mean we could just have thrown bombs on their homeworld and the Bretonians could not have done anything about it. They haven’t ever forgiven us that. I don’t think that it is a good idea to have me commanding the ship, which shall play the Hessen’s role.”

“Ah, I understand. You are concerned that one of the captains or a few of the fighter pilots could fire real weapons instead of the training ones to take revenge?”

“Yes, Sir.”

Rear Admiral Mengel smiled. “They won’t do that and I can exactly tell you, why. Bretonia will have to pay a high amount of money if anything happens to your ship until the manoeuvre is over and you are safely back in Rhineland. To be exact the amount of insurance is two and half a billion credits. The Bretonians will take a better care of the ship than anyone else. Apart from that they have forgiven and the relationship between Rhineland and Bretonia is better than any time during the last 200 years. Everyone hates the Asgard, but the great war has been almost forgotten. You are one of the heroes and one of the most popular victims of the Asgard Regime, who are alive. They love you!”

“I hope you know what you are talking about, Admiral.”

Mengel looked hurt. “Of course I know what I am talking about. Now you know about everything. I suggest you take a short holiday, of course with the Westerland’s manuals in your pocket. Visit a few friends or do whatever you like. I just want to see you here on the yard again by Saturday evening. What you do with the rest of today, tomorrow and Saturday, is not my business. You are dismissed, Captain.”

Bergander saluted and left the Admiral’s office. He had a very bad feeling about all of this and liked none of it. Neither the ship and his First Officer, nor the orders and the fact that there was a big ceremony taking place on Sunday morning. He cursed and wished to be back on Gas Miner Naha, even disliking the thought to wear a parade uniform. As far as he could remember, it had only happened once in his entire career and that had been at the very beginning when he had graduated from cadet school. It was 13 years ago by now. 13… an unlucky number.



Edited by - [WPIcefox on 2/7/2006 5:08:05 PM

‘Holy crap, what the hell is this?’ Bergander thought as he watched the appearance of a larger group of soldiers with music instruments, who accompanied Rear Admiral Mengel and a few other members of the High Command. They passed the spectators on both sides by. His stomach felt already now like if it had shrunken to less than 1/5 of its normal size.

In his eyes all this was a totally unnecessary procedure he had to endure until he would finally be allowed to assume command of the Westerland, leave the yard and head for Bretonian space. Such theatre scenes were totally alien to him and just the thought of the hyperbroadcast teams scared him to the bone. Still orders were orders. The choice was not his. All he could do was play along or he would make a complete fool of himself.

And as if it would not have been enough of it, the man leading the ceremony was Admiral Joseph Niethammer. The highest ranking fleet officer of the house Rhineland. Superior to everyone on the entire yard including Mengel and the other officers. Niethammer was only the minister of defence’s subordinate.

But there was also light at the end of the tunnel. What he had seen of the crew so far, was really better than he had expected. His officer on the damage control was no one else than Phillip Merx. There had been a lot of joy when they had yesterday met for the first time since years.
The Lieutenant had been as Ensign on the Hessen when it had fled from the battle near the yard more than seven years ago. An unfortunate burning injury had lead to him being transferred to a hospital on Planet New Berlin. Until he had recovered, the war had been over and Merx had made an engineer’s degree at New Berlin’s university. The scars of the severe burns were still visible if one knew about them.

But Merx was not the only veteran: The commanding officer of the five pilots on board was Flight Captain Hansen, whom Bergander had last seen on the hangar deck of Dortmund Station, where the Lieutenant had taken Will Reaburn’s place in an Asgard prison shuttle taking him to an unknown destination. Hansen was the second of the only three survivors of the Rügen massacre.

The other officers and crewmembers Bergander did not know. Most of them were quite young, but at least the bridge crew was experienced apart from two exceptions. The first exception was the 19 year-old communication and flight control officer Felicitas Bremer and the second the 28 year-old computer specialist Thomas Perthes, who had just resumed his university studies half a year ago and had quit two months later again due to being called into military service. That was quite unusual, because even in the months after the great war the recruitment policy had been different. Rhineland had never used force before.

The weapon control was Lieutenant Simon Weber’s responsibility. He had experience. 37 year-old Warrant Lukas Schmitt was their helmsman. He was also one of the veterans. The navigation officer Maria Heine was at least as old as Bergander and had served as well on a gunboat in the great war. She also was the ship’s Second Officer and therefore completed the ship’s small bridge crew of maximum eight people if both commanding officers were on deck. The Rhineland navy had to rely very much upon fresh blood in form of cadets or more or less professional civilian specialists. Those specialists had been recruited the same Bergander had been reactivated: By force.

Cases like Lieutenant Junior Grade Thomas Perthes’ were rather the exception as far as Bergander hoped. He did not really know what he should think about him and Ensign Bremer.
He just assumed that he would probably see very soon whether they were good in their job or not.

He guessed that almost all of his officers and crewman had recently had to read a lot of pages. Just like him. The manuals were confusing. Not all system information had yet been re-written by the Rhineland Navy. Some of those manuals were as old as the ship and therefore of Asgard origin. The only one who probably would fully get along with them was Frederick Herfeld, and he probably knew them anyway.

The members of the orchestra had meanwhile organised themselves. So had the hyperbroadcast teams. Their cameras were directly aimed at Sebastian Bergander. Not that he could see it, but he saw that the Lieutenant next to him had straightened himself at once in preparation of the beginning of the ceremony.

“Achtung!”
It was Frederick Herfeld’s task to give the order to stand at attention and he did it with a loud and clear voice that could not cover all his excitement despite all attempts.

The Captain did not wish to know what thoughts might go through Rear Admiral Mengel’s head while he and his colleagues followed Admiral Niethammer until he stood at the left end of the row right in front of Sebastian Bergander. One of the younger officers of the group with the rank of a Captain just like Bergander was one, opened a small box he had carried and held it for the admiral.

‘Oh no! Not the Honour’s Cross. Please, not a freaking medal! Dale, I am really going to kill you if you knew about this!’

“Captain Bergander, we have thought long about the award, which would suit what you have done. In the name of the Rhineland military forces and our entire people, I am proud to award you the Honour’s Cross medal for your extraordinary dedication with which you fulfilled your duty and for all the sacrifices you have brought during the past seven years. You have never feared the challenges, which life had for you in store. You did not give up when many others would have failed and you always stuck to the principles of honour, justice, sense of duty and mercy. You fought for peace in times of war. People like you for whom the human being comes always first are the guarantee for the return of peace to Sirius. They have been in the past… and they will be in the future. No one of us is free of errors and if someone intends to be he shall be the one to throw the first stone as the bible says. All of us are just humans and therefore doomed to fail at times. Never forget that everything has a purpose. I hope you will continue to serve our house for a very long time to come.”

Bergander’s throat was dry and he did not even dare to swallow when Niethammer fastened the medal to his uniform. His knees felt like being filled with pudding and he feared he would start to faint if this continued any longer. The pain in his stomach increased.

Luckily Niethammer gave the word to Mengel, who was the Commander of the entire Shipyard. Rear Admiral Mengel’s speech was unfortunately longer than Niethammer’s and just when Bergander could not bear it anymore and feared to lose out any second in front of all the cameras, Mengel gave the micro to his superior again.

Admiral Niethammer spoke the final words: “So then, she is your’s, Captain. Good luck out there. Serve your house with pride. Serve Sirius with pride. We all have realized that all houses are connected by ties, which shall never be cut again. Even the worst dictatorship could not cut those ties. May the four houses last forever. May the colonies last forever. For the glory of Rhineland! For the glory of Sirius! For the glory of mankind!”

“For the glory of Rhineland!” the Westerlandl’s crew repeated aloud, the second part was already shouted and into the repetition of the last part even the spectators joined in so that Bergander’s sheer ears rang from it.

“Go out, Captain. Go out and go with God.”

The orchestra started to play while the crew saluted the High Command and went under the given orders of Lieutenant Commander Herfeld in military formation abroad the ship.

On the Westerland’s hangardeck Bergander received all the congratulations, shook 38 hands and gave his first own order. “Lieutenant Commander, let’s get ready to leave the yard!”

Herfeld immediately replied: “Aye, Captain! All man on station!”

Bergander was really glad to see everyone leave. To be alone for just a moment. He closed his eyes and tried to understand what had just happened.

They had awarded him the Honour’s Cross, which was one of the highest medals members of the Rhineland forces could get awarded with. Still… no one had told him about it. No one had asked him. No one had been interested to know whether it was right. They just had decided to do it. They had given him no opportunity to decline. Decline, because it just didn’t feel right.

He had visited Henning Sorsa on Planet Hamburg yesterday. A Humpback had taken him there. He had come to the conclusion that he had to close at least this chapter of his life. The Bretonian had known about it and foreseen it. Running away was indeed no solution. At least in this case it had been wrong.

Sorsa had been glad to see him. They had been crying. Sorsa, because of happiness, Bergander because it had hurt him badly to see the young man sitting in a wheelchair. The feeling of guilt had been immense. He felt responsible for it, although the ex-pilot would hear none of it. Sorsa had married a Red Hessian, who had left the criminal organisation. They had one 2-year old daughter and were expecting their second child.

The young man considered himself as being lucky, but Bergander knew how much the pilot missed flying. He would never get into a Valkyrie’s cockpit again, because he had paid such a high price to save Bergander’s life. Still… no medal and nothing else had been awarded to him. Only a small invalid’s pension and a letter from the Rhineland military. People like Sorsa should get the Honour’s Cross in his opinion. Definitely not him. He had done nothing.

Again Bergander had been lost in thoughts like so often recently. A short look at his watch told him about the advancing time. The reporters were waiting to get their tapes of the leaving ship. It was time to carry on. His own personal feelings could wait and were irrelevant right now. He forced himself to focus on the future. At least four hours on the bridge lay ahead of him until they were on the way to Omega-3. Herfeld had asked whether they could have lunch together to talk about a few things. Bergander had agreed. But now he better made quick or they would call him via Intercom to the bridge. That was something he certainly wanted to avoid and so he started to run.



--------------------------




Someone patting his shoulder and a voice coming through the darkness around him woke Bergander up. Vaguely he remembered what had happened.

He had come to the small bridge and given the necessary orders to leave the yard. After that he had received and answered all the congratulations, which the Oder shipyard’s traffic controllers and other ships in the sector submitted. He had been on the bridge until they had jumped to Stuttgart. There he had handed over command to Maria Heine, the Second Officer and gone to have lunch with his First Officer.

The food had been good, but a while after the lunch with his First Officer, when he had returned to the bridge, he had started to feel really sick. His stomach did not like the stress and reacted accordingly. Apart from that Bergander had also eaten way too much. Herfeld had accompanied him to his cabin and called for Lieutenant Tilmann, the ship’s doctor. After an injection things had improved and he had rested a bit. His XO had been commanding the ship that since. Until now.

“Sir, it’s Lieutenant Weber. The weapon control officer. Lieutenant Commander Herfeld sent me. You wanted to be on the bridge when we reach the Omega-7 gate and we are almost there.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant.” Bergander sat up and reached for the glass on the little table next to his bed. He actually saw two glasses, but when he tried to focus his view, one of them disappeared and he managed to grab the other. After taking a sip he felt a little better.

“Sir, are you sure that I shall not call the doctor?”

“No need for that. Thanks for the offer.” Bergander got up. “See? I am fine. You can go back to the bridge. I will follow you in a minute.”

“Sir, the Executive Officer gave the order that I wait for you and come with you to the bridge.”

“I believe you are forgetting that Lieutenant Commander Herfeld also receives his orders from me. Tell him that I am old enough to find the way alone. Off you go, Lieutenant and don’t forget to close the door!”

“Aye, Sir.” Weber saluted him and left the cabin.

Bergander made a quick wash and redressed. He avoided the look into the mirror as long as possible, but at the end he had to look into it and was shocked himself.
“All right. Just a little stomach problem, old boy. It will go by again. Just the short way and you can sit down again. Remember how much you swore about how small the ship is? It also has its good sides.”

Encouraging himself this way he left for the bridge and sat down. Only Lieutenant Merx’ seat was empty. The damage control officer was currently in the machine room, assisting the engineers. The relief in his other officer’s faces was clearly to be seen. Unmistakeable it could be read especially in Herfeld’s face. Bergander glanced out of the window and recognized the jumpgate ahead. Close to them were at least ten Valkyries and four gunboats. The escort Mengel had promised.

“I got the bridge, Lieutenant Commander.”

“Aye, Captain. It’s good to see you are better.”

“Thank you, Exec and also thanks to the rest. It was just the surprise and the shock about the honoration, which caught me that bad. My stomach is not used to so many surprises at one day. At least it didn’t cause any new problems after the last jump. My compliments to the crew.”

The men and women grinned happily.

Communication officer Felicitas Bremer spoke: “Thank you, Sir.I think I express the other’s thoughts if I say that we are proud to belong to your crew.”

