Schwarzesmarken: Fixfiction Episode One

Prologue available here: http://pastebin.com/3WbmXqsW

----

Loyalty is a fickle thing. It can be bought, sold, traded, earned, lost; it's as transient as the relationship it's bound to, always in flux and forever trending up and down on a plotted line. The Deutsche Demokratische Republik demanded such loyalty from its citizens on penalty of death or work until death. Work could have been anything, anything at all that would have contributed to the perpetuation of the DDR. To many it was farming and providing local-grown food for the population. To others it was fighting on the ever-encroaching front, selling their lives dearly so that their families could live another day.

Genosse Theodor Eberbach, Leutnant of the East German Army 666th TSF Squadron, had since fallen into the latter category. The Doom of Damocles had been levied, and under penalty of death he was sworn to fight for the continued existence of the DDR. For three years he had been drilled in the usage of the NVA's MiG-21, utilizing TSF frames in an effort to reduce and, someday, beat back the endless tide of the BETA. For three years he had been plagued by the too-frequent reminders, either by mail-drop or pointed questioning, that he fought for the lives of his comrades as well as his father's.

The Ministry for State Security, or Stasi, would allow him visits from time to time. They had kept his father's location a mystery, instead arranging for 'get-togethers' every few months to ensure his continued loyalty. Theo hated himself for thinking the obvious: Had they murdered his father three years ago, he would not be nearly as cooperative. In fact, he probably would have been shot in an escape attempt long ago.

The mission briefing for spying on the 666th was supposedly simple: Follow orders, report on any wastes of ammunition, psychological stressors to manipulate, and keep his comrades alive. In that order. Theo was tasked to be the mole to his Commissar's moral support. Where she would mete out punishment for any infractions officially, he would be required to report on everything in secret. It didn't help that suspicions had begun to arise.

Laserjagd is a simple concept: Cut straight to the source of the BETA's long-range support, the Laser and Heavy Laser-classes. The NVA and their supplementary forces still had more than enough artillery to rain down hell upon advancing platoons of Warriors and Grapplers; it was the Laser-class that would deny them battlefield superiority. The pinpoint beams of death served only to anger commanders and cut down on experienced manpower. Because the Laser and Heavy Laser-classes could effectively defend a BETA push westward and gain valuable ground, entire task forces of TSF squadrons would be sent to neutralize Laser-class positions wherever they could.

The 666th was one such squadron dedicated to Laserjagd operations: Even if they were hailed by ailing soldiers about to be overrun, they were instructed to disregard any distress calls and accomplish their mission. Should the BETA have access to their long-range capabilities, entire hectares of land would be lost to the alien hordes. Indeed, if squadrons  like the 666th were derelict in their duty of Laserjagd and found culpable, they would face the harshest of penalties. Theo had chuckled at that briefing: Any failure would be met with 'unspeakable' repercussions.*

"Attention all units! Laser-class forces have been eliminated. We will now leave the combat area; ascend to an altitude of 100 meters, there isn't much time before the artillery hits."

And the battle was already over. Such missions had become rote at this point; the 666th would engage in rapid assault tactics after flying over the bulk of the vanguard Tanks and Warriors. Machine gun fire would  blister or shred through any stragglers, and melee served even better at close range.  Their  multi-purpose supplemental armor shields** could also serve as a  bludgeon or sharp edge to cut into the Tanks.

Up close, the Laser-class types weren't frightening. To some children, even, they were referred to as 'cute'** with their wide eyes and diminutive nature. It was those eyes that prevented any attempt of premature aerial bombing. Put simply, the Laser-class was deceptively deadly: The casualties they inflicted were testament enough.

They were, however, extremely fragile. A single burst or well-placed round from an assault cannon would pulp a Laser-class, incapacitating or killing them outright. To maintain such an advantage of their squishy forms, the 666th relied on rapid strike tactics to drop in and overwhelm their targets, then immediately evacuate prior to a carpet bombardment by allied air forces or artillery batteries.

"More enemies, Comrade-Captain. Let the infantry handle them and let's get out of here!"

Theo winced as he saw the advancing assortment of Destroyers and Grapplers. They had neither the time nor* the ammunition to deal with reinforcements; for once, Commissar Gretel Jeckeln had said something agreeable.

"More of you, you damn monsters!?" Anett shrieked into the comms, her TSF settling back into assault formation.

