Chapter 280

Meeting of the G20, St. Moritz, Switzerland

Mats Lindström´s dutiful service in the „Earth-Whereever Germany happens to be-

Contact Group" had led to his rise in Sweden´s officialdom. Due to this, now his
last year with the Contact Group was nearly over and he was busy training his
successor, a Walloon. Gaston LaGaffe, whose first words after introducing himself
were „Do not ask! I did not name myself.", showed a lot of promise. (Google Gaston
comic) As had become custom over the years, meetings of the major Earth nations
included a briefing about what was going on with Germany, Wang Chan and the other
Earth pieces teleported away by „the Event". Including theories about what the
displaced Earthers might do in secret.
Mats had scoffed in private about this constant questions for most of the time, but
now with his time in the Contact Group nearly over and his last big briefing, he
knew he could be a bit more open than usual.

„Well, as I have been asked before this briefing to start with this particular
topic, as nearly always I start with Germany´s projected military situation. I have
to state that not only I, but most people in the Contact Group consider this
extreme interest in a military not even present on Earth, bordering on obsessive-„
„Dear Ombudsman Lindström, while we agree that it is not a very probable scenario,
it might happen someday that the magic powering all this will stop working and
Germany, Wang Chan and the other parts of Earth might return. After that everything
geographical has to return to as it was before."
„Ah so, then I fear I have a newsflash for you. That won´t be as easy as you
believe, even if I read your implication of doing so at gunpoint! Germany, Wang
Chan and the other pieces of Earth over there have grown since arriving there. If
what knowledge we gained in cooperation with the mages from Marienburg is correct,
this kind of magical ritual is big on corresponding, sympathic and similarity
effects as well. Meaning that with a surety of 97.7% all Earth-based regions would
return to Earth at their size as of that moment.

And this is not trivial. Germany might be the major part of the Earth regions
transported by this magical mishap, but the results can be seen better elsewhere.
Ever since a Nipponese trade convoy stumbled over Wuvulu Island two years ago,
contact has been made with the other Earthers on Warhammer. On Earth, Wuvulu had
about 900 inhabitants and was 14km² in size. Since they lucked out more than any
other part of Earth over there and ended up in a hinterland even Chaos seems to
find boring, they held on without being wiped out. Today, Wuvulu became part of a
larger island on arrival, the Island itself measures 2600km², has 4.000 citizens
and controls a further 25 islands with about 3.000 inhabitants. This might be small
numbers, but compared to the starting point, this is massive.

Our hosts lost the villages of Tamins district in the Wärldhoppet and while their
inhabitants moved to Germany, the villages are now used by some Orkoid tribes since
roughly a decade. Reichenau-Tamins would return with their new ‚citizens'."
„What?!", came from several delegates of the briefing,"more of this green pest
would come to Earth? But they are not Swiss boys and girls?"
„No, not at all. While there is a chance people would be deposited back where thy
started out in the beginning, this is not a likely scenario, considering the
changes in the meantime.
Anyway, back to the topic at hand. As of today, Germany has a land area of a bit
over 446,000 square kilometers, roughly 90,000 more than on Earth in 2012.

Most of this growth, about 3/4, is in the West and South-west, the rest in the East
and Nord-East. For those of you returning to this meeting, this should be old news,
since Germany holds these new territories for quite a time already. Not included in
this figure are outposts and colonies, like Saratosa and Neupapenburg. Neighbouring
nations are the Empire in the East and South and the Kingdom of Bretonnia in the
West.
Population wise, Germany has 94 million inhabitants. Largest minorities are the
Nipponese and Imperial-descended citizens. Locally, the Bretonnian migrants in New
Silesia are a sizeable minority there. As far as we know, behind the Empire of
Cathay, the Kingdoms of Ind, Germany is the third-most populous Human- majority
nation, neck to neck with the Empire.