“Thank you. I really feel honoured about that and let me assure you that I feel very much better right now. Let’s just carry on with our plan, all right? That might just be the best. What shall the Bretonians think about us otherwise?”

“Probably just the usual, Sir: Crazy Rhinelanders!” The navigation officer joked.
“You might be right about that, Lieutenant Heine. What’s our distance to the gate?”

“Less than 7k, Sir. The angle is so far correct.”

“It will be if you add 2 degrees to the right.” Herfeld, who stood next to her, corrected.

“I would have done so in a minute, Sir.”

“I am sure you would have.” Bergander intervened. Maria Heine had more experience than Herfeld so he definitely did not see a problem in it. The captain was certain that she would have noticed it on her own and wanted to let his First Officer know that he did not like such behavior.

“Of course you would have.” Herfeld confirmed. He had understood the hint.

“Did we make any hostile contact?”

“One of the gunboat crews reported one hour ago that they had two unidentified contacts on radar. After two seconds they were gone.”

“Nothing else?”

“Nothing else, Sir.”

Bergander decided after Herfeld’s report that it was time to get rid of the ridiculous escort. It was bad enough that an even larger amount of Bretonian ships waited on the other side of the gate. “Communication, please send our compliments to our escort. I don’t think that anyone will attack us on the last metres.”

Satisfied he listened to Ensign Bremer’s radio transmission.

She reported afterwards: “The best compliments to you, Sir. They are proud that they were… of any help.” She chuckled. “I hope I got that pause in the middle right.”

That answer almost made Bergander laugh with the others. Whoever had sent that transmission surely had the same sense of humour and the same understanding of the situation’s comical aspects. The gunboats and Valkyries pulled away and left them alone. Already the large jumpgate began to fill the bridge’s front window almost entirely.

After the usual checks Bremer made her intercom announcement and counted down. When she reached “Zero”, the ship entered the jump tunnel and Bergander felt a familiar force pull on him. His stomach lowered. Seconds became eternities until a second bump followed and they were on the other side.

“Good jump.” Bergander forced himself to say. After a few seconds of acute pain in his stomach he recognized two Bretonian ships. It was not only the announced destroyer Luton, but also another capital ship, which looked entirely different. Larger.

Before Lieutenant Heine was even able to say a word, Herfeld asked: “What is Bretonia’s carrier Scotland doing here, Sir?”

“You better don’t ask me. Ask the Bretonians.”

“Sir, a Clydesdale requests landing clearance. It apparently just launched from the Carrier. The Scotland’s bridge just confirmed it. One of their officers is on board of that shuttle. Shall I grant the landing clearance?”

“I guess all of us would soon be very sorry if you don’t. Just tell the pilot about our small hangar deck.”

“The Bretonians know about that, Sir. They got two of these ships in their fleet as well.” Herfeld explained.

“Good. You can leave that part away then, Ensign. XO, I will go and welcome them. You got the bridge.”

“I can do that for you, Sir. You just stay here. I will take him here.” The First Officer had already gotten up and made for the bulkhead.

Bergander shook his head, but there was nothing to be done about it. Not right now. He got the definite feeling that he really needed to talk again to Herfeld as soon as the possibility offered. He had actually gotten quite a positive impression of him, if he tried to forget about the man’s past, which was all but easy.

The landing worked apparently without a problem and the Bretonians did not request him to start moving, so Bergander simply waited. He did not have to wait for long though and for what would come he was not at all prepared either. The officer was no one else than Commodore Dale Baxter who stormed alone on the ship’s bridge. Herfeld was not to be seen anywhere.

“Sebastian! What the heck happened on…” Taking at once notice of the other Rhinelanders on the bridge, the Bretonian stopped in the middle of the sentence. Bergander had never seen him somewhat angry. Apart from that it was the strongest emotion he had ever seen.

“Welcome on board of the Westerland, Commodore.” Bergander said in a futile attempt to rescue of the protocol what was to be rescued. That was not very much.

“Thank you, Captain. Mind about joining me on the Scotland?”

“Pardon?”

Baxter made two steps towards him and whispered: “I want you on board of the carrier, Sebastian. And that fast. Yesterday if possible. My shuttle is waiting on the hangardeck.”

“I can’t leave the Westerland. Let’s talk in my cabin.”

Understanding that his friend was not willing to come, the Commodore relented. “Agreed.”

While Bergander was getting up to show the way, the world started to turn in front of his eyes and he fell into a large back hole. He uttered a scream and after that he remembered nothing.




Edited by - [WPIcefox on 2/7/2006 5:13:55 PM

(Editorial remark) Posted a bit earlier and more this time, because my computer will be in for a repair from Wednesday on. Might probably might take at least two weeks, more likely three. I have to apologize for the interruption, but I cannot help it. I am thinking about posting at least the rest of chapter 1 to close it before I have to take this forced break. It will probably be three posts or so because of the length, but you might have the time to read it until I am back.
Again my apologies. Due to an overheating problem of my computer I will have to postpone most of the spell check of these posts as well. Will do so when I get back I promise.




“Good morning, Captain Bergander.” The English speaking voice was somewhat enthusiastic and demanding that he opened his eyes at once. Somehow the male voice sounded familiar.

To his surprise he could not remember how he had gotten into this room or into this bed. Or to the planetside, because the large windows showed a wonderful scenery. Green fields and a somewhat blue sky. A soft warm wind was blowing into the room through the open door. He could hardly remember anything, but hadn’t he been on some kind of ship? Right, he had been on the light cruiser Westerland. At least until…

He noticed that an infusion needle went right into his left arm. “How did I come into this hospital?”

“Dale had you transferred here, Sebastian. You broke down on the bridge of your ship.” Commander Robert Hill followed Bergander’s view. “Planet Cambridge. This is the Admiral Nelson Army hospital.”

“I had a breakdown on the ship?” Bergander was confused.

“You did. Somehow we always meet under the same circumstances. Whenever you come on board of the ship I serve upon, you are seriously ill and need medical attention. Not that I would have anything against it, but it gets annoying. I was looking forward to meeting you again, not to treating you again. I am fed up with having to spend nights worrying about your health.”

The Rhinelander disagreed. “This time it was different, Robert! I just had a little breakdown.”

“Very funny, Sebastian. A little breakdown. Just like last time, right? The only difference was that they brought you to the Scotland instead of the good old Cardiff and that it was Dale sitting next to your bed this time and not Captain Brown.” The doctor made a sound that was almost some kind of laughter. “I know it was not funny, but everything has almost been the same as six years ago.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“I am talking about the fact that your ship’s doctor almost killed you with his diagnose of a normal breakdown caused by stress. Dale had his ass for that. I think he said a few very unpleasant things. I have never seen him in such a rage. Of course one got to consider that a wrong diagnosis of such a kind had severe consequences for you. The dose was almost lethal. It probably would have been if you had come on the Scotland about three hours later. In any case you were the reason for me getting this little holiday on Cambridge because I know you personally and because I knew best how to treat you.”

“Hang of for a second, what do you mean by ‘dose’? And why are you talking about holiday? I have just fainted on the bridge yesterday, didn’t I?” The Bretonian’s facial expression scared Bergander. “No? Maybe it was two days ago? It’s Tuesday morning, right?“

“Wrong. It’s Thursday. You have been four days in coma.”

“God! The manoeuvre!”

“Postponed until you are able to return to your ship. We are patient. The Bretonian Navy will have your *** in a few days. To be honest our admirality has been glad about the delay, because our foreign minister and our minister of defence were recently very busy. They had other things to take care of. Dale has been very drastic and almost caused a full diplomatical crisis between our houses.”

“Oh holy ****. What the hell did he do?”

“Only the right thing. At first he insisted on transferring you to the Scotland right after the emergency measures had been taken. We directly jumped to the Cambridge system and brought you down to the planet as soon as possible. Currently, your ship is docked at the Southampton Yard in New London as it has been planned. Your officers and men are guests of the British admirality. They have been asking for you every day, but we had to deny them to visit you here. You needed as much rest as possible and there were… other reasons for it. Dale had your First Officer arrested. For a short time also your ship’s doctor Lieutenant Tilmann, but he was released again.”

“What? Why were they taken into custody?”

“Don’t you know that Herfeld belonged to the Asgard and is a criminal? A bounty has been placed on his head by the Bretonian Democratic Society Association.”
“I knew that he has belonged to the Asgard, but that doesn’t make him guilty, does it? Apart from that he is an official member of my crew so Bretonia certainly has no right to arrest him.”

“Who else should have done it? It was Selicin, just like last time. May I remind you that you were brought on the Cardiff in similar condition?”

“Yes, someone on that damn asteroid miner gave me a Selicin injection. But this time no one gave me any injection apart from Lieutenant Tilmann. You don’t really want to accuse a colleague of having the intention to murder his superior officer, do you?”

“He may be a university graduate who still got to learn his lesson, but certainly not. He gave me an exact account of what he has done on the Westerland. The substance we found in your blood was identical with the injection. The only possibility would have been that the Selicin has been in the ampoule. But the shock Tilmann got after hearing the definite reason for your illness was real. He almost got a breakdown himself and that indicated that he is not the one responsible. He was also not alone with you when he gave you the injection. He could not have created any cocktail for you. I rather suppose the poison has been mixed into your food.”

“My food?” Bergander echoed.

“It suits the symptoms. I think I don’t have to stress the fact that Selicin is a chemical tasteless poison, which has been mainly used by the Asgard. You probably know that better than me. They tried to kill you with it before. You are a somewhat lucky bastard.”

Although he was deeply shocked and did not want to believe it, Bergander still felt the strong need to defend Herfeld. Apparently the Bretonians believed that the Lieutenant Commander was guilty of trying to kill him. But he himself just couldn’t believe it. He had talked to Herfeld during the lunch they had taken and it had proven his first impression false. “Are there any indices for him being guilty of mixing the Selicin into my food when we had lunch on the ship? Did he admit it?”

“No. Of course not. He denies everything.”

“So he is innocent until he is proven guilty!”

Hill raised one of hands expressing his doubts while he was carefully avoiding to look into Bergander’s eyes. “It’s not just that, Sebastian. We all know why the government decided to execute all surviving Asgard. They can hardly be trusted. Of course Herfeld is no Bretonian and an official member of your crew. But there is one reason, why we almost definitely know that he has done it. He got a motive for the attempted murder.”

The Rhinelander was somewhat shocked that he just listened while the Bretonian went on: “You don’t know about a few things. Dale wanted to tell you about them. He could not await your arrival, so he decided to ask for permission to join the escort with his own assignment. That is why our ship, the Scotland, was in Omega-7, which is probably the best order he has ever given. He wanted to come over and see you. So did I, after you left New London so quickly two weeks ago. The circumstances on board of your ship made him ask you to come to the Scotland immediately. You have to know he ordered to have Herfeld arrested and brought on the Clydesdale directly after his arrival. This action was the main reason for the diplomatic crisis.”

“He set foot upon my ship and immediately arrested my Executive Officer who had come to welcome him? And that even without knowing about the diagnosis? Is he crazy or something? Does he see ghosts?” asked Bergander in fury. “Hell, it is not even sure that Herfeld did it! I could have eaten this everywhere. On the Oder Shipyard, on Planet Hamburg, who could know where it happened?”

“No. You definitely ate it on Sunday, Sebastian. Dale is definitely not crazy and he does not see ghosts either. He just recognized Herfeld.”

Bergander’s rage faded as quickly as it had come. Baxter never did anything without a reason. “They have met before?”

“I think so. Dale is one hundred percent sure about it. Even I think that he is right.”

“How could you be?”

“Because he saw Herfeld on the Rügen’s hangardeck, Sebastian.” Hill’s voice was barely recognizable.

“No!” Bergander shouted in extraordinary pain. “That’s impossible! The court material came to the conclusion that he was on board of one of those ships attacking the Rügen, but certainly not on it! I read the account on it! They would have executed him if there had been any proof of him being there!”

“How much do you really know him, Sebastian? You know what great actors they were. Traitors were in the military, in the governments and nobody ever realized anything is wrong until it was too late and Rhineland’s chancellor was murdered. It would not have been the littlest problem for Herfeld to deceive you. Dale got the shock of his life when he got out of that Clydesdale. Believe me, Herfeld has been there when we were brought on the Rügen as prisoners after a fleet of Asgard ships had forced us to surrender and give up the Cardiff in Hamburg.”

Hill had become constantly louder, just to fall back into whisper again:
“Your First Officer has been on the ship which still showed all signs of the fight and the following massacre that had just taken place when we arrived. You have not seen these things, but we have. All of us have been forced to clean the deck from all the blood and debris. You were not, because you have been mostly unconscious at that time, but Dale and me were not and he saw Herfeld. It is possible that this guy had to kill you because you could have identified him? If this had been proven at the time of the court material, he would have been sentenced to death. He does not know what you have seen. Fact is only that Dale knows what he has seen and that I believe him… There has not been much time between the seizure of the Rügen and our arrival in Hamburg including the loss of our ship. The bridge crew has not seen any shuttles in space. You know what that means. He has been there in their uniform. He has been one of them.” The Bretonian was visibly shaken.