"Anett!" Her friend, Inghild Bronikowski cried out in alarm and moved to stop her, reaching out.


"We don't have TIME for this! Let's move, dammit!" Theo barked immediately,  his eyes tracking the forward Destroyers rapidly approaching their position.*

"They killed my friends! I won't stop, not until they're all dead!" Anett couldn't be reasoned with. Her 'treatment', whatever the doctors claimed to give her, was clearly not working. And if this continued she would get them all killed.

So, Theo did the most logical thing.

"Schwarze-7, grab her arm! We're leaving!" He bolted forward, alarmed by the flurry of snow in their immediate vicinity, and tossed his spent assault cannon in its general direction.*

A Destroyer burst forward from the snow, its pyramid-like carapace glistening in the sun. Some would say that they had a strange, brutal beauty to their hides. Those people would then be shot. The Destroyer struck out at the weapon, distracted by the sudden movement, and Theo took his chance to grab ahold of the raging Anett.

"Inghild, up! Now!" He keyed his thrusters and struggled to not mind the shrill scream of his comrade. She was like a child throwing a tantrum; her tantrum almost got her and Inghild killed.

They made altitude and were soon in formation with the others, departing the area of operations not long before the NVA's artillery thundered off in the distance, partially blackening the sky with rockets.

Finally, Anett had shut up. Theo had considered muting her inbound comms, but that would be in poor taste. Maybe. He'd definitely include her little episode during the battle in his after-action report, of course.

"You followed orders, Schwarze-8." Squadron Commander Irisdina Bernhard's voice came over the comms via a private line, stating it as a fact. It sounded as though she was surprised.

"Is that a problem?" Theo wasn't really sure how to react. One doesn't just let their comrades get killed, no matter how troublesome they might be. They needed all the warm bodies and skilled pilots they could  get.

"An observation, Lieutenant Eberbach. I'm considering sidelining Hosenfeld for a few days after that outburst. She would have lost us a pilot."  At least the Captain could see that much.

"Possibly two. That cuts down on our capabilities, Captain." He wasn't going to outright agree with her. He had to appear neutral, even if he didn't want to.

"We will think of something. For now, I'm sending our Rearguard back to base. We've had a recovery mission just come in from HQ*; a UN TSF unit  was  hit within Polish territory. Commissar Jeckeln is fixing to send us  in  so the UN owes us a favor."

"I highly doubt she would pick me--"

"I am picking you."

Theo scowled. The Captain ignored the rumors, but there were plenty floating around about her: She was a Stasi informant who sold out her brother to the more devious officials in exchange for political power. Did Irisdina Bernhard somehow know about his father? Rather, did she suspect HIM of Stasi affiliation?

"Roger." He cut the link and sank back into the cockpit, sighing aloud. So much for a routine day. Had he not been chosen, he wouldn't have had to include the inevitable perceptions of whoever these UN forces turned out to be. Had he not been chosen, he wouldn't have had to deal with Captain Bernhard. Still, orders are orders.

----

The flight over the Oder River was silent save for the snowy gales and the roar of their engines. In truth, this was one of very few times that Theo was alone with Captain Irisdina Bernhard; such a thought was disconcerting in its own right. Not only were they low on ammunition, but it was just them against whatever had forced the UN unit to request aid. Just what was the Commissar thinking?

Then, of course, was the elephant in the room* itself: Captain Bernhard's Stasi rumors. Would she probe him with questions, see how he conducted himself outside of combat? Would she know about his weekly reports on the 666th?

"Lieutenant Eberbach." He almost jerked up on the controls at the sudden transmission.

"C- Captain?" A quick look around on the viewscreen showed no contacts. She wanted to talk, then.

"Why do you think a UN TSF unit is out in Former Polish People's Republic Territory?" What a mouthful. Was she actually testing him?

"I wouldn't know. Scavenging supplies, maybe? Recon? Some idiots got lost and wound up in hostile territory?" All solid ideas. There was also the obvious possibility, but suggesting a spying mission would label him as paranoid or worse.

"There are no known remaining settlements this far east, Lieutenant. Why would they risk their lives for any of those reasons?" Yes, she was testing him.

"You tell me, Captain. I'm not seeing anything on radar; are you sure the request wasn't a faulty report?"

"I think we--" Be-eep, be-eep, be-eep, be-eep. Radar returns. Contacts.