Current government is a three party coalition of center-right CDU/CSU, national-

conservative Kaiserlichen and the pro-business-liberal Freisinnigen under
Chancellor Markus Söder from the CSU.
For those among us returning to the post here in the contact group, it is not new
information that the progress made by the displaced Earthers on the other world is
a weird one.
Germany has many great scientists and engineers, but their number is a lot smaller
than those here on Earth. Another factor is that Germany once produced for billions
of people, today their top of the line products might be accessible for about 120
million people, if we are magnanimous.
This makes a lot of things expensive and slows down research. Due to these factors,
Germany and the further Earth parts on the other world are stagnating or falling
behind in many scientific fields. This is partly, but only partly, mitigated by
plans and blueprints they buy during the contact windows.

On the other side, their new home has varied, rich and nearly untapped resources to
use, new things to discover in the future and functioning Magic. While the local
societies were Early modern Age at best, many just Medieval or not even that, you
cannot completely discount their advances outside of High Tech. Case in point,
major powers like the Empire, Cathay, Tilea or Nippon have developed an exceptional
concrete.
Looking at it from Earth, it is difficult to estimate how potent the Magic factor
is when it comes to scientific research. Likewise skewing the picture are
developments Germany has to research quickly due to geopolitical necessity or
belief of such pressure.

Here the example is the German Space program. It is no question at all that Germany
had to jumpstart their Space program to keep the satellites they came to
‚Warhammer' together, running.
But here on Earth opinions vary much about what could be the reason Germany is
still pumping generous founding in the program after securing the satellite
situation.

Even the first version of the ‚Greif schwer' rocket, a derivative of the Ariane
program, outclassed the lift capacity of anything we have here on Earth by a
margin. The ‚Greif' has been upgraded 4 times already, not to speak of their newer
designs like the ‚Zwilling' or ‚Morgenstern' classes. Their .Kopernikus' Space
Station is comparatively huge and they visited the two moons Mannslieb and
Morrslieb. And the Germans made at least a flyby of Tigris and Verdra, the
neighbouring planets. According to news in the newest data package, ‚Morgenstern',
the Type ship of the Morning Star Class, has started an exploration voyage of the
whole star system!

As you can imagine, speculation is fierce about the reason Germany is pushing Space
exploration so much in such a short time with their limited resources. Especially
since for about a decade many German space vessels are armed. The experts are
divided if there is a real need for this or if the Germans have, not surprisingly
if so, become simply paranoid.
Much hints towards a form of paranoia caused by the succession of wars they had to
fight. But there are voices which say that we cannot disregard the fact that there
are factions on the other world, like the Asur, Slann or Chaos, which might be able
to bring credible threats into space via magic.
And now, while I would like to talk more about the nation of Germany itself, but
due to incessant requests, I continue with Germany´s Fighting Forces.
As best as we can estimate and project, the current strength of the Bundeswehr lies
somewhere between their Cold War size and the peacetime strength of the Old
Imperial Army, closer to the Imperial Army, around 680,000-700,000 members.
While all branches were enlarged due to necessity, the lion´s share went to the
land and naval forces. The Luftwaffe saw a sizeable enlargement as well, but here
the focus was on Air Defence and ground support. To be mentioned, even if it is not
important for us on Earth, is Germany´s Space force of two or three armed space
ships and a couple of armed satellites.

The German Army soldier of today is not equipped all that differently from the one
of the various Earth armies. Typical differences are due to the situation on our
two planets. Gas masks and several anti-toxins are issued to every soldier to be
carried at any time. Their ballistic protection is tougher, yet lighter than ours,
Earth simply lacks spidersilk to copy the design. Their steel helmets are
reinforced via alchemical processes. With the help of Marienburg Earth developed a
similar, if more rudimentary, process, but production is bottlenecked by costs and
a small pool of expertise and raw materials.
While in the beginning the German Army did mostly just watch the development of
powered Armor, now they are equipping quite a number of units with Power Armor in
several variants. Their standard issue Mauser rifle has a much higher calibre than
Earth standard battle rifles, as some of their potential enemies are tougher than
humans usually are.

A Battle Armor carrier AFV is being delivered to their forces.