‘He has been there. He has been one of them.’ Hill’s words were like a hammer coming down on Bergander.
Herfeld had been there. On the Rügen, whose entire crew had been murdered because the Asgard had needed the ship for building in their cloaking device to rule Sirius. Three men had survived. Many others had died. Maximilian Timms, Joachim Mies, Henry Potthoff, Will Reaburn’s great love Bettina Richter. Men he had known for ages had died. Men who had survived the great war on the Hessen just to get murdered a few months after it. Men who had saved his life and who had been friends. It was more than he could bear. “Would you please leave me alone for a while, Robert?”

A nod was the only answer. The Commander touched his hand for a short moment before he left the room, giving Bergander the possibility to relief himself by crying.



------------------------------




At some point he had fallen into the merciful sleep of exhaustion again, but he awoke with the feeling that something was different. It had become dark again on Bretonia’s main agrarian planet. The door at the window side was still open and the cool air from outside calmed him. It had been a relatively hot day and probably it was late evening if not already midnight. In the complete darkness of the room he was unfamiliar with he was barely able to recognize the shapes of the furniture and the window curtains which were moving in the slight breeze.

Bergander had the feeling that someone was in the room with him and asked with a weak voice: “Robert?”

“No. It’s me, Sebastian.” According to the sound of his calm voice, Commodore Dale Baxter had altered years. Almost the complete energy, which had been characteristical for him, seemed to be gone.

Neither man spoke. Both did not feel like it. Bergander listened to the sound of the Bretonian’s breath. Something troubled Baxter deeply and that made Bergander quickly forget about the reasons why he had been angry. They could talk another time about it. Right now, Dale Baxter needed him.

“Why Sebastian, just for Christ’s sake, why did they have to die?” The Bretonian finally began.

“I don’t know. No one does.”

“Name me one reason to carry on. I convinced you to rejoin Rhineland’s navy, but of what use has it been? Why are we all trying so hard to build everything up again just to let them destroy it again?”

“What else should we do? Go back to Dortmund Station? Try to turn back time? Remember how much we wished that the Asgard’s rule would come to an end?” Bergander asked quietly.

“They are doing it again! They are just doing it again! We killed thousands of them and jailed even more, but they don’t give up. They are killing again. What’s the meaning behind it?”

“What are you talking about, Dale?”

“I am deeply frightened, Sebastian. I am sure that I recognized Herfeld. I know it! When I saw him I knew why you were ill. I was certain that it was him who tried to murder you and when they found the Selicin in your blood I just did not know what I should do. We had him arrested, but Herfeld denies everything. I know what I have seen! I asked Flight Captain Hansen and others who have been there. Hansen does not recognize him, but he thinks that it is possible. He would not trust his memories enough to be witness in a prosecution. Same goes for most people from the Cardiff. Commander Shelby even stated that Herfeld was definitely not on the Rügen and it is just a trick of mine to get the bounty. Tell me, am I getting insane?”

“Commander Hill says that he believes you. Commander Shelby is simply an *******. He never liked you, so did you really expect he would change himself?”

“But even Robert would not swear an oath in front of any court! I just came from New London. I just had a meeting with Fleet Admiral Winston and our minister of defence! They told me that I shall fly to the Scotland tomorrow morning to pack my things and hand over the ship to a relief Captain and take some holiday. It was a half dismissal and I was told that my behaviour would even have further consequences. Probably there will be a court material. They might even demote me again. In hell’s name I know what I have seen! By the way, Herfeld is back on your ship, although Rhineland’s High Command will get an own investigation going. After your return. The indices for his guilt have not been accepted by your own house’s military command. It means whenever you return to the Westerland, you will be in danger again. Currently he is even commanding your ship! And do you know what is the worst thing that happened today?”

“You will probably tell me.”

“Liberty announced that they lost one of their carriers yesterday. The Oregon. They definitely spoke of an accident. There has not been any distress call. The ship apparently just perished. They just found the wreckage in Bering and closed the system for the investigation after the Kusari agreed upon it. After all the traffic between Kusari and Liberty has to cross either Kepler or Galileo. They could not have closed it without the Kusari’s permission. Currently only Kepler is open, the traffic is being redirected. More they didn’t have to say yet. You know how spare the given information is in such cases.”

Baxter swallowed and continued: “There have not been any survivors. May they rest in peace. 600 crewmembers... I know of course that I shouldn’t mention Will Reaburn, because you two… but I got immediately in touch with some of our friends in the Liberty Navy. The crew list has not been released yet, but I made them check for his name. He was not among them, Sebastian. He is safe on one of the other ships, but that does not change things. They have done it again. I know it! It must have been one of those missing ships, which hid in the borderworlds half a year ago! It just decloaked in front of the Oregon and torpedoed it. Heck, perhaps they did not even decloak! They just launched their torpedoes and blew the Oregon up! Just like you did it with the Norfolk!”

For a moment Bergander remained silent. He had been alarmed for a moment until he tried hard to suppress the fear, because it did not belong into his life anymore. Will Reaburn was not a part of his life anymore. These times were over. A few months ago he would even have wished that his former friend would die. For a second he had thought that it had become real. And to his own surprise it had still touched him more than he would even admit himself.

“So you see, it’s just another reason to quit the navy. Too dangerous business for a very small wage.” More Baxter did not say about it. Ship losses were usually not a topic navy members liked to talk about.

Bergander felt the same way. It was one of the risks in their job to get killed. No matter how. There were many reasons why a ship could simply disappear or be destroyed. Perhaps the air supply systems had failed or not worked properly. Or it had really been the Asgard. Just two of many possible reasons.
Without knowing details it was hard to say and the information policy of the four houses was not the best one. Every house just told what it considered as necessary. It had a reason. In this case, everyone would probably think first about an attack. The people in Sirius were deeply afraid of the Asgard. Liberty needed to avoid a mass panic. That was one major reason for an immediate denial of an Asgard attack as possible cause and the definite statement that it had been an accident.

Bergander was certain that Baxter had the same thoughts. He tried to reassure the Bretonian again:
“Please calm down, Dale. Nothing is proven. Perhaps it really was an accident. There are not that many Asgard ships left that they could just have killed a large carrier. There would have been at least a distress call. I am sure that Liberty will release a more detailed accident report within the next two weeks. We will get to know more details and therefore manage to improve the safety on our own ships if necessary. And your problems with the Bretonian admiralty will work out. They won’t demote you. Whatever happens, I am very grateful for what you have done. If your ship had not been in Omega-7, I would probably have died. I will stand to you whatever the result of the court material will be. Remember what we have said on Dortmund Station. Without each other, we would not have been able to carry on. We will never forget that.” That was not entirely true, although he had said it to comfort Baxter. The friendships had not lasted in all cases. Bergander and Reaburn were the best example for that.

“I will quit the navy!”

The Rhinelander shook his head, although Baxter could not see that in the darkness. The Rhinelander knew how much his friend loved his job. “Give it a few days, Dale. Use the unexpected holiday to relax. You really seem to need it. I know what I am talking about. Maybe ask your superiors if they let you take part in the manoeuvre.”

“Forget about it. I am not assigned to any ship! I am grounded!”

“You could perhaps come as observer on the Westerland. That would be great. Of course only if you want. We even got a cabin to spare if the chase takes any longer.”

Slowly a thin smile reappeared on Baxter’s grim face. “Yes that would be great. And you can be certain of one thing: If that Asgard even dares to get closer to you than a few yards, I will kill him! Just one little remark: I don’t think that I will need an own cabin although I feel honoured by your kindness. The Bretonian Navy will get you in less than half a day!”

“We will see about that. I got order to kill at least one of your ships.”

“Hah! I bet you won’t even get into firing range!”

“Fine. What do I win if I do and get a kill?”

“I will prepare a typical Bretonian meal for you, which does not consist of food pills or similar crap and serve it in your cabin.”

“I never had an admiral cooking for me and that thought is definitely tempting me.”

“Good. But be aware of one thing: You certainly never will have me cooking for you because Bretonia will win! So let me guess what you could do for me. How about calling me seriously ‘Sir’ and ‘Commodore’ for a day after you lost? You swore on Planet New London that you would never do that. I demand that you do it if you don’t manage to get one golden shot on any Bretonian ship which is larger than a corvette!”

“Aww, I would rather cook for you as well!”

“I know, but I am not really keen on Sauerkraut. We got a deal?”

“We got a deal!” Bergander confirmed and they shook hands. He was happy about anything that distracted both of them and made Baxter feel better.

‘The evening after the manoeuvre could become really funny.’ he thought.




--------------------------------------



“Does our agreement also include Luxury Liners?” Bergander asked his guest Baxter on the second day of the manoeuvre, which had started four days later.

“You are kidding! Attacking civilian targets is against the convention! Stick to your primary and secondary targets!”

Bergander laughed. It was a relaxed atmosphere on the bridge. The Bretonian took his job very seriously. So did Bergander and his crew. He had promised them a few days of holiday when they arrived back in Rhineland space.

That this holiday would be taken at the expense of Herfeld, who would have to answer many questions of the investigation commission, did not matter too much to Bergander. The Lieutenant Commander had only reluctantly followed his orders when the Bretonian Commodore was on the bridge and the Executive Officer had avoided any company during the past days. He had not wanted to talk to Bergander and only given short answers on the questions.

Herfeld isolated himself from the crew and spent his entire freetime in his cabin. The other crewmembers behaved like professionals would do, but they were apparently all sure of Herfeld’s guilt and made him feel that.

Despite this little problem which spoiled their fun a bit, the manoeuvre had turned out to be better than expected by Bergander. It had nothing in common with the chase and the battle which had taken place seven years ago. The Westerland had been equipped with the same technique the Bretonians had mounted.

Even Herfeld obviously wanted to survive as long as possible and had actively participated in working out their strategy. It was something that made Bergander wonder. When they had talked about it, Baxter assumed that the ex-Asgard officer’s pride did not allow him to sabotage the mission. Asgard or not, Herfeld was Rhinelander.

“Let’s take the jumpgate to Leeds. Half power, I want to see who might be near the gate.” Bergander ordered. “Lieutenant Heine, please watch out for fighters!”

“Half ahead, Captain!” confirmed helmsman Schmitt.

“So far no fighters in sight, Sir.” Heine reported.

His guest’s face darkened and he mumbled something like: “Bastard!”

“Hey, you are not supposed to take sides, Dale!” Bergander joked.

“You are not supposed to take sides, Dale.” Baxter echoed annoyed. “I am Bretonian, Sebastian! You have been fooling our entire navy since yesterday!”

“Probably it wasn’t such a good idea to give us a start of four hours before beginning the chase. Consider it next time.”

“No one of us assumed that you would avoid jumping to New London and attack your primary target! Instead you jumped to Leeds and from there to Dublin!”

“That way I got the ship dummy which was one of the secondary targets, didn’t I?”

“Attacking the secondary targets before the primary is unfair!” The Bretonian protested. “You should have gone for the yard first!”

“Changing the target order is legitimated if you operate with a single ship against an entire fleet. My primary order is to survive as long as possible. Apart from that the rules do not include any kind of target order. I even asked that during the briefing.”

“All right, all right! Take the freaking jumpgate to Leeds and do it fast! I want to get home this evening!”

Bergander chuckled again. Secretly he even laughed harder about the Bretonian, who had definitely not expected the evasive strategy the Rhinelanders used. The Captain had developed it together with Herfeld and Heine on the day before the manoeuvre. The two days, which he had to spend in hospital before also counted of course. The Rhinelander had thought about all possible ways to avoid getting caught. It had kept him busy, because it was way better than thinking about the Oregon disaster and his own feelings towards his former friend, who had not been affected by it. Still his feelings troubled Sebastian Bergander.

The manoeuvre was a good distraction as well. Yesterday evening at 2000 when Baxter had told him about calling it a night, Bergander was surprised, but he stopped the ship as requested in the middle of Cambridge’s deep space until 0800 in the morning.

The Bretonians had definitely not expected that the Rhinelanders would survive such a long time. As it looked right now, they would even survive the second night too if they wanted. They had destroyed the second ship dummy in Cambridge and jumped to Dublin again. Again they had jumped to Leeds and to Edinburgh to eliminate the dummy stationed there. Their only remaining targets were the Sheffield Station in Manchester and the Southampton Yard in New London.

The Westerland’s captain intended to try to destroy the station in Manchester and after that he wanted to give the Bretonians the chance to get their kill. He just Intended to get his dinner served by Commodore Baxter. It looked good so far.

“The jumpgate is clear. Probably they got a few ships near the jumphole hidden in the nebula.” the navigation officer Heine reported. She was smiling.

“It figures. Keep that heading. Increase speed to three quarters.”

“Three quarters, Sir.”

“10k to the gate. One Crusader on radar.”