"Keep demonstrating your skills as a pilot, Lieutenant. Let's go!"

"There! Six-hundred meters northeast, two Phantoms in combat- no, make that one!" Theo could only cringe at watching the first-generation TSF have its legs smacked out from under it by a Grappler, its hulking claws striking with more than enough force to shatter the knee joint of the machine.

The second Phantom swept the length of the Grappler with its assault cannon, shredding the beast at point-blank range. The BETA were held at bay by the withering cannon fire, but they could only be held off for so long. Theo knew the clock was ticking.

"Secure that pilot, Schwarze-8! I'll support the remaining Phantom!" She had to be kidding. There were BETA still standing, and a single shell missing its target could allow a Grappler free access at shearing him in two.

"We need to clear the area, though!?" He didn't want to expose himself to the BETA. Not like this, out of the confines of his cockpit and vulnerable.

"That's an order, Lieutenant!" Theo froze. That damnable word. He grit his teeth, wanting to yell out and refuse.

"Yes, ma'am!" Damn her. He dropped down beside the fallen Phantom and hit the cockpit release, instantaneously assailed by the cold and just how LOUD the WS-16's gunfire was.

"Damn it, damn it, damn it, damn it!" Theo would have appreciated the brisk afternoon air if he wasn't running at full tilt, extremely cognizant of the fact that a Grappler had done exactly as he feared and feinted away from his comrade's shots. It felt as though the monster was less than a hundred meters away until a burst splattered it. Theo shuddered; he didn't want to be bathed in alien blood.

The prone Phantom was easy enough to climb onto now that he didn't have to worry about incoming BETA; Theo ascended the frame, thankful that it had landed flat on its back, and released the hatch once he checked that his immediate area was clear.

What he found was the lithe form of a young girl, long brown hair spilling down past her waist, her pale face split by an open head wound. Blood seeped; a quick glance indicated a shallow cut, but the girl was definitely unconscious. What alarmed Theo most was how familiar she looked, both similar and not to his long-gone sister across the Wall.

"What the hell is she doing here...?" No other obvious wounds. She might have a concussion, but the girl was intact.

With a grunt of effort, Theo leaned in and hefted the girl into his arms. She was practically weightless, and maybe at most 163 centimeters tall. Turning back to face the chilling wind, Theo once again raced across the ground and back to his TSF. He'd done as ordered; he could only hope that this was all that was needed for the day.

"Captain, I have the pilot!" Resituated, Theo re-engaged all systems in preparations for a fight.

Satisfied that he was not in danger of being attacked, he maneuvered back to the Captain's flank. Curiously, the Phantom that had fought alongside Captain Bernhard now had its arms up in surrender.

Theo blinked. "Orders?"

"UN pilot, disarm and you will be escorted by us back to base. We request your full cooperation and good conduct in this matter. If you do not comply, I cannot guarantee your safety." Captain Bernhard spoke clearly, emphasized all the right words, but her words felt empty. Maybe it was because Theo knew what the Stasi did to spies.

"Is my friend safe?" What the-- that voice... It was unmistakably female. Horrifyingly familiar.

Captain Bernhard chuckled. "That is the first thing you ask? Lieutenant, link your video feed."

And so he did, tilting his camera to showcase the unconscious form of the UN pilot beside him. Curiously still, he saw nothing in return on the TSF pilot's feed. Then, a private comms request.

"Theodor Eberbach?" Instantly he prepared any number of defenses and questions. The UN knew who he was? Or was this a Stasi plant? This was a private channel, right? He tried not to widen his eyes too much, tried to modulate his voice.

"Who is this?" He couldn't hide the suspicion.

"It's me, Theo." The black screen began to lighten as what looked like a sheet of cardboard was pulled away from the feed. There sat a woman with light blonde hair, pulled up in two ribbons. Hauntingly blue eyes shone back at him through the screen, a quivering lip betraying the young woman's shy smile.

His heart plummeted under unfathomable weight. His blood scalded with icy tendrils lancing down his nerve endings, cold tickling down his spine. He felt as though he'd go blind in a sudden rage, refusing to believe his eyes. Theo slammed his fist down, cutting the private channel and video feed.

"Did the pilot confirm her comrade's status, Lieutenant?" Irisdina Bernhard popped back up on his screen, entirely calm and at complete odds with how he felt.