The Leopard 2A8 after two upgrades is now being phased out of duty or relegated to
Landwehr and reserve units. The most numerous tank in their arsenal is now the
upgraded Jaguar MBT. That is quite an interesting design, a modular battle tank,
which can be equipped for various tasks beforehand, based on the Puma IFV. Elite
and veteran Panzer units are equipped with the upgraded Tiger. The experts guess
that it depends on the configuration the Jaguar is in, how well Earth tanks would
fare against it.

According to them, the Germans named the new Tiger like this for a reason. In the
estimation of combat power, Earth has nothing comparable to these ‚Cat' rolling
around.
Besides updating their designs to the changing situations, Kraus-Maffei-Wegmann and
Porsche are experimenting with follow-up prototypes. The designs are going into the
direction of the tanks visiting France a couple of years ago. More after the coffee
break..."

Bunker, Neustadt, Naggaroth

The stew had a yellowish-brown color, the vegetables in it were cooked until they
ran into each other and the bits of meat were salted pork. Gernod knew that nobody
would take his food away. Glancing from the corner of his eye he saw the other crew
man the machine gun, so he had more than enough time. Still, he could not break the
habits hammered into him during the dozen years he had survived under the Druchii
yoke. Food, no matter how vile, had to be consumed right now and as fast as
possible. One never knew whether one would be allowed another bite, and if the
masters would allow more time to eat another hungry slave might try to eat it for
him.

His time in Neustadt had been so much better in all ways that mattered, so much
that he could at least reflect on the folly, but he could not break that habit.
There were scars all over his body, ugly things that reminded him of Druchii
cruelty. There were scars in his mind, ones unseen, but at least as horrible as
those that marred his skin. He used a bit of bread to clear the bowl of anything
edible and wolfed that down. Looking up he saw that Kuan Ti unsurprisingly had done
the same.
Eating at that speed meant both had some time to kill before their spell at the
machine gun was up again. It was Gernod who broke the amicable silence.

"So what are your plans when all of this is over Kuan Ti?"
His loader blinked a couple of times before she answered. "What is there to plan?
We fight of course."
"Yes, we do that, but it won't be forever. If the Druchii win there is no need for
any plans, we will be dead or they use us, no matter what we want. But what if they
give us our..what was that..autonoma, no autonomy or the Germans evacuate us from
here?"
"Work for the Patron?"

Gernod chewed on the answer for a second.

"Because you want to work for the Patron or because this is what you have been told
to do?"
All of a sudden Kuan Ti' voice was a bit subdued "Do you say we should run from the
Patron, go from here?"
"By the Lady, no. He is good, treats us fair and is our best bet anyways. But
suppose they set us free, what would you like to do?"
Now it was the slightly pudgy loader who had to think.
"What does it matter what I want? The Patron tells me what to do."
"Is that so? You work extra-hard so your kids get extra lessons and so you have a
room for yourself. Not to forget cinnamon rolls…."
"How could I not work hard for the kids, they are mine and when Anja bought them
for me I just had to take care. I mean when the Fates allow you to keep your
children."

Gernod looked at her and shrugged his shoulders. That he was not aghast at the
thought of parting children from their parents at the leisure of their "owners"
just said how long he had been here.
"Now suppose they take us to this place Anja speaks about, this Germany. I do not
think they'll let the Patron continue there, not really. So then you have to make
your own decisions. What would you like to do?"
Kuan Ti's eyes became even larger than before.
"No Patron? Make my own decisions? But what if I decide wrong?"
"Try to get the lore of that land first, then make decisions I say. And if you are
wrong, then it is at least your decision."
"That is easy for you to say, you are a man, you have no children and…and you have
been free before."
Gernod's Gallic shrug betrayed his origins better than his accent.
"Yes, that is so. But isn't being free better than this? Free to raise your
children as you think fit, work for whomever will have you, live where you can?"
"Is it better than starving?"
"Uff. Tell you what, everything is better than having the bloody Druchii place the
collars back around our necks. We keep them out first and worry about what to do
later?"
"That is right and no mistake."