“Leave him. I know what you think, but we won’t launch our Valkyries. There will be more of them on the other side. Full speed ahead!”

“Full speed.” Schmitt confirmed.

“You intend to go through that gate anyway? Shouldn’t we retreat again? He didn’t see us yet.” Second Officer Maria Heine dared to ask. She was the second in command right now, because Herfeld who had been on the bridge during the past six hours, was probably asleep in his cabin. He had taken care of the ship during the night’s watch, which had been necessary because of their stay in deepspace.

Taking notice of Baxter’s pleading eyes Bergander shook his head. “We will try to destroy Sheffield Station in Manchester.”

The Bretonian was relieved. He finally guessed Bergander’s intention.

“He spotted us and jumped back to Leeds. They will gather close to the gate if you ask me!” The Second Officer tried again to convince her superior that it would be better to retreat.

“If they wish to do so. We are going through! They won’t be at the gate. Or if they are, probably only a few of them. Maybe they will have one capital ship there. The others might have jumped to Leeds by now, but they will need some time until they arrive at the gate. They got a long way from the jumphole. We will make it. Ensign Bremer, have our fighters launched right after the jump. They shall cover us a good as possible.” Bergander was almost certain that they would make it. He knew it. Baxter knew it too.

The Bretonian Navy would get the kill in Manchester. Not in Leeds. Just like in the battle seven years ago. Bergander intended to fight at the gate again. The hyperbroadcast teams should get a few nice tapes for the evening news. At least one thing should be like last time. He really did not intend to rewrite history by defeating and embarrassing the entire Bretonian navy.

“5k.”

“Decrease speed. Jump preparation!”

After the confirmation of the responsible officers, the communication officer started the countdown.

Immidiately after the jump, Bergander quickly orientated.

“I got three Crusaders and one cruiser on radar. The Nottingham.” announced the navigation officer.

“You got five torpedoes launched by the Nottingham. Current distance between 1 and 2k. Their maximum range.” Baxter reported. He seemed confused.

Bergander was also stunned for a moment, but then his instinct awakened. Real or not, this was a battle. If those torpedoes hit, they would be dead. Literally out of the game. “Full power ahead. Advice Hansen that they shall get those torpedoes!”

The engines made the ship vibrate as they came back to life.

“Torpedo one – hit! Torpedo two – hit! Shields are down! Hull down to 89 percent! You lost the bridge!” Baxter said aloud. He shook his head. “What the hell is he doing there?” Bergander had gotten up and come to Baxter, who had a small portable computer on his knees. It was his connection to the battle net. The Westerland’s radar only showed the ships, but not the imaginary torpedoes. The Bretonian’s computer both showed the real and the imaginary things. It was hard to imagine that they had just died without even noticing it.

“What about the other torpedoes?”

“Still locked and coming in.” Baxter reported. His confusion seemed to turn into anger.

One smaller red dot appeared on Baxter’s screen, right next to the large red one, which represented the Rhineland ship. The new dot was followed by a second one.
“Fighters launched, Sir.” Ensign Bremer, who had radio contact with Hansen and his wingman, reported.

“0.5k. Better brace for impact.” Bergander said in a helpless attempt of irony.
One torpedo suddenly disappeared, followed by a second one.

“Did they hit?” Bergander knew, the torpedoes would make the battle net computer declare the Rhinelanders as being dead if they hit.

“No, but you got additional damage. Your fighters got them within the minimum distance. Your shields are still down and your hull is down to 48 per cent. You are leaking atmosphere, but you are out of the maximum range of his weapons.” Baxter announced.

“Somehow I imagined being dead would feel differently.” Maria Heine remarked dryly.

The three small green signs had started to move slowly towards the Valkyries. Those were the Bretonian Crusaders.

One of them suddenly disappeared from Baxter’s screen, although it was still out there in reality. They could see the fighter through the windows. Baxter’s computer system had apparently registered a kill.

Baxter stared onto his screen, waiting for a radio message from battle net to come. When it did not, he suddenly took his own communication unit and stated: “Observer fourteen says Mike-Eleven, out!” Shortly after that: “Beta-2, out!”

“Tell Lieutenant Werner that he is dead and shall therefore land immediately!” It was somewhat funny for Bergander to give such an order, but the situation did not really invite to laugh. Something was going really wrong.

The Bretonian next to him had started to curse and only stopped for a second to say: “Mike-Four – out, Beta-1 – out!” Towards Bergander he explained: “Hansen got the Crusader, but missiles fired by the remaining one got him.”

This time Felicitas Bremer was quicker and needed no further explanation. She advised Hansen to land as well. The Bretonians had lost two fighters, the Rhinelanders as well. But their enemies had more of them, the Westerland did not.

“Do we turn around and die, Dale?” Bergander requested further instructions.

“No!!! Don’t do that! If this was real you would not do that either! The Nottingham got a hyperbroadcast team on the bridge! The manoeuvre is screwed entirely if you die like that! Head for Magellan. Give order to have your fighters prepared with real weapons in case you need them against pirates!”

“I don’t think that we are allowed to jump without a larger escort to Magellan. Apart from that the rules do not include permission to leave Bretonian space.”

“I know that the Bretonian admiralty will pay any expenses! And in this case even the rules can be broken. The reporters don’t even know them! This is an absolute emergency! Hell, please don’t make us look like complete fools in front of millions in entire Sirius! Do not let this guy kill you! You are supposed to get nailed by an entire fleet, not by a single cruiser commanded by a fool!”

“I don’t like that, Dale. I don’t even know the system. Rear Admiral Mengel will kill me for that! For real.”

“No! He won’t kill you if he hears about how grateful the Bretonian Navy is about your actions! Please, Sebastian! Just the short distance from the jumphole back to the Manchester gate! I will tell guide you! I have been there before! Every Bretonian ship has been there! I know Magellan really well! Please! You have never been a coward! Don’t start being one right now!”

The Rhinelanders on the bridge did not trust their ears. They did not know about the agreement and the Bretonian pride. Only Baxter’s relative outburst told the tale of the trouble the crew had not known about before. And now Dale Baxter even dared to call their captain a coward. Expecting a suiting answer, they focused their eyes on their commandant.

After a last doubtful look on the nettle screen, Bergander sighed. “All right. You will have to rescue me if the Rear Admiral intends to have my **** for that.”

“I will, but for Christ’s sake don’t die! Don’t get killed by a single cruiser!”

“I will try to avoid it. Ensign Bremer, please call the pilots back to their fighters and instruct the technicians to mount real missiles for the case that we encounter pirates. Lieutenant Merx, please go and take care of our ship’s defence. We are jumping into the Magellan system.”

“Aye, Captain!”

“Sebastian, can I use your radio for a second? I want to tell High Command on a secure channel about our intensions. Probably they are already going crazy. I can’t talk on the battle net channel because the reporters are on the bridges of our ships. I guess the Nottingham’s Captain will be sent to hell in the debriefing.”
“I almost feel sorry for him.”

“I don’t. Hell is too good for him. He knew about the plan and what my dear arbitrator colleague on his bridge has done during that time I really would like to know. Looks like he has been absent, which is absolutely not permitted apart from short breaks for the fulfilment of human needs.”

Baxter got on the radio. Bergander joined Maria Heine at her console. Both of them had never really been to Magellan. Especially not with a large battleship.
“What does the map tell about the way?”

“We will get close to Mactan Base. It belongs to the Lane Hackers. I don’t think that it is a good idea to take the shortest way.”

“What would you suggest instead?” Bergander wanted to know from her.

“Take the longer way through the nebula and reach the jumpgate from the other side after passing it. Better than getting too close to a pirate base.”

“Good suggestion. I was thinking about the same.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

The bulkhead opened. Lieutenant Commander Herfeld came to the bridge and joined Bergander and the navigation officer. Bremer’s last intercom announcement had caught his attention. He took one look out of the window, focused on the screen and then asked: “Magellan?”

“Yes.” Bergander answered short.

“May I remind you that the ship is supposed to stay in range of the Bretonian ships, Captain?” The way he used Bergander’s rank was not very friendly.

“If the Lieutenant Commander is worrying about this ship, there is nothing to be worried about. The Bretonian Navy takes full responsibility and is content with Captain Bergander’s decision. So if you would please leave the bridge now and stay in your cabin for the case anything happens and your service is needed on the emergency bridge…” Baxter said quietly, but no matter with a voice that did not permit any refusal.

“If you wish it this way, Captain.”

It was hard for Bergander to meet Herfeld’s eyes, which were accusing him of everything that had happened since his breakdown nine days ago. “That’s what the regulations say. I haven’t made them. Please stay in your cabin. We will keep you informed.”

Without further comment, Herfeld left again. Someone applauded, but Bergander quickly forbade it and asked: “So, the admiralty is content?”

“They had to ask the Prime Minister, but we got green light to carry on.”

“Right. It’s just about time. We got 8k to the gate.” Bergander went back to his own seat and looked at Felicitas Bremer. “Ensign, what do the technicians say about our fighters?”

“They will need about 20 minutes until they are refuelled, equipped and ready to launch.”

“Tell them to hurry up! We don’t have twenty minutes!”

“Aye, Sir.”

Again, Bergander stated to feel a slight ache in his stomach. It was rather an uneasiness. He asked himself, whether this was really the excitement or rather fear. Perhaps even a relapse of his illness. A late consequence of the almost lethal poisoning. It was definitely better not to tell Baxter about it. The Bretonian might insist upon their return to New London, which would mean the end of the manoeuvre and some very bad headlines for the Rhineland navy and the Bretonians. He had to avoid that at any cost.


Edited by - [WPIcefox on 2/7/2006 5:22:32 PM

“3…2…1… initiation!” Felicitas Bremer’s timing definitely improved.

They entered the blue jump tunnel exactly at the end of the countdown. Bergander tried to relax, but he always held his breath when he went through a jumpgate or jumphole. It was a bad habit as he knew from experience. The exit always drew the last rest of air out of his lungs making him feel for a short second like if he was suffocating.
A female computer voice stated: “Warning! Sensor efficiency reduced.” It broke the silence on the bridge.

Air… grateful he took a deep breath and opened his eyes. Maria Heine was already staring at her map, plotting the new course, which would take them to the jumpgate. Dale Baxter was just turning his computer off. They were in borderworld space. Battle net did not exist here. They were out of range. And alone. Alone in the middle of the blue nebula, which covered probably more than one third of the entire system. Flashes of light when the nebula faded for a second made the human eye see things which were not real. Illusions. Ships, which had never existed. Strange shaped objects no one could describe. Bergander remembered an old saga he had been told by his father when he had been young. It was about ghosts living in the nebula. The people who had died in it. They came to take the souls of those who dared to disturb their peace.
No good things to think about, Bergander decided. He was too old for believing in ghosts.

Perhaps expecting the Nottingham to follow, Bergander thought about the things ahead of them and he ordered: “Clear the hole! Engines one third ahead!”

“One third ahead, Sir!”

“He won’t come after us, Sebastian. He will be ordered, not to do so. His kill won’t be registered here anyway. I also heard from the admiralty that he will be ordered to return to the Southampton Shipyard as soon as possible. Some officers want to talk to him.”

With a nod, Bergander acknowledged the news. At least the ship’s systems worked properly. Soon they would be out of here.
“What about our fighters?”

“They are just about ready to launch, Captain.”

“All right. Tell them to do so. Lieutenant Heine, you got the course?”

“Yes I do.”

“Transfer it to the helmsman please.” Looking at Schmitt, Bergander added: “When you get the coordinates, set half speed ahead.”

Without being in need of any request to do so, Baxter got up and joined Heine. The Bretonian requested: “You can order full speed, Sebastian. I know the way. It is free of any obstacles. I will guide the Lieutenant.”

“Still half speed will do. Hopefully the pirates won’t spot us.”

“And if they do, I will be ready for them.” Simon Weber at the weapon control made the gesture of pushing a few buttons.

Bergander did not comment on that and went to Bremer’s console. He the intercom micro, while the Ensign still talked to the fighter pilots, giving them an update on the decisions regarding Bergander’s intentions.

“Crew, this is Captain Bergander speaking. We just jumped into the Magellan System. Everything just looks fine right now, but I still want everyone to be either on station or in his cabin. We will soon be back in Bretonian space.”
He put the intercom away again and took another look outside.

Just at this moment, Heine reported: “I got a contact on radar!”

“What is it?” Bergander became nervous. Pirates were the last people he wanted to see right now. Whenever you hunted them, you found none, but when you crossed their territory just once without a major force behind, they found you very quickly.

“The computer can’t identify it. We better check it vis… it’s gone again.”

“Was it Asgard?” Felicitas Bremer asked quietly. She was shuddering.

Baxter, who stood next to Heine, explained calmly: “It was probably a ghost.”

“What?!” Bergander’s heart made a jump. He did not know what was wrong. He had been flying through other nebula systems before, even crossed more dangerous systems than this one, but this time was different, although he could not say why.