"Wh- ah- I-" He couldn't formulate coherent speech. Couldn't respond. Why? Why her, why now? Why the hell would she--

"Lieutenant!" His Captain barked, regaining some of his senses.

"Yes, Captain! She did." There was no God here. No God would be so cruel as to send down the BETA to judge them. No God would send his sister back into Hell.

"Good. Watch the Phantom, make sure its pilot tries nothing funny. We are returning to base."

"Roger." Not like this. God, not like this. Theo deflated in his seat, that old despair welling back up from its cold depths. Goodbye to his peace of mind, his fragile sanity in this insane world. Hello reality.

----

The base had been awfully quiet, even after the reports of TSF victories had been made public. Numerous motorized riflemen and a small chunk of the NVA's tanks had suffered in return; more casualties would be added to the ever-growing list of martyrs in this war. Theo was thankful for the silence, though. It meant that he wouldn't be hard-pressed to do his other job, that no one would try to take him out for drinks or throw a ham-handed story together about his team's heroics. All the better, he thought. Work never ended.

Gretel led the way down to the medbay, a hall of rooms dedicated for rest and recovery for soldiers who could be back up on their feet in a matter of days. The hospitals and emergency medical stations were separated from this portion of the base; they would no doubt be crowded after a Laserjagd operation.

"Comrade-Captain Bernhard is interrogating the first of the UN pilots now. Whatever the girl says is confidential, Lieutenant Eberbach. Understood? Her name is Katia Waldheim; she was part of the UN Atlantic Theater TSF Battalion, German Bundswehr 101st. The girl is 15 years old, born in Hamburg. She volunteered for the army after her parents' deaths. You sure brought us some trouble, didn't you?" Gretel spoke with a grudge in her tone, her stiff posture and short strides a tribute to the woman's current irritation.


Theo suspected that something else was going on, but he knew better than to act on that suspicion. He grunted an acknowledgement and stood off to Gretel's left as she approached one of several doors before knocking and entering.

They stopped a few feet within, the Commissar was already locking the room down with a click of the keypad. Inside the room was empty save for an occupied bed, a table some feet to its right with a tape recorder and lamplight, and a chair. Captain Irisdina Bernhard nodded to them as they assumed various positions.

The girl, Katia, was dressed in what looked to be light blue pajamas. She had a number of bandages wrapped around her forehead, propping up her hair in a sort of poofy parody of what was her usual style. She cheerily sat up from the bed and stumbled off of it, catching her footing before she could slam face-first into the floor. The girl was extremely clumsy, it seemed.

"U- Um! Second Lieutenant Theodor Eberbach, right? Thank you for saving me!" Katia excitedly bowed her head, acting very much like a young girl with her mannerisms and gesticulating. This girl didn't belong on the battlefield-- as he thought that, she reached for his hand.

"I'm--"

"Don't touch me!" On reflex Theo shouted and slapped her hands away, taking two quick steps back as if dazed. Who had told her his name? Was it Irisdina or Gretel; why would they extend the courtesy of his name? She would no doubt be locked up soon enough, right?

"Ah! U- Uh!?" Katia stumbled backwards, off-balance, and fell back onto her bed. She looked up at him with a confused expression; Theo could only gaze back in heavy distaste. He didn't notice the concerned Commissar beside him, nor did he acknowledge the alarm of his Captain.

"I'm sorry!" Katia bowed her head again, "But I wanted to thank you properly!" Ach, she really was a child.

"Do you plan to thank everyone who saves you on the battlefield like that?" Unthinkable. To owe anyone their life here, in East Germany? It was worse than a death sentence.

"Yes!" A nod. "You saved my life so of course I'd thank you." Gretel shook her head at the affirmation; Theo frowned and looked to the Captain.

"So did you learn anything new, Comrade-Captain?" The Commissar spoke up as if eager to change the topic.

"I was just talking to her about the squadron." What?

"She's from the West!" Gretel shouted and gestured widely, taking a step towards Irisdina.

"Just what's been publicly broadcast."

"Right! You're East Germany's strongest TSF squadron, the 666th, bearing the Number of the Beast, also known as the Schwarzesmarken. You're famous even in West Germany. U- Um, well I- I have something I need to ask of you! Please let us join your squadron! Liza and I--"

Commissar Gretel Jeckeln strode towards Katia in a flash and smacked her, cutting off any further train of thought she might have continued.