Before the wire, Neustadt, Naggaroth

Zeros' clothes had been made from hand-spun threads and had been woven through
hundreds of hours of slave's work. The Druchii warrior had worn them for decades
and they had been lovingly kept. Their cut, their colors and tabs displayed his
elevated status among even the Black Guard. A position he had trained, fought, and
murdered for with all his Druchii heart. His gear had also included intricately
crafted armor, polished to a sheen with nasty spikes and a high helmet enhancing
his height. It filled him with great pride and had looked the part. Now he had
discarded the armor which was so useless in the face of rifles and artillery and
even left his halberd behind. He had allowed a slave to darken his garments with
root extracts. He should not have bothered, the black mud he crawled through would
have defiled the uniform well enough. There was a lot of cold water in that mud and
it had drenched the cloth thoroughly.

Like any Druchii Zeros would laugh at such discomfort, they were used to far worse
abuses. He feared the cold though. If this got worse he might shiver or his teeth
chatter. And sound, any sound was not conducive to continued respiration where the
Druchii warrior was going.
"Going" was a far too generous term for what Zeros did. He crawled through the mud
like a worm, trying his very best not to be spotted by slaves. Zeros hated the new
times with a vengeance, he wanted to go to battle in a proud square with his fellow
warriors. Still, discipline was everything with the Black Guard, and if Kouran
Darkhand ordered him to crawl through mud and cut some wire, then by Khaine he
would do that. And Kouran had the right of it, the wire was dangerous and needed to
be removed before the slaves could be punished. Zeros had seen it himself and he
marvelled how such a simple thing could be so dangerous and resilient. Just the
thin wire, strung from one pole to the next in a haphazard manner.

And yet, the Druchii could not storm it, their halberds could not part it and even
the mortars would just move it about a bit. Then it would still be there, waiting
for anybody to get so close that it would catch and cut, to hold its victim till a
bullet found his way.
The Black Guard did not ask for volunteers, that was not their way. Zeros and a
dozen others had simply been ordered to go out and remove that wire at night, when
the hapless slaves would not be able to see them. The Druchii warriors would still
be able to find their way and do what was needed. Later tonight, long before dawn,
the Black Guard would assault right through a wire belt that was no longer there,
into a line held by slaves that were blind at night. Zeros had to keep himself from
fantasizing about the revenge he would exact on those slaves he found.

And then all the cold wetness, all the humiliation of crawling like a worm through
mud to avoid the attention of slaves paid off. The dark pole was hard to see in
this moonless night, even for him. But he saw something all right and he could feel
the rough wood well enough. He pulled the pliers from his belt and asked himself
when that had become a valuable tool of war but for interrogations. Slithering
closer to the pole he pushed himself up with his left hand. The cold mud swallowed
it and black goo seeped through his fingers for the briefest of moments. Then the
ground itself gave way with a flat wooden crack. The sensation was still travelling
through Zeros' nerves to the brain when a nail that had been inside the thin board
the Druchii just broke hit a primer. The primer exploded instantly, igniting a few
dozen grams of low-grade explosives. The shockwave removed the hand, arm and large
portions of Zeros' head before the brain had any chance to parse the information.

The remaining eye was open and reflected the light of the flares that descended on
parachutes, bathing the landscape in an eerie, flickering white light. His pointy
ear focused the sound of machine gun salvos and of dying, but no brain could make
any sense of it. His erstwhile comrades cursed him and his fellow wire cutters when
mortar shells descended on their marshalling area.

Kouran Darkhand watched his last assault falter before it really started. Other
Druchii would have dragged their feet, but the Black Guard's commander was nothing
but loyal to Malekith. And the Witch King would be ill served if he threw the Black
Guard against Neustadt's defenses again and again till they were ground to dust.
Subduing the slaves took far greater resources than he had available and a
different set of skills. Kouran looked at the ancient halberd in his hand and asked
what all the years he spent mastering his weapon were worth now.

Karond Kar, Naggaroth

Theros Fatewaver was sure that this day would kill him, and he did not care.
Actually it might be a good thing given how much everything hurt and how exhausted
he was. He was the last surviving Druchii in a team of DawiZharr slaves. The
DawiZharr treated him even worse than the real slaves as he was one of the enemy.
And the beings who he was chained to at night treated him even worse as even they
had somebody to despise. That Theros was of the people who had treated the very
same slaves far worse might have something to do with it.
Whatever the reason he had been given hind tit when it came to the meager food,
been beaten by both slaves and slavers alike. That he was given the heaviest pieces
to haul played a role as well. By now his slender frame was emaciated, nearly every
inch of his skin covered with welts, fresh violet bruises or their yellowish
remnants. His eyes were red-rimmed and his lips cracked in many places.
He had given up the fight some time before and that made him careless.