“I said that it probably was a ghost. The sensors picked up something that isn’t real. It constantly happens in nebula systems.” Baxter’s voice was totally steady. He seemed to know that Bergander was feeling uneasy.

“No! It wasn’t! There are more of them! They are coming straight towards us! Got an identification!” Heine’s voice was excited. “Lane Hackers! Two… three… four… six… eight of them in Bloodhounds and Wolfhounds!”

A flash made the people on the bridge appear like frozen for a second. Then Bergander managed to shout: “Give our fighters the order to stay close to the ship! Otherwise they will be torn into pieces! Bremer, make an intercom announcement that everyone shall prepare for a fight! Dale, I fear that we got to turn around and jump back!”

“No! They might follow us! At the jumphole in Leeds we won’t get help! The admiralty is ordering the ships to get to Manchester! How much to the gate?”

“11k.”

“Dale, eight pirates with missiles or perhaps even torpedoes can destroy our ship easily! We don’t have enough fighters to give us cover!”

“Order full speed ahead, Sebastian. We will make it! Warrant Schmitt and your pilots will make it.”

Uncertain for about one second, Bergander did not know what to do. Then the real torpedo warning disturbed the silence on the bridge. This was not a game… it was reality! Quickly he got back to his seat and fastened the belt. The others had already done so.
“Full speed ahead! Let the fighters take care those torpedos! They shall keep the pirates away from us! Warrant, open fire!”
He had known that something was wrong! Why hadn’t he listened to his own stomach? Every captain knew that he should better listen to his inner voice. To refuse could have severe consequences. Just like now.
The warning sound became louder. The frequency increased, until it was a permanent tone.

“Prepare for…”

A loud bang made everyone shiver. The first torpedo had hit.

“Shields down to 69 percent! It must have been a Starkiller!”

‘Crap! This ship really can’t take very much!’ Bergander realized without saying so. Numbers in manuals were one thing, the admiralty’s promise another. A real battle was certainly always the most reliable measurement for a ship’s construction. And also for testing out the weaknesses of its systems. If one lived afterwards to tell the tale about it.

A nearby flash enlightened the bridge. It was a different kind of light. For a second it was bright orange.

“Hansen got one!”

“That was me!” Weber protested without looking up from his weapon systems.
Another flash followed.

“Well this one goes to Hansen then!” Bremer insisted. “I hear him cheer.”

Again torpedoes were fired. The sound made everyone on the bridge stop breathing.

“He got the torpedo! Lieutenant Werner got the torpedo!”

Having stopped for a second, the alert started again.
Another explosion enlighted the bridge. Almost at the same time the torpedo hit.
The bump was even harder, the bang louder than last time. Or perhaps it only appeared this way.

“Shields at 36!”

“Where the hell are our fighters?”

Heine answered calmly: “I got Captain Hansen’s Valkyrie on radar. He is currently fighting about three pirates at the same time.”

“What about Werner?”

“I don’t see him.”

“God! No!” Thomas Perthes, the computer specialist, cried out. “Is he… I mean is he dead or something?”

Bergander felt an immense sadness wash over him. But there would be time for grief. Later. Not right now, or others would have to grief about the loss of 39 other lives as well.

The torpedo warning did not become quiet.

Bergander saw the sweat on Weber’s forehead as he tried to aim the ship’s guns at the incoming torpedoes.

“There are four of them!”

“Advice Hansen!” Baxter called over to Ensign Bremer, but she only pressed one hand on her headset and listened to the radio. The Bretonian jumped forward, reached out and pulled it off her head, almost shouting into the microphone: “Get the torpedoes!”

“I got one!” Weber announced.

“Sir, Captain Hansen just told me that he got Werner’s capsule!” Felicitas Bremer announced, but no one listened to her. All eyes were directed on Weber, who gave his best to hit the torpedoes.

“Two left. Come on!” Heine encouraged him.

A yellow flash close to the ship made Baxter call out: “Nice one, Hansen!”

Together with these words, there was another bump. If the ones before had been hard, no one had prepared them for this one. Baxter, who had been standing next to Bremer’s communication console, got thrown against the wall. Bergander felt how the ship was thrown sidewards at once as if a large hammer had hit its side. ‘It must have been more than a torpedo.’ he thought.

“Shield failed!” An emotionless computer voice reported.

He waited for the end. How much hull was left? 60 percent? 50? 40? It did not matter. The pirates would soon finish them off. The thought of Rear Admiral Mengel made him laugh. It served him right. Bergander had warned him. And now he would lose Rhineland’s flagship even on the first mission. A simple training mission! Probably Mengel would get his 2,5 billion credits. And a few families would get an empty coffin home. They would share the Oregon’s fate.
He heard a female voice talk. Slowly he began to listen to her words. It was Felicitas Bremer. She was calling Flight Captain Hansen. Again and again.
Deciding that he had to do something, Bergander unfastened his seat belt and got up.
He saw Baxter on the floor, apparently unconscious.

“They are gone.” Maria Heine’s voice was absolutely steady and only included a slight note of surprise.

“The pirates?”

“Yes, Captain. There must have been four or five of them left.”

“Sir, I can’t get in touch with Captain Hansen. His ship is there right in front of the bridge, but apparently we lost our communication.”

The bulkhead opened and Herfeld stormed on the bridge. “Captain! You got to look at the hull on the quarter deck!” The Lieutenant Commander had apparently completely forgotten about all differences between him and the rest of the crew. “Holy ****! What happened here?”

Seeing him kneeling down touched Bergander for a second, but then he turned towards the communication officer: “Give light signals that he shall land. Also call the sick bay. Tilmann shall send one of the assistants down to the hangardeck to see what’s wrong with Werner. The doc and his other assistant shall come here! Schmitt?”

“Yes, Captain?”

“What’s our current speed?”

“Ah, it’s zero, Sir. I must have instinctively stopped the ship when the last torpedo hit.”

“I certainly believe that it was not a torpedo.”

“What do you mean by that, Lieutenant Commander?”

“What I have just said. The hull on the quarter deck has been… deformed. I can’t say it otherwise. I was on my bed with the belt fastened like the regulations say when I heard a loud noise and the hull started to come towards me. It must have come about thirty centimetres inwards, if not more. And that on half the size of my cabin wall!”

“We will have a look at that later. What’s wrong with Dale?”

“He just bumped his head as it seems.” Herfeld got up again.

“Sir, what shall we do now?” Maria Heine sounded almost like normal.

“Mark the exact position on the map. What’s our shield status and armour by the way?”

“Twenty percent shields. They are regenerating. Our… armour is down to 49 percent on the right side of the ship, Sir.” Phillip Merx shook his head. “Shall I go down and have a look at the hull?”

“Yes. Do so, please.”

“You have called for the meds, Sir?” Tilmann and his assistant had arrived on the bridge. They assessed the situation and hurried towards Baxter. “What happened?”

“Something has just hit the ship.”

“So much I already figured.” The doctor’s irony reminded Bergander for a second of the Hessen’s doctor Vogt. He had always been full of irony too.

“My dear swan. That was close.” Herfeld whispered.

“Too close.” Bergander agreed.

“May I make one suggestion, Captain?”

“Of course.”

“Let us fly towards the Manchester jumpgate as soon as possible. I don’t want the pirates to come back.”

“Hey, Lieutenant Merx!” Tilmann shouted as the damage control officer hurried past him. “Can you give us a hand on your way down?”

“Sure can.” Merx pointed with the head on Baxter. “To the med?”

“Exactly.”

Everyone looked at them as they carried the Bretonian with three men from the bridge. Passing by, Tilmann just told Bergander: “I think that he may have a concussion. I will keep you informed, Captain.”

“I don’t think that the pirates will come back so soon, Sir.” Heine raised her voice as soon as the men were gone.

“What do you mean by that?” Herfeld, who was now standing next to Bergander, demanded to know.

“She means that they might know what is waiting out there.” Perthes continued.

“What should be waiting out there?” Bergander asked loudly. He tried to keep his voice as calm as possible and was relieved that he sounded convincing.

“I don’t know, Sir, but he is right. All of them made a one hundred and eighty degree turn when they almost had us.”

“So what? We were lucky. That’s all.”

“No, Sir. If you allow me to disagree, I think they were running away from something. They went on cruise speed and were just gone.” Now even Maria Heine’s voice was not as steady anymore.

“You have heard yourself that this system has been crossed regularly by the Bretonian Navy. Dale knows about the way.”

“And do you think it is chance that just he alone got injured.”

Herfeld broke out into silent laughter.

“What is so funny, Lieutenant Commander?”

“Nothing, Lieutenant Heine, nothing. I just can’t believe that you believe in ghosts.”

“I don’t believe in ghosts, but I… really think that we should not take the direct way back to the jumphole. We left our original course during the fight. Just a slight difference, but it took us 5k away from the original way we planned.”

“There are no ghosts! Whether we are 5k away or 30k away doesn’t matter at all!” The Lieutenant Commander shook his head. “Captain Bergander, you won’t believe that, right? You are a man of reason. The shortest way back to Bretonian space is the Manchester jumpgate. Any additional time in this godforsaken nebula won’t do the ship any good and it certainly won’t do some members of the crew any good.”

“Don’t bring the dead up against you, Herfeld!” Felicitas Bremer whispered.

The First Officer turned his eyes upwards. “Ghosts, the dead, what else? Do you also believe me if I state that I just saw my mother out there? Or perhaps a monster with five heads and wings, which is going to eat me? Or maybe the devil in person? What’s going to come next?”

“Enough of that, Lieutenant Commander!” Bergander ordered. Although he would never have admitted it, the easiness, with which Herfeld made jokes about it, reassured him. He had not recognized it until today, but his First Officer thought throughout rational and straight. And it definitely helped him too. “We will correct the course and fly back to the original heading. You marked the position, Lieutenant?”

“So I did.” Heine answered. She looked uncomfortable.

“Well, let’s get started then. Lieutenant Commander, could you please go down and report later, what damage has been done to ship? You probably know her best.”

“You will have your report in half an hour, Captain!” Despite all their differences, Bergander nodded. In this second, he would never have believed that this man had tried to kill him. He started to become less certain about it. Maybe it was the best thing to confront Herfeld with the accusation and talk openly about it. Definitely better than all the hidden accusations. As it looked right now, they would have to spend a few weeks in Bretonia. Their ship needed to be repaired and Bretonia was not Rhineland space. If a ship was repaired in foreign space, the crew needed to stay on it. But first of all they had to get back.

“Three quarters ahead, Warrant. Set Lieutenant Heine’s new course!”

“Aye, Captain!”

“If I were you I would not fly with three quarters.” It was Flight Captain Hansen, who had just arrived on the bridge and was standing quietly next to the bulkhead.

“Why shouldn’t we?”

“Because there is apparently a lot of debris around there.”

“Debris? What kind of debris? There are no wreckages in this part of the nebula!” Navigation officer Heine pointed at her console.

“I know what I have seen. Pieces of ships. Or maybe one ship. They were clearly visible in the nebula flashes.”

“Are you sure about that?” The captain wanted to know doubtfully.

“Definitely. You should better be as well. One of those pieces missed the bridge by maybe ten metres if at all.

“Did you retrieve any of it?”

“Nope. Sorry. I was busy with Werner’s capsule and three pirates.”

“Ghosts. I said it!” Perthes spoke first.

“Ghosts?” Hansen looked at the computer specialist, raising one eyebrow. “If the ship was hit a ghost causing all this damage to its hull, I shall be Saint Hansen up from today, because then I am holy!”

“It wasn’t the fourth torpedo then?” Bergander looked at him.

The pilot shook the head. “I got two of them. Lieutenant Weber here got the other two I think. There was none left.”

“Why did the torpedo warning continue then?” Bremer asked.

“I don’t know. I can only tell you about what I have seen and about what I have done. By the way, one of the junior docs said to me that Lieutenant Werner will be fine. He got a shock, but that’s all. There were just too many of them for the two of us. If you ask me, Sir, this ship really *****! I almost thought that I may fly home in my Valkyrie and report that the Westerland got destroyed. I know the days are long over, in which the messenger who was bringing bad news was killed, but in case of Rear Admiral Mengel I would certainly not be sure, whether he wouldn’t have killed me for it.”

Thinking about their own experiences, Bergander only had to agree. Just that the only one who was about to get killed was him. The Westerland was an entire failure without cloaking device. The only bad thing was that many people would see that too in a few hours when they met almost the entire Bretonian fleet in Manchester. Of course including all the reporter teams on the bridges of most Bretonian ships, broadcasting live how the pride of the Rhineland navy arrived as half a wreckage. But first they had to make it to Manchester.

Somehow, the more he thought about it, the better Sebastian Bergander now understood the Kusari tradition that some warriors committed Hara-kiri, some kind of ritual self-killing in certain situations to beware their honour. Hara-kiri might be very much better than Rear Admiral Mengel’s welcome in Rhineland.