"Comrade-Captain! What did you tell her?!" Gretel raised her voice even further now.

"Nothing at all. You can listen to the recording later." Irisdina, still seated, maintained her calm. Theo envied and despised her for it, the woman not even batting an eye in the face of a Commissar. To Theo, that was a sight.

"Comrade Katia Waldheim, would you tell me why? You know that what you're asking is very serious, right?" She turned her attention back to the small girl, returning to the discussion at hand.

Katia held onto her smarting cheek, her eyes glistening as if threatening to cry. She frowned and hardened her expression.


"I've always admired you all. I've always wondered what the other Germany looked like, and who lived there... I've always wanted to visit someday. I've always wanted to make friends with the East Germans!"

Unbelievable. Either this girl was as naive as they came, or she was a poor spy who thought this would somehow convince them, or she was a clever spy who portrayed herself as an idiot. Either way, Theo seriously doubted that this would work on the Commissar. Gretel snorted in response.

"Your thoughts, Comrade-Lieutenant?"

"You think I, the political commissar, would allow it?"

Irisdina wasn't about to be denied. "She would fill the hole within our ranks. With Inghild also on the sidelines tending to Anett, we desperately need to maintain our force capacity. I suggest we see to it that the pilot the room over to be persuaded as well."

"Are you insane? Not one, but two strangers? They could be liabilities!"

"It's a fact that they survived on their own in the Polish territory. Two Phantoms against who knows how many BETA until we arrived. Right, Second Lieutenant Eberbach?" Irisdina smiled, perhaps a bit smugly.

Theo blinked. The woman had probably planned for this to happen and she wanted his support. Did she not care that not one, but possibly both pilots could be spies? Was her desire to 'fill the ranks' that much more important to risking leaks? He looked away, determined to not dignify her with a reply.

"Then you want me to use my authority as political commissar? I see." Gretel blinked her eyes shut, her face pensive. Katia, too, wore a complicated expression. Certainly she'd say no; they hadn't even debriefed the other pilot yet.

"I'd like to confirm something, Second Lieutenant Katia Waldheim." Oh, no.

"Yes!" The girl looked up, determined.

"You are seeking asylum in our country, right? And you swear loyalty to your new homeland, The Party, and the army?" No, dammit, no! Theo saw the whites of Katia's knuckles, the shaking of her arms.

"Y- Yes. I, Katia Waldheim, formally request asylum." To give the girl credit, she didn't stutter with her declaration.

"Very well. I'll prepare the paperwork; Comrade-Captain Irisdina will remain here to ask you a few more questions while we talk with your friend next door. Be aware that if her story doesn't match yours, we will take appropriate measures. If everything appears to be fine, I would like to emphasize to you that this is an extremely special case, and not one made out of trust."

This couldn't be happening. He had no frame of reference to cover for Lise, if that was actually Lise next door. He didn't want to see her hung for some small girl's desire to be Special Forces, only to watch her get killed in the next mission. Theo felt sick.

"Yes!"

"We will be back. If everything checks out, Second Lieutenant Eberbach will oversee your training." Gretel smiled primly.

"What?" Of course. Of course it would fall to him.

"You saved her. Is there a problem?" Damn it all.

"N- No."

Irisdina grinned up from her seat. "I'm counting on you, Second Lieutenant Eberbach."

Theo suppressed a sigh and thumbed the keypad, unlocking the door. He exited and waited outside for the Commissar who, clearly, did not share his views on credible threats. Or maybe she just wanted to see him squirm. He took a deep breath to steady the micro-tremors of his hands and looked off to the next room over, noting the exact same door, the exact same color coating. It would of course be entirely different.

How would he greet a woman he thought was long gone, spirited away from this insanity? Did he say anything at all and potentially betray whatever cover story she might have? Would she even have a cover story? Katia had used the name 'Liza', unless she mispronounced the name. If she had just returned as Lise Hohenstein, the Stasi would undoubtedly have many questions to ask her on the other end of a branding stick or a gun.

Theo wanted to vomit up the ration bar he'd consumed on the way over. That wouldn't be wise; he hadn't eaten anything else since this morning. A few moments later and Gretel exited the room, wiping off her glasses with a sleeve.