His death had been a certainty, the date had been close. What brought things to an
end were the DawiZharr dreadnaughts. If Theros would still have the capacity to
think about such things he would deem that fitting, the ugly ships might doom his
entire race.
One of them was in Karond Kar at any given time. The never-sufficiently-damned
dwarfs performed arcane maintenance and rituals on them. Theros and those like him
had to carry provisions on board, others herded slaves on board who would never be
seen again.
A few weeks before Theros would have feared being one of these slaves, now his only
concern was taking another step forward, no matter how tired his legs were. He had
to work at keeping his eyes open despite the pain and weariness and listen to the
commands shouted at him.

Yesterday night four more dreadnaughts had sailed into the harbor, taking up all
quay space. Ever since then the slaves had carried supplies from the warehouses
into the ships. There were nearly no breaks and Theros had not received any food,
he was too tired and exhausted to feel any hunger. When he reached the foot of the
gangway again he caught a glimpse of shells lifted high by a crane. His mind
wandered to that for a second too long and his right foot missed the gangway. He
did not dare to drop his load and that provided the inertia that tipped him over
the railing into the black waters below.
The moment he Druchii dropped into the bay the cold burned against his skin like a
brand and drove all breath from his lungs. Theros' chains were so heavy that he
would not be able to make his way to the surface again. Hypothermia and his
exhaustion saw to it that he fought the impossible fight for only a few seconds.
When he reached the harbor's bottom he was already immobile and dead before long.

He was just the first death in the battle that would decide Karond Kar's fate,
others would follow before too long.

Ice Carrier Leviathan, 500 kilometers from Karond Kar, a few hours later

Raimund Scheer stepped outside, onto a bridge wing that gave a breathtaking view of
the carrier and the sea around it. A quick scan confirmed that radar, the lookouts,
and the magical detectors had the right of it: There was nothing threatening or
even remarkable around Leviathan.
The preparations of another biplane launch were far more interesting, but were not
his problem. Leviathan's wake had a bigger bearing towards his responsibilities and
held greater satisfaction: It was as straight as wind and waves allowed for.

A few weeks back the bridge crew had found the right power settings that made the
ship go more or less straight. Having happily reported this at the officer's mess
he had been dumbfounded when the Chief Engineer and his ice mage proposed reshaping
Leviathan's hull so that the differential power settings were no longer necessary.
Three days later there was a bulge on the starboard side that corrected a trim
imbalance and provided the extra resistance to straighten the huge ship out.
Raimund Scheer was an experienced seaman, but using magic to change his ship's
shape had not been a subject during his studies.

The biplane's deep rumble became a shriek when it was pushed to peak power and the
chocks that held it were pulled. It still accelerated more slowly than the noise
suggested, the plane was full of fuel for a long reconnaissance flight. It was fast
enough when it hit the ramp and the deck's edge and jumped up when it hit. The
pilot pulled his plane to the right as soon as he had sufficient speed to do so.
Raimund nodded approvingly. If the engine failed and the pilot had to ditch his
ride there was no way Leviathan could stop before running the pilot over. It was an
open question if that mattered so much in these frigid waters, but it was good
practice still.

The thought came unbidden, but still took hold. "Commanded an ice carrier built by
magic, crewed by Kislevite peasants, with a complement of dwarf-built wooden
biplanes" would provide a nice extra in his CV, not a trip into the looney bin as
it would have in the old world. None of the bridge crew asked why he started
giggling manically, but they gave him that little bit of extra space when he did
not stop after a minute.