Edited by - [WPIcefox on 2/7/2006 4:55:39 PM

“The tradelane from Freeport 4 to the gate is there.” Heine announced after a long while.

Bergander had to avoid carefully uttering a sigh of a relief. Not in front of the crew.

“The jumpgate won’t be too far away.” Baxter had come to the bridge.

“Shouldn’t you be on the med, Dale?”

The Bretonian mumbled something no one really understood. Apart from Bergander. The Commodore’s words had included something about 2,5 billion credits.
The Bretonians also would not be too happy either, Bergander guessed. The ship’s return would be embarrassing for both houses and very expensive for the Bretonians.

“What the hell happened out there, Sebastian?”

“We collided with something. As it looks the hull has been damaged near the quarter deck. We are down to 49 percent armour there.”

“You collided with one of the pirates?”

“No. Hansen did not mention anything about that. He only talked about debris flying around there.”

“Debris?!” Baxter repeated surprised. “There is no debris in Magellan! Only one of wreckage, which should be exactly…” While trying to make it to the navigation console, Baxter had to support himself leaning against the wall.

Bergander quickly made three steps forward, grabbed Bretonian’s arm and made a gesture in the direction of Perthes. “Would you please be so friendly to take the Commodore back to the med bay?” Looking at Baxter, Bergander added: “Where he will stay as long as Lieutenant Tilmann considers it necessary.”

“Of course, Captain.” Perthes immediately arose from his seat.

“Sebastian, you don’t have any right to do that!”

“I have any right in the world, Dale. I am the Captain of this vessel and your friend. It doesn’t matter to me whether you are Admiral or not. I care about your health and I think getting up is definitely not a good thing to do right now. Please accompany Lieutenant Perthes. I will come and see you right after the jump to Manchester.”

This time, the Bretonian relented. The bulkhead had not yet entirely closed behind him and the computer specialist, when it opened again. Herfeld came back to report about the ship’s damage.
“Captain, it is less bad than we expected.”

“Any leaks?”

“No, Sir. We are not losing atmosphere, so there can’t be any.” With hidden pride the man stated: “She is a good ship. She will make the jump back to Bretonia and even those back to Rhineland if you wish to return.”

“We will have a word about that later. Thank you, Lieutenant Commander!”

“You are welcome, Sir. Do I have permission to stay on the bridge until we jump again?”

After what Herfeld had done, Bergander did not want to deny his request and nodded. It was a rule breach, but who cared? If there was a battle, Herfeld could still leave any moment.

“Jumpgate at 3k. Alter new course.” Heine suggested.

A new flash of light within the nebula illuminated the jumpgate straight ahead of them. The ship slowed down while the Manchester jumpgate came closer and closer.
Finally the ship came to a halt while the gate was activated.
And there it stayed. One after the other, every man and woman on the bridge directed his eyes towards Felicitas Bremer. It was the communication officer, who was responsible for the activation of the gate.

“Anything wrong?”

The young Ensign shook his head and changed a few settings at her console. “Sir, the antenna must have been damaged in the battle. I can’t transmit the radio signal to the gate. I also don’t get any identification of the gate via code. Just static. The internal communication system works just fine in contrast to that.”

“You mean that we cannot use the jumpgate?” Perthes had returned and caught up the last fragments of the sentence.

“There must be an explanation for all this. I cannot imagine that our communication system is damaged. At least not the antenna. In case of the system itself, it could be that it overloaded. But the antenna should work! It should at least make it possible to activate the gate!” Herfeld came close to the communication console and took a look on it.

“What do we do, Sir, if we don’t get the jumpgate reactivated? We won’t fly back through the nebula, right?” The computer specialist asked loudly.

“Sir, I already tried that!” Felicitas Bremer protested against Herfeld’s actions. The First Officer tried to activate the gate himself.

“Don’t complain but take the manual! Look up the reset procedure.” The Lieutenant Commander calmly replied.

“We could always try it in California, Sir.” Bremer suggested in Bergander’s direction while she bent down and reached out for the system manual.

“Oh sure. If we don’t get the Manchester gate activated, we just cross the entire sector and try whether the California jumpgate works. Any more of those good ideas, Ensign?” Herfeld demanded.

“I honestly think that we are almost out of options. The only way avoiding this would be to fly back through the nebula on our original course. Just right into the opposite direction. Of course without the deviation.”

“Give me a few seconds, Sir. I am resetting the communication system.”

“Go ahead, Exec. And the rest of you don’t look somewhat scared please. We made it here and got attacked by a few pirates. There were no ghosts or something. Our only sorrow should be whether the pirates return or not.”

“Sir, what about the Asgard? Without a working communication system we are not even able to surrender.”

For a second, no one said a thing. Then Lieutenant Commander Herfeld broke out into quiet laughter and shook his head. “The Asgard… even encountering a ghost is more probable than getting attacked by an Asgard ship in Magellan!”

“How can you be so sure about that? Do you know something we don’t know about?” Maria Heine’s voice was openly hostile. “Some insider information perhaps?”

“No.” Herfeld’s effort to remain calm was visible. “But I can think logically. I know how many ships the Asgard had and how many surrendered to the interim governments of the four houses. There were perhaps seven of them left, whose crews refused to surrender. Some of these ships got destroyed in the past months or their crews had to surrender after their supplies came to an end. One thing I can definitely tell you though: If I were the commandant of one of those ships, I would certainly not hide in a border world system, which only has jumpgates and jumpholes leading to Bretonian and Liberty space. That would be entirely stupid.”

“But what if they had to flee from Bretonia? Most surviving Asgard ships came from Bretonian and Kusari space, because these two houses executed every former Asgard they caught! It would be likely for them to hide in Magellan!”

“No. They would have jumped into Leeds at all costs and disappeared in Tau-31. From there a flight to any system of the border worlds would have been possible. No one would have hidden in Magellan. Flying into a system without exit when being haunted is the worst thing a commandant can do!” Even Herfeld was getting agitated now. “Apart from that what makes you think that they could be here anyway?!”

“Something got killed in the nebula. Perhaps something big. So who could be responsible for it?” Schmitt, the helmsman, dared to interfere for the first time.

“Yes! The killing specialists in Sirius certainly were the Asgard!” Heine agreed.

“I suggest that we fly back and take a look at the imaginary wreckage then? There are not wreckages between the jumphole and the jumpgate!”

“You didn’t even take a look at the map, Lieutenant Commander. You know Magellan then?”

“I have been here for two or three times before.” Herfeld admitted.

Bergander decided to interfere: “Enough of it! It doesn’t help us right now to think about all possible ‘What ifs’. It will just make us remain here until the pirates come back and give us the rest. Lieutenant Commander, what about the reset?”

“Finished right now. Ensign, give it a try!”

Felicitas Bremer tried it indeed, but hope quickly got replaced by disappointment. “Nothing. Static.”

“The gate doesn’t activate either.”

“Let’s fly back to the jumphole then. Those don’t need to be activated.” Bergander decided.

“Sir, may I make one suggestion?”

“Go ahead, Lieutenant.”

Heine took a deep breath and stated: “As Second Officer of this ship I wish that my protest is written down in the ship’s logbook.”

“You intend to initiate a mutiny?” Herfeld asked in a mocking way although he was definitely not joking.

The captain just thought how wrong all this was. If he had expected anyone to start a so called mutiny consisting of refusal to obey his orders and protesting against them, he would have thought Frederick Herfeld would do it. Totally in contrast to that his First Officer was the one sticking to his orders.

“No, Sir.” The navigation officer looked at the others on the bridge. Perthes nodded openly and Weber carefully spoke: “No one is going to start a mutiny, Captain. In contrast to what your Executive Officer thinks, she just wanted to have a record of her protest to be kept this way.”

“But… protest against what? Flying back to Leeds?” It had never happened once in Bergander’s entire career that any member of his bridge crew was not content with his decisions. Or if it had occurred, this crewmember had kept his or her mouth shut.

“No. I don’t want to protest against that decision, but I am against taking the same way back, Sir. If anything happens to the ship, perhaps another pirate attack and if we get deviated again, no one apart from a few pirates will know where the Westerland will be found. I demand that we fly to Freeport 4 and leave a message behind, which shall be transmitted, if we don’t arrive. It should include the ship’s damage, which way we took and why.”

“That’s ridiculous! Certain members of this crew are definitely not behaving like members of the Rhineland navy!”

“I guess you know then what you are talking about, Lieutenant Commander?! I mean an Asgard like you certainly knows what a Rhineland Navy soldier should behave like!”

“All right! The next one who voices any insult will immediately be replaced by the relief crew member!”

The captain’s harsh words did not fail their purpose while Bergander made up his mind. “Lieutenant Heine, your protest will be written down in the ship’s logbook as you wished. Lieutenant Commander Herfeld will immediately take care of that while you plot the course to Freeport 4. Close to the station we can perhaps figure out what’s wrong with our communication system and we will indeed leave a message behind, although I honestly don’t think that it will be necessary. It apparently represents the wishes of the majority here.”

Almost everyone on the bridge nodded. Reluctantly, Bergander gave the necessary orders. He could have enforced the flight back to the Leeds jumphole, but it seemed not wise to him, to do so. It would have brought many members of the bridge crew up against him. He might be in need of them soon when a possible court material would deal with the reason, why the ship had flown to Magellan and why it had been damaged there. Probably all of the decisions he had made during the past hours would be analysed and questioned. If the crew was against him, Mengel would almost certainly have Bergander’s *** for it. Meanwhile, the Bretonians would probably have Dale Baxter’s. The captain hoped that his friend had been given a sleep medicament. Otherwise, Baxter would probably think about the same consequences, which could become severe for both of them. With a beginning headache, Bergander thought of their arrival on Freeport 4.



“Sir, you don’t really intend to land on station, do you?” Herfeld asked after Bergander had given order to have the ship’s Clydesdale ready on the ship’s hangardeck. “It’s dangerous!”

“Do you know that there exists a wise saying, which states that no commandant shall ever give a subordinate an order, which he would not carry out himself?”

“I know about it. But that doesn’t mean that the commandant has to get murdered if a subordinate volunteers.”

“I take it that you are volunteering?”

“Exactly, Sir.”

“Probably you should have read my personal file better, Lieutenant Commander. I have spent months on Freeport 9. A Zoner base is probably a worse place than an IMG station. Negotiations of this kind are the captain’s job. ”

“Well, Sir, that may be the case, but if you had spent more time reading my file, you would know that I am better prepared for encounters with pirates.”

“Everyone here is trained in the use of guns, Sir!” Heine almost spat the last word out while she was addressing Herfeld.

“I suggest that we once meet on the hangar deck when we are back in Bretonian space. I will show you my weapons then, which…”
Whispers and certain loud remarks on the bridge interrupted Herfeld for a moment, but the First Officer simply ignored them: “… include kick boxing and two black courts in Kusari material arts. If you can meet that in an appropriate way, I definitely look forward to the meeting on the hangar deck, Lieutenant.”

“Do I really have to remind everyone of my announcement that those of you seeking arguments will be removed from the bridge immediately?” Bergander asked dryly, before addressing Herfeld himself: “I got your point, Lieutenant Commander. But still you won’t go.”

“Are you mistrusting me, Sir?”

“No. In this case not. But that’s just the reason why you will stay here.”

“Captain, if you think that anyone of us including me will use the possibility to leave you behind on Freeport 4, I can assure you that no one here got any such intention. You will have my word that I will have the ship waiting for your return and that we will do anything to rescue you from station if necessary…” Focussing on his eyes, Maria Heine added: “Despite of all our differences, you are Westerland’s Captain and he is the Executive Officer! You can definitely take him along. The ship will wait.”

Bergander recognized that he had no other way than going and taking Herfeld along. The Lieutenant Commander would never forgive him if he didn’t and the others would call him a coward if he left Herfeld behind to take care of the ship. It would look like if he was scared that his crew would run away. “All right, Lieutenant Commander. You are in. Ensign Bremer, tell them with light signals about our arrival with our shuttle. They shall send someone on the hangar deck.”

“I already got in touch with them. Their demand is that you come unarmed.”

“Unarmed?” Bergander echoed.

“Yes, Sir. They state that you won’t be permitted to enter the station if you or anyone in your company carries any weapons. They will regard it as a hostile act and deal with it accordingly.” She added with a helpless gesture: “Looks like the Rhineland military is not very welcome here.”

“When does the Rhineland military ever encounter the Independent Miner’s Guild?” Bergander asked back and explained: “They got all reasons to mistrust us. We could be anyone. Tell them that we are not trying to invade the station. Our ship is in trouble and we are seeking for help. We will come unarmed, but they will have to take care of our security. We respect their neutrality if their unwritten laws cover us.”

It took Bremer more than two minutes to tell the station personnel about this. The reply was a bit shorter.
“They answer that this is possible, but any force from our side will be met with force by them.”

“Good. Hence we are not intending to use any force it should be no problem. Tell them we are coming.” Bergander waved in Herfeld’s direction and started towards the door.

