A group of people sat near the edge of a landing pad, and looked on as several men stood around a Transport with green and black cargo pods. A particular man with black hair graying at the temples stood holding his young son's hand, and a tear fell from his eye.
"Papa, why are you crying like that?" the boy inquired, innocently.
The man looked down, and smiled at the boy.
"Volker, you don't know. You have lived here on Stuttgart for as long as you know." the man replied, another tear falling from his eye, "With this transport, New Berlin, our people