Pursuit 01, 300 meters AGL, 200 km before Karond Kar

The sky above Hartmut Klawitter was filled with towering clouds, leaving spaces for
rays of light that seemingly supported the sky like the pillars of a titanic
cathedral. The waters below his plane was filled with ice floes and dark icy
blackness.
When he turned his head to the right there was the dark speck that was Pursuit 02.
There was no living thing in sight apart from his wingman and that made Hartmut
Klawitter a very lonely man.

The wooden instrument board before him was filled with several beautifully detailed
dials, brass knobs, levers and a TFT. The latter needed to come out whenever the
plane was seen by anybody outside the Wild Geese. While the plane would neither
have surprised Anthony Fokker nor the engine Sir Stanley Hooker the electronics on
board would have fazed both. Neither the Antigua Small Arms factory nor the Dawi
could produce these and they were very limited issue outside of the Reiksbund.

A very decent GPS system gave position, speed, and altitude with great precision, a
satcom an internet connection and a line to his ship. There was space for a rather
sophisticated Radar Warning Receiver that would allow the little biplane to avoid
detection if needed. All of that was exceedingly useful and necessary for
fulfilling the Wild Geese's mission. It would also hint at a much closer
relationship with parts of Germany that both the mercenaries and their sponsors
were happy with. Which just meant it would be dismounted when anybody from outside
could have a look.

Hartmut steered his plane towards a point where satellite recon indicated the enemy
might be. His flight was a bit superfluous, but served the same purpose as
dismounting incriminating electronics. If the Wild Geese's air component just
happened to find the Chaos Stumpies, that could not be helped could it?
Even with hours-old satellite data, the ships that Klawitter had been sent to
locate were a very small needle in the haystack of the Great Ocean. That the ships
supposedly did not smoke at all did not make things any better.
Still, Hartmut's flight would try as long as they had fuel and their electrically
heated flight suits worked properly.

So far there had been a great lot of ice floes and nothing. Klawitter checked the
TFT about the time to the next planned turn when something caught his eye. When he
tried to spot what had caused the flash he thought he had seen, he found nothing
but the black sea and white foam…
His thumb pressed the to-talk switch.

"Pursuit 02, this is one. Course change to 090, I think I spotted a wake. Over."
"Pursuit 01, this is two, copy course change 090. Out"
Hartmut Klawitter had been an observer before he had become a pilot. He had some
very interesting memories and welts from that time. And one of the things he had
learned was that the wake of a ship can be far more visible than the ship itself,
at least from the air. Some truths do not change, be it from a plane or the back of
a dragon.

Whatever he had spotted disappeared behind the biplane's engine cover for a moment.
The planes closed the distance quickly, and before long a line of ships appeared
before Klawitter's flight. The mercenaries shifted course slightly, there was no
need to overfly the enemy. Even from this distance the ships were amazingly ugly.
Their tumblehome hulls, the guns that struck out in many places and their overbuilt
superstructures made them look less than seaworthy. He just switched his Go-Pro
camera on to record the DawiZharr ships when his wingman exploded in a fireball.

The pilot wasted no time on recriminations or to look for the enemy. He pushed the
stick to the lower left and kicked the rudder pedal as far as it would go. At the
same time he moved the throttle all the way forward before fumbling with the lever
that released nitrox into the engine. By the time slow-seeming fireballs raced by
his cockpit he had switched the fuel mix to rich, just in time to avoid melting the
engine. The V-8 roar became a shriek in seconds and the propeller adjusted to the
new power setting. Gravity and 700 horsepower combined to accelerate the Pursuit
Special to speeds that would nearly rip the plywood off the wings.

Hartmut Klawitter pulled up, aiming for the nearest cloud and then allowed himself
a look around. Two Flugscheiben tried to keep pace with him and failed, but not by
much. And that was bad, as in very, very bad. Currently he was a bit faster than
the bad guys. To do so he used an engine power he could keep up for five minutes,
if Murphy was in a good mood that was. He could already see the oil and coolant
temps raising to their redline limits. Even if the engine could keep this up
forever he was running through his fuel reserves at a breathtaking speed.