“I don’t like that, Captain.” The First Officer said quietly on their short way to the small hangar deck.

“Do you think I do? There is just no other way.”

“I can’t believe that there are such cowards in our navy.”

“There are many people like that, Herfeld. Lieutenant Heine’s demand and the way she voiced it was perfectly covered by the rules.”

“Still I don’t like it. For a second I thought that she just wanted to get rid of us.”

“This is the Rhineland Navy. Not some pirate ship where the Captain got to fear that some crew members take the command while he is away for some time. Heine won’t leave with out us. And even if she does, we got a Clydesdale and a pilot. We would get back home by taking one of the tradelanes.”

“And we would make fire below her ****.”

Bergander did not comment on that remark. He could even understand Herfeld, who disliked Heine. After what had happened recently on the bridge, he could understand it definitely. He did not like it, but he saw no reason to criticise him either. Fact was that Herfeld had proven to be on his side during the emerging conflict with his crew. The captain was human enough to honour that without being conscious of doing so.


-------------



Less than ten minutes later, the pilot had turned the Clydesdale’s engines off and the two officers disembarked in company of two army soldiers on Freeport 4’s hangardeck. In acceptance of the agreement no one of them carried any weapons.
Two representatives of the Independent Miner’s Guild awaited them. One of them was armed with a machine gun and stayed behind.

“We stick to our agreement.” Bergander said calmly. “We came to seek for help, not to start a war. This is totally unnecessary.”

“The judgement about what is necessary and what not is ours, Captain.”

The Westerland’s commanding officer extended his hand. “Sebastian Bergander.”

Not willing to let the Rhinelanders immediately come to the point and avoiding to introduce himself, the IMG man said: “We have a table in the bar reserved for our talk. If you were so kind to accompany us.”

“We would rather talk right here. We can’t stay here for long. Our only intention is to leave a message to Rhineland’s Naval High command here and perhaps....”

“The only possible reason why a captain from Rhineland would leave a message on an IMG station in unregulated space is that he expects his ship’s destruction and wants people to know where they will find the wreckage. My first concern therefore is the station’s safety. If your ship disappears in this sector, Captain, not few people will think that we are responsible for it. Especially if your message is found here. There are many in Bretonia and Liberty who don’t like us being here. Politicians, companies, others…”
The man paused, before he went ahead:
“You know, Magellan is not a rich system, but it would certainly enlarge one of the houses. It contains water resources. Our presence here prevents Liberty and Bretonia from being able to take over this system and forces them to stick to the original borders as they were defined in the Sirius border treaty 2542. Apart from the fact of course that business is going well again after the end of the Asgard rule. It makes a few companies in Bretonia and Liberty jealous. Any of their freighters on the way between the two houses has to pass Magellan unless the pilots want to take a very much longer route. Many of their pilots take a break here and stay for one night and have to pay for it. Or they seek for help because they got attacked by pirates. Just like you, Captain. So do you still think that we should not have a little chat in the bar?”

The IMG representative had gotten his point straight: No talk meant no granted permission to leave a message behind. No message being left behind resulted in a very unsatisfied bridge crew on the Westerland causing even further problems. Bergander had no choice. “All right.”

“Mind about leaving your bullies behind, Captain? There may be certain people in the bar who dislike Rhinelanders. The presence of soldiers would certainly create unrest. We could not guarantee for your safe return to your ship.”

Exchanging a long look with Herfeld, who looked very unhappy, Bergander nodded. “But I got to insist on you taking measures for our safety if necessary.”

“Currently you are guests of the Independent Miner’s Guilt. Our station is open to everyone who accepts our rules. The first rule is that we force anyone to leave the station if he breaks one of the other rules. The second of these rules is that everyone may kill each other as long as the IMG is not affected by it. Everyone setting foot on this station knows about this rule. He is responsible for his own life. The third rule affects you. Guests of the Independent Miner’s Guilt have to be left alone or rule one will be enforced. You don’t have to fear anyone here.”

“I know and I honour the IMG’s kindness.” Bergander gave the order for the soldiers to stay behind in the Clydesdale.
He saw Herfeld swallow hard as the man lead the way. It almost made him laugh, because the Lieutenant Commander was apparently not familiar with these rules. The captain was. He had been accustomed to them for the time being since he was a kid when his father had taken him to the freeports during his son’s holidays. Even after that when Bergander had been forced to live on Freeport 9 with Will Reaburn and Henning Sorsa, they had been accustomed to this rule.

Despite all of these rules, the looks they were regarded with were still not very friendly. The public in the bar consisted of station personnel and pilots, of the latter group some were probably pirates and other criminals. They could not always be recognized easily as Bergander knew from experience. In fact the bar was full to the last seat. Herfeld’s uniform and his own certainly were unfamiliar on the entire station. The military avoided coming here and so did the police. Bergander would even go as far as saying that almost none of the people here came from Rhineland space. Very well aware of their vulnerability and their only protection consisting of the IMG representative’s words, Bergander and Herfeld followed the man into one of the corners, sitting down on chairs in front of the table.
One false word and they would get killed. It was as simple as that. The IMG man had their life in his hands and both Rhinelanders knew about it.

“So. It is very much better to talk here. Can I offer both of you a drink?”
“A glass of wat…”

“We’ll take two whiskeys. Thank you.” Bergander interrupted Herfeld. The younger officer had definitely never been on a Freeport before. Only fools ordered water, which was mostly contaminated with bacteria.

“Make that three whiskeys.” The IMG representative advised one waiter who had just come to their table.

“So now tell me about your ship’s damage, Captain. We heard you have tried to get from the Leeds jumphole to the Manchester jumpgate.”

The Lane Hackers had probably told the IMG about it. News spread quickly in unregulated sectors.

“Yes, we tried to do so.”

“The Nottingham’s captain chasing you in Leeds was a damn fool, but you were even a greater one, Mister Bergander.”

Ignoring the insult, the captain waited until the waiter had handed each of them a glass of pure border world whiskey. After the man was gone again, he replied slowly and carefully: “We saw… a few Lane Hackers leave all of a sudden after they had attacked us. They just disappeared instead of going for the kill, which would almost have been theirs.”

“That might be because the storms have started again.”

“The storms?”

“Yes. Occasionally during the past few months, there have been times when every ship in the sector lost its radio. The jumpgates don’t work anymore then. We think it’s caused by ion storms of unknown origin. Some freighters even had problems with their navigation system. A few got lost and disappeared forever. Did you notice that too?”

“No. The Westerland’s navigation systems are designed to function properly in ion storms.” Herfeld answered quickly.

“We had one or two times images of radar ghosts.” Bergander admitted honestly.

“And the Magellan jumpgate did not react on the radio impulse.”

“There you go then. Seems like your ship is not that modern after all, Rhinelander. Or perhaps the gate technology it too old for your ship.”

“So you know by chance, when this is going to end?” Bergander was mainly concerned about their return to Bretonia.

“Heaven knows. In an hour, perhaps it will take two, maybe one day…”

Herfeld was interested. “Is there any explanation for this?”

“No. A few Lane Hackers made an effort once, but none of their ships was seen again. They just disappeared in the nebula.”

“The Asgard got them!” One man from the table next to theirs had turned half around facing the IMG man and the Rhinelanders. “The Asgard got them!” he repeated himself.

“Don’t listen to him! He’s just an old fool drinking too much! Everything fine, Jack?” The IMG man tried to distract the old pirate, but the man refused.

Instead he focussed the Rhinelanders. “I know what I am talking about. I have seen the carrier!”

“You always see carriers when you have half a bottle of whisky intus. Carriers, destroyers, cruisers, and many coloured angels flying around. Remember the time when you danced around naked, seriously stating that you are Jesus?” Their host seemed disgusted.

The pirate half got up. He had difficulties with it, but he managed to do so. Staggering towards their table, he finally stumbled over one of the legs of it and half landed on Herfeld’s lap. He grabbed an edge of the table what made their glasses land on the floor and steadied himself. “I shall be a liar? I never lie! I have seen the ship! It disappeared into the nebula and was never seen again! The Asgard got the Oregon! Soon they will come back and rule Sirius again!”

The IMG men reacted. The armed guard and their chat partner both got up and packed the pirate below the armpits, dragging him away from the table.
“Leave me alone!” the drunken man shouted.

“Yes, we will very soon. In your quarters, Jack. Tomorrow, you will see that the ships are gone.”

“Yeah! Gone they will be! Gone! Perished in the nebula! The Oregon was the first one!” Looking directly at Herfeld he announced: “And yours will be the next one! You will remember my words! They will come!”
Finally they managed to drag him away.

“Are you okay, Frederick?”
Surprised, Herfeld looked up, not expecting the captain to use his first name.
The short moment when their eyes met gave Bergander a very good impression what the Lieutenant Commander felt. He saw fear. An immense fear, which Herfeld tried to suppress immediately. Just a heartbeat, but an eternity. Bergander had seen this fear before… in the eyes of Lieutenant Florian Michels on board of the asteroid miner Royal Arch, when the Asgard dragged the Lieutenant away to kill him. Instead they had tortured him again and again, forcing him to murder Chancellor von Steinhausen.

For a moment, he saw the true self of his First Officer. This was not the man who had tried to kill him, Bergander decided. And even if he had done so, it had not been his wish. When he put his hand on Herfeld’s, the Lieutenant Commander pulled his away and stated: “I am fine, Sir.”

Bergander yet knew that he was not. The return of the IMG men, prevented him from saying anything though. It had to wait.

“We have to apologize. Do you need any help?” The border world inhabitants definitely tried to be friendly.

“No thank you. My uniform is ruined anyway.” One of the falling whisky glasses had landed on Herfeld’s trousers, spilling its content over them.

“Sorry.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Herfeld seemed to be somehow distracted.

“What did he mean?” Bergander wanted to know.

“Who? Jack?”

“If that’s his name.”

Slowly nodding, the representative sat down again. “It is. You have to know that he is one of the Hackers from Mactan Base.”

“I figured as much. What did he mean by us being the next ones?”

“I don’t know. He’s just an old fool. Even his mates don’t believe him. They say he drinks too much. It is an opinion I can only share, but as long as he pays for his drinks and does not cause too much trouble besides we don’t care. I threw him out for today and tomorrow he will be back. That’s the way it goes here. You throw them out and they come again.”

“And that part about the Oregon?”

The man shrugged. “Imagination. He probably saw the news and made up something. The Oregon has never been here. It would have been the top news on this station if it had ever been. If you ask me, the crew made an error and they blew the thing up in Kepler. Just like Liberty says. Why else would they have closed the system? After all there would be no reason to lie about it. Liberty will certainly know where its ships are at which time. It would be sad if they would not know. I can assure you that your cruiser is the first battle ship we have seen or heard about for more than half a year. You would be a fool if you believed someone like Jack.”

“Thank you. It sounded interesting though.”

“Yeah, but when you try to find the truth behind the tale, you will be searching for a very long time.”

“Hey! Guys! The storm is over!” One pilot had just entered the bar and told the news aloud.

Within a minute, the bar had emptied almost entirely.

“That’s the way it goes.” The IMG man smiled. “Until next time. We cannot complain. The storms are good for our business.” He extended his hand. “It was nice to meet you, Captain, although you are Rhinelander. Same goes for your officer. I suppose your request will not be necessary anymore. I assure you that your communication problem will be solved by now and that you can proceed without problems to the Manchester jumpgate. And if I may make one suggestion: you should better leave fast or you will encounter even more Lane Hackers than the eight fighters you encountered last time. You should watch out.”

“Thanks for the advice!” Bergander quickly replied and he got up. He had to touch Herfeld’s shoulder until the Lieutenant Commander followed him.

It was back on the Westerland’s hangardeck that Bergander asked him: “What’s wrong with you, Frederick?” He intentionally used his First Officer’s First name again.

“I… nothing, Sir. I should quickly go and change my uniform.”

Bergander caught up with him and made him stop. “I want an answer!”

“Sir, I don’t want you to mistrust me again, after all that happened…”

“I will mistrust you only, if you are not honest with me!” The captain insisted. “Come on! You can tell me whatever it is and I promise that I won’t be angry with you!”

Herfeld relented. Bergander saw the sweat on his forehead and the Lieutenant Commander did not meet his eyes when he spoke quietly: “The Oregon, Sir. The moment that pirate mentioned it, I remembered something I should have thought of days ago when the first news spread about the disaster in Kepler.”

“What about the Oregon? There was an accident. And?”

“What if it was no accident, Sir?”

Not really understanding the hint, Bergander shook his head. “What do you mean?”

“The Oregon was the Fenris until six months ago. An Asgard carrier. The largest one they had. About forty fighters. Its crew had deserted more than four months after my crew had done so. Of five months of our war against the Asgard, the Fenris had only fought one month on Sirius’ side. During the last month there has only been the New Berlin battle.”

“You mean that their captain only decided to fight for the right side when he became aware that the Asgard would not win the war?