"Do you have your sidearm, Comrade-Lieutenant?" Theo blinked down at the woman, automatically reaching for his belt. He didn't like the implications of such a question.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Good. If this 'Liza' is more mature than Katia Waldheim, we might actually have a threat to security. If I do not like what she says, I am authorizing you to perform summary execution." She readjusted her glasses, sliding them back onto her nose.

Theo suddenly felt very cold in the hallway. A dozen different rationalizations for Lise's appearance popped up in his head but they couldn't be vocalized. He could only nod dumbly; they were in front of Lise's room in a matter of seconds. He wanted to be anywhere but here right now, preferably under his bed.


"After you, Eberbach." For fuck's sake-- Theo entered as the door slid aside.

And there she was, only without the ribbons. With hair as fair and long as Irisdina Bernhard's and her crystal blue eyes, the young woman could have been a sister to the Captain. She, too, was similarly dressed in light blue pajamas. Clearly this part of the base had been lacking in actual hospital gowns, but Theo was thankful for such a thing. He didn't want to see vulnerable women in negligee with questionable infantrymen around.

Lise Hohenstein, several months younger than Theo, had grown up well. She didn't seem nearly as thin as she was three years ago, which was definitely good. Her skin had a healthy texture to it, and her overall form seemed to be in good shape. That in and of itself could be a red flag: Why was Lise in such a degree of physical fitness? Had she actually joined the West German army?

"Liza Whittmann, correct?" Gretel stepped around Theo, frowning at him until he realized he'd been staring for too long.

Lise blinked once and jerkily nodded her head. Theo's heart sank; she had a cover story.

"Yes, ma'am." She was quiet, too. Not laughing and smiling like she'd used to, but given the circumstances... Such awful circumstances. Why the hell had she come back?

"We talked with your friend, Katia Waldheim. She has formally requested asylum in East Germany and wishes to fight with the 666th. Is this surprising to you at all?" Gretel had folded her arms, not bothering to keep the skepticism from her voice.

"No! We both wanted to join and make a difference! West Germany doesn't have to face nearly as many BETA as you do; they don't know the horrors you deal with! We want to help, turn your shield into a sword!" Her eyes alit with fire, a sudden passion in her tone. It would have been convincing to some. Theo knew better.

"Uh-huh... Why would you go so far east into former Polish territory, Whittmann? You didn't get lost, did you?" Gretel smiled.

"Actually... We did." Oh, dammit. "Katia's unit had been hit by a BETA platoon north of East Germany and we were turned around while trying to escape. Katia is good with engineering so she salvaged some of our systems to keep hers going. I... I think that made my tracking malfunction."

"You didn't have a compass?" Gretel blinked. Yeah, that excuse seemed weak.

"Would you be able to gather everything you could before defecting?" Lise shrugged. Shit.

"... Did you bring anything of note with you? We searched your Phantom and found a lockbox. I assume it either has personal effects or information you do not want us to see." Gretel grunted at Lise and rubbed at her temples. It seemed like she was getting tired of this.

"I took some blueprints of TSF frame improvements with me. Um, they included overhauls on targeting software and some armor upgrades to improve pilot survivability--"

"How did you get your hands on those? That's an awful lot of goodwill you're trying to cater, Miss Whittmann." Come on, Lise, don't be obvious...

"Um, I worked in experimental warfare for West Germany's 101st Bundswehr TSF Battalion. Katia had helped me with mechanical issues before, too." That wasn't much to go off of, nor was it a good kernal of information to volunteer.

Gretel's eyebrows rose. "Would you be willing to give us this information in exchange for asylum?" Wait, what? Commissar Jeckeln suddenly looked greedy.

"Of course! I want to contribute, too! P- Please don't torture me. I am willing to talk." Lise suddenly pulled back, as if afraid. Theo's stomach tensed.

"West German propaganda, Miss Whittmann. We only levy harsh punishments upon spies and traitors." The irony hurt like a shotgun blast to the stomach.

"W- Well, I'm neither of those!"

Gretel grinned. "I will believe you for now, Miss Whittmann. Should you cooperate, I will have your paperwork done by morning. Once that is complete, you will report to Comrade-Lieutenant Theodor Eberbach here along with Katia Waldheim for training."

Theo stood up straighter, not trusting his vocal chords to say the right words. He tried not to acknowledge Lise's warm smile as she stared at him.

"Yes, ma'am! To start with, pilot casualties are usually resultant of debris from high impact..."

----