Judging the distance to the flying disks in his head and watching the needles
rising he pulled the throttle back that little bit. Salvation of a sort was before
him, beckoning with arms of grey mist that wanted to embrace him. Entering the
cloud was like changing worlds. One second there was the bright winter sunshine,
the blue sky above and the black water below. The next there was a formless grey
fog, and all directions were the same. The engine sounded muted now and droplets
accumulated on the windscreen before him.

Klawitter banked the plane into a turn before pulling the throttle way back. He
barely saw the trails left by autocannon rounds that passed where he might have
been without the course change. He tried to remember the shape of the cloud and the
best way to use it for cover. Realizing it was a useless endeavor he changed course
towards the far-off Leviathan.
To the best of his knowledge nobody on the side of the Reiksbund had fathomed how
the damned Flugscheiben detected their targets. If it was something else than
visible light he could die any second now and would have no warning whatsoever. And
now that he did not need to do something every second the reality of the situation
claimed him. He had lost his wingman, a comrade of several years. He had barely
cheated death and would probably have to do it again before he had any chance to
see the carrier again. He could not see much farther than his propeller and whether
he lived or died was up to chance and the will of vengeful demons bound to steel.

He started shaking despite his well-heated flying suit and breathed far too fast. A
queasy feeling hit his stomach, threatening to become more. The thoughts "how could
I allow myself to be ambushed" and "how do I expect to survive this" chased through
Klawitter's head. He turned his head in an attempt to spot something, anything that
might threaten him. He saw only shades of grey, formed into threatening shadows by
his mind. There was a pressure on his chest, on the place where the Wyrm's scales
pressed against his shirt. It reminded him of the times he rode the dragon behind
Yerena and of his mission.
The satcom needed a few seconds to connect him to the carrier, but rewarded him
with a brilliant connection.

"Leviathan Control, this is Flight 04. Be advised there are five DawiZharr heavies
at coordinates 971544, estimated speed 10 knots, course 110. Ships have
Flugscheiben CAP, number unknown. Pursuit 02 has been shot down, no parachute.
Enemy is following me. Over"
"Pursuit 01, this is Leviathan control. Copy five DawiZharr heavies and
Flugscheiben. What type DawiZharr heavy? Out"
"Leviathan, three cruisers, two verdammte Scheiße…"
"Pursuit01, this is Leviathan control, please repeat. Pursuit 01…

As suddenly as he had entered the cloud the plane left it, leaving the gray funeral
cloth for being presented in bright sunshine and a blue sky. And slightly below the
plane was a flying disk. Hartmut Klawitter could not breathe for a long second,
frozen at the stick of his plane. Something in his mind snapped and he pushed the
throttle all the way forward, engaging the Nitrox controls that made his engine
shriek. Pulling the stick at his chest Klawitter forced his plane into an ever-
steeper climb till the biplane tipped over and the sea was below the pilots head.
The cloud beckoned before him, promising safety for as long as his fuel would last.
Still the stick remained where it was and now the plane raced for the black waters
below. Pulling that little further Klawitter placed the flying disk's top right
under the crosshairs. He screamed incoherently when he pulled the trigger.

The Flugscheiben were notoriously well armored, the very steel of their bodies the
means of their flight. The .50 cal machine gun that protruded through the Pursuit
Specials spinner would normally just bounce off the thick armor. And that was
exactly what happened to the vast majority of the rounds that hit the flying disk.
The tracers showed how they were deflected into all directions. Still they were
shot at one of the few places the flying disks were vulnerable. Hartmut could not
say if they bounced or if a few lucky hits penetrated into the Flugscheibe. He
dropped past the Flugscheibe in a flash. Pushing a rudder pedal he turned his plane
180 degrees before pulling the stick up again. The Pursuit Special accelerated till
it shook from aerodynamic forces it was not made to take. Hartmut randomly pushed
the rudder pedals and changed altitude in an attempt to evade. A few autocannon
rounds passed by his left wings, but nothing more followed. The flying disk's guns
were notorious for being useless except at the shortest of ranges.

The next cloud embraced Hartmut Klawitter a minute before the engine forced him to
reduce power.