Bitterness filled Herfeld’s voice when he replied: “Yes, Sir. I know I am not the right one to say it, but…”

“I think you have any right to say it, Frederick. You destroyed the Asgard flagship.”

“It wasn’t me, Sir. It was my crew. I just gave the order.”

“And that is one of the most difficult things to do. But why is that troubling you right now?”

“Because the Oregon’s crew is almost the same as six months ago! Captain, you know about Liberty’s recruitment policy! They have taken everyone in, as long as he fought for Sirius. It did not matter for them how long he had done so! They may have replaced a few officers, the soldiers and the pilots, but they did certainly not replace the entire crew! They just repainted the ship and called it Oregon! It was even the same admiral, who commanded it as Captain! He has been demoted, but apart from that nothing has changed! And now it’s the Oregon, which was having an accident in Kepler! I would believe in any ship having an accident, but not the Oregon with Admiral… pardon I mean Captain Hart on the bridge!”

“Hart? Are you talking about Jason Hart?”

“Yes, that’s him.”

“Jason joined the Asgard?”

“Looks like it. Of course he did!” Herfeld almost shouted the last part, ignoring his confused superior totally.

“Jason… why for Christ’s sake?” Bergander’s horrified remark made Herfeld calm down slightly.

“Captain? Are you all right? I am sorry, I did not expect that you know Hart.”

“It’s okay, Frederick. You could not have known. We were imprisoned in the same barrack of one of the POW camps on New Berlin after the Dreamland battle. He was Second Officer on the battleship Yukon. We saved each other’s life and were close friends at that time. I haven’t seen him since the end of the war.”
“I am really sorry, Sir. I just… don’t know what to say.”

“It’s not directed against you. I am just sad because he died.”

“No, Sir. You are sad because he has become one of the Asgard.” Herfeld said with a low voice.
It sounded like an accusation. He turned around and wanted to leave, but Bergander did not let him go.
“I am sorry! This came of course very unexpected, but please also try to see my point. This is not easy for me either.”

“Is that why you had believed the Bretonian who had me arrested?”

“Look, Frederick, what should I have said? Someone just gave me a high dose of Selicin with the intention to kill me and he is sure that he has seen you before!”

“I was told about that! I have been interrogated by the Bretonians! Why should I have been intending to kill you? To kill the only one who could ensure that I am able to serve again on the ship, which I love! It makes no sense! I love the navy! I am the first one of the Asgard to get the chance to serve again in Rhineland’s forces! Everybody is trying to forget, but why doesn’t anyone notice, that we are trying to forget as well? If it has been so great to serve in the forces of a dictatorship, why did we start a mutiny then? Why did we risk our life fighting the Asgard, if we enjoyed being a part of their navy? Why would I willingly destroy my own future knowing that I will be the first one under suspicion in any investigation?”

This way Bergander had never seen it. He was stunned, but Herfeld was not done yet. He touched the most sensitive point himself and said: “I know what the Bretonian thinks. He hates me because he thinks I was among those who killed the crew of the Rügen and who mistreated him and his men. I admit that I have been on one of the ships. I have even admitted it in front of the court material five months ago! I have taken part in bringing the Florida and the Cardiff down and I was also on the bridge of one of the ships chasing the Rügen prior to the point it was seized in Hamburg. But I swear an oath on the bible, my officer’s patent or whatever you like, that I did not take part in the murder of the Rügen’s crew! Inject me drugs if you wish or do whatever you like, but I did not bathe my hands in their blood! Whatever your friend says, I haven’t murdered anyone!” Tears were standing in Herfeld’s eyes as he ran into the direction of his quarter, leaving Bergander very dismayed behind.


Edited by - [WPIcefox on 2/7/2006 5:09:09 PM

Editorial remark: I am back again. Computer is repaired and I wrote again a few chapters. Probably enough for a dozen posts or more. Rather more because this story already reached Word page 140. At the current posting speed this here might be done during the next year or so. *g*

Each of my chapters has about the length of the one I just posted. I sent the people on my mailing list chapter 5 last weekend. Just began to write chapter 7 one hour ago or so. Well... please no one state that he hasn't been warned beforehand. Here comes the beginning of chapter 2!





Chapter II

Only four men disembarked after their Humpback had on the Oder Shipyard landed. The pilot had performed his final checks short after that and left. He had a long way after him and was happy to be back home. After the long way from the New London system to New Berlin, the freighter’s pilot wanted to sleep. One of the passengers had offered to relieve him, but an order was an order.
Sleep was a luxury that two of his passengers would not get right now, because there were people awaiting them.
Armed men and a large group of spectators who had come to watch the arrival of the Westerland’s commanding officers and of two of the crewmen. But luckily, there were no reporters among them. Apparently High Command had not given permission to broadcast from the yard.
Immediately two soldiers stepped forward. “Lieutenant Commander Frederick Herfeld, because of the accusation of attempted murder you are arrested until you will be taken to the judge tomorrow morning. Please come with us, Sir.”

“Who is responsible for that?” Bergander asked in fury. He had been told that there were people awaiting them, but not this way!

“Rear Admiral Mengel, Sir. He immediately wants to see you in his office.”
Bergander would have been impressed if he had not been angry. Mengel had apparently stayed on the Oder Shipyard all night to be here when the shuttle from Bretonia arrived.

“It’s okay, Sir.” Herfeld said.

“No It’s not! Be sure that I will protest against this kind of treatment.”

His First Officer nodded. “Thank you, Sir. I know you mean it. But please take rather care of your own problems. Forget about me.” he said formally.
If Herfeld had known Bergander for longer, he had known that his superior would never do so.
After the armed soldiers had escorted Herfeld towards one of the exits, Bergander looked at Flight Captain Hansen and Lieutenant Merx, who had volunteered to come with their commanding officers. Especially the Lieutenant looked quite shocked about the icy welcome.

“Hey! It won’t be that bad you know.” Bergander tried to cheer them up. It was reassurance he would have needed himself, but about such things he would only have talked to a few people.

“They can’t do anything against you, Sir. It would be injustice if they did. The Bretonian Admiral insisted on jumping into Magellan. It was not your fault. No one can predict a pirate attack! And if the Rhineland navy sends such under equipped ships out into battle, it is their fault and not the one of the officer commanding any of these ships!”

“Thank you, Captain.”

“For you Carl, Sir.”

Grateful, Bergander took Hansen’s extended hand and shook it.

Merx added: “Sir, whenever you may need us, you will find us here on station.”

“Thank you too, Lieutenant.”

“Phillip, Sir. I can definitely assure you that I definitely won’t set any foot on this pile of junk again, which they really call battleship.”

“Lieutenant Commander Heine will be missing you. You were a qualified engineer and a good damage control officer.”

“Who gives a damn about her? Apart from that she certainly won’t be missing me. She started to remind me of Captain Hennes. He never missed me either.”

Despite his miserable situation, Bergander had to laugh shortly. “That was a bad one!”

“Who cares? I certainly don’t.” Merx repeated.

“Me neither.” Hansen confirmed.

“I will see you probably tomorrow then.”

“Definitely, Sir.”

Both men saluted him and quickly left, leaving Bergander alone behind. Only his escort was still waiting. Even the spectators had gone. In his case, the soldiers were of course not armed, but they should make sure that he found his way to Admiral Mengel’s office. It was a humiliation for Bergander, who would directly have visited his superior anyway, and it clearly indicated that it would probably not remain the only one. He knew what he had to expect.

After they had reached the office, Bergander took a deep breath and knocked. Instead of any call, the door burst open and Mengel stood in front of him. The unusual behaviour only stressed the fact that the talk would become ugly, but the captain could not care less about it.

“Come in and close the door behind you!” The calmness was dangerous.
The Admiral went back to his desk and sat down. He did not offer him the possibility to sit down.
“So you got to tell me about a few things, Captain Bergander?”

“Sir, there is not very much to be told.”

“Not much?! Where the hell do you think you are?! Goddamn it, Captain, you made us look like complete fools! You almost lost our flagship against a few pirates!”

It had started. “Sir, we were operating in the nebula. We were avoiding contact with the pirates as good as we could, but one of their patrols must have seen us on radar. During the fight we got deviated about 5k from our original course and hit something.” Bergander intentionally left a few facts away like for example the one that the Beta cruiser class was not very much more than garbage in his eyes. Expensive useless garbage.

“You hit something where nothing has been. A ghost perhaps?! The Bretonians have charted the system and they use the route you have taken regularly. There are no wreckages or other things in the way! You just collided with one of the pirate ships and wish to cover your own inability with this lie! And after your visit on Freeport 4, you even wanted to fly back to the jumphole instead of flying directly to Bretonia! Are you crazy?”

“You can call me anything, Sir, but I am definitely not a liar!” He defended himself. “We have hit something and I wanted to investigate what has hit us and what causes those strange interferences in Magellan! Ships have been disappearing there!”

“Interferences in Magellan are not our business! Also not that confusing report about the things a drunken pirate stated about the disappearance of the Oregon or some freighters, which were not even ours. That Liberty carrier is in Kepler and won’t get anywhere else, no matter how much people talk about it! Ah while I am on it… Let’s talk about the question, why you have jumped to Magellan at all! And you better answer honestly, because the good relationship between Bretonia and Rhineland depends on it! Your answer is worth 2,5 billion credits!”

“Sir, you said yourself that we would be killed in Manchester. The captain of the Nottingham forced us to…”

“Don’t blame anyone else for your faults! Your crew stated that this Bretonian Admiral had a talk to his admiralty on your radio suggesting this step. The Bretonians insist that it was your suggestion. Has it been his suggestion or has it been yours to ignore the manoeuvre rules and jump into Magellan?”

That was the end of it as Bergander realized. Dale Baxter’s head or his own. If he told the truth, his friend, who was still in hospital, suffering from a concussion, would be dismissed. It would mean the end of Baxter’s career in the Bretonian navy after the incident in Omega-7. And by being there, the Commodore had saved his life. “It was me, who made the suggestion, Admiral.”

Shocked silence, which was almost a pleasure for Bergander. Somehow all of it did not matter anymore. If he did it, he could do it entirely. “What about Lieutenant Commander Herfeld, Sir?”

“He will have to face a court material and if he is guilty he will be sentenced to death.” was the only answer.

“I have to protest against that. A court material is totally unnecessary. I probably ate the poisoned food on Planet Hamburg on Saturday before we left the yard.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“Definitely, Sir. I would swear an oath. I remember that my burger, which I had in a fast-food restaurant on the spaceport tasted quite strange.”

“You are trying to cover him. So I guess you are playing with the thought to leave the navy?”

“If that’s the price for our good relationship with Bretonia, I will. My only demands are that the court material is cancelled and that the men who have come here with me won’t have any disadvantages from doing so!”

“You are not in position to make any demands, but I will talk to Admiral Niethammer and our minister of defence about it. You will hear from me tomorrow. Dismissed!”

It really cost Bergander all control he could summon, to salute Mengel before he left.

The admiral called him back once: “Captain? When I was talking about you being an integration figure some days ago, I certainly did not mean that you should become friends with that Asgard and bring up the entire crew against you. If that’s the way how integration works for you, you were probably the wrong man for the job. You can go now.”




Edited by - [WPIcefox on 2/7/2006 5:31:18 PM

Edited by - [WPIcefox on 2/19/2006 6:21:53 AM

Wow, that was long....
I didnt even try to read it, My suggestions though...

Put a line after every dialouge.

"Like so." he told him.

"Ohh, Now I understand." came the reply.

"THis makes it much clearer." he elaborated.

See?

Also, post shorter chapters, and break em up over a few days. That will get more readers. Plus, you can include cliff hangers.

I cannot really change the way I write I fear. My single postings include at least one unit in the story. I will reduce it that way though that it is definitely only one. For the past I cannot do that though. The posts will remain that long because I cannot and do not want to take back units I have posted weeks ago.
For today I initially posted two and will delete one again. About breaking up one unit I also do not really know. It would mean interrupting in the middle of a situation or talk.

In general I write my stories in something like a book-form. Open a thick book and you will find that it has chapters being a few pages long as well. I cannot reduce one chapter to a single post. It would end up in my story having about 60 plus chapters (I roughly guessed). It would also mean a totally different style of writing and honestly I always liked it the way it is and got my readers this way.

I will think about your suggestion with the dialogues though. I saw that the other people did it this way, but I wanted to check out whether it really needs to be. In fact whether someone really complains, what has happened now. The posts will become a lot longer this way though.

Just please tell me what a cliff hanger is. I never heard the word before.


Edit: Chapter and new post re-edited your way. The new ones up from next week will immediately come this way.

I also considered shortening or a further decrese of speed and I decided against it for the following reason:
I think that one of these posts is not too much for one week. It has seven days after all and if someone is really interested he will surely find the time to read it. Many people probably spend hours in this forum reading. My past experience has shown that there is a way if there is a will. If there is no will it does not make sense anyway.

Edited by - [WPIcefox on 2/7/2006 5:29:04 PM