Article in "Boote" (Boats, magazine for recreational watercraft)

"The Dropout boat"

The first purpose-built watercraft on Earth were made about 8000 years ago, by all
likelihood the first ones on the Warhammer World are much, much older. How likely
it is that somebody comes up with a completely new type of boat?
And yet, the last years have seen the advent of a new type of watercraft. While
they look different, have different means of propulsion used in different water
they have one thing in common: They are made for full time residency and they allow
for cheap, off-grid living.

The boat makers and shipwrights of the Warhammer World find themselves in a
difficult position ever since Germany entered their world. This goes double for
anyone working in or with the Reiksbund. Nearly all made their craft from wood and
powered them by sail and rudder. Once the German yards found their feet again they
produced steel ships with diesel engines. They can carry so much cargo so much
faster that they were not competing with the traditional shipwrights, they were on
another level entirely.

Yes, many yards saw the signs of the time and either licensed German methods and
technology, entered joint ventures or sold out to Germans. But still there are far
fewer yards now then there were ten years ago and quite a few will join those
already gone before long. Salzenmund used to have no less than 50 yards, now there
are five. Some of those who survived have retained their principal methods, but
looked for a new clientele.
The yards produce recreational watercraft at amazingly cheap prices. Their woodwork
often combines beauty with function and their craft certainly do not suffer from
the use of modern caulking materials and power tools.

At the same time there are Germans, who for the lack of a better word, can no
longer take it. Surrounded by a world that changed faster than comprehension
allowed for, a world that challenged core truths is too much to bear for them. They
look for a simpler life that does not ask them to adapt to new realties every other
day and that lacks the security of the old Germany on Earth.
First a few and now quite a number of such people have found themselves a way to
live they can stand. An imperial yard builds them a hull, be optimized for riverine
or littoral waters. Imperials provide for some of the fittings and furniture,
Bauhaus and Second Hand shops do the rest.

The new printed flexible solar cells are fixed to every piece of available deck.
Crashed cars provide the gigacaps to store their output. Electric motors drive the
screw, sails sometimes complement them.
And that is: For the price of a family car you have a home, a means of getting
around, to provide power, and given you like fish, part of your diet. Living on the
Empire's rivers can be very cheap, doable easily on even a meagre pension or online
employment. Taking the boat into the Sea of Claws will give the owner a much wider
horizon and a young Kraken a potential food source. The Wadden Sea is usually
deemed safe, but some parts of the Imperial coastline is quite definitively not.
They are getting popular these boats, let us have a look at some of them…

Briefing Room, Leviathan, 400 kilometers from Karond Kar

Hartmut Klawitter had a steaming mug of coffee before him and the attention of
everybody in the room. His eyes were focused a million miles away and his voice
flat and toneless.
"There were five of the big fuckers. Three are these French cruiser copies, two
like the very old dreadnaughts. I only got a short look and no pics, sorry. The
bloody Flugscheiben ambushed us from the clouds, did not see them till it was too
late. They got Thivsha on the first pass, she never had a chance. I barely made it
by going for the clouds. The machine gun won't scratch them at all and I saw at
least four of them. My engine will need a rebuild, I ran it for at least ten
minutes on nitrox. These things are faster than a clean Pursuit Special unless we
use boost, we climb better and are more maneuverable. Does not matter though if we
can't hurt them. Sorry boss, as long as the Flugscheiben are up we cannot attack
the ships."

Wolfgang Böhler's face was set in stone when he heard the leader of his flight
element.
"I think we discussed this before, didn't we?"
Klawitter's tone was between resigned and questioning.
"Yes, but didn't we decide we need the weapons for the Mechs?"
"We have different options for those, but none for the bloody Flugscheiben. So we
will have to change the loadout of..,how many do you think Helmut?"
"Half the wing, at least. Will make the attacks more difficult. Not that there is
much choice."
"Now that the Chaos Stumpies have gotten wind of us somehow, none at all. They are
certainly faster than we are. And I do not fancy our chances in a ship to ship
engagement with them. They have the big guns and can dictate range."

Hartmut Klawitter's shoulders sank even lower for a second before straightening
themselves again.
"Then my boys and girls should better not fuck up, huh?"
"No pressure, no pressure at all Hartmut. But I know you can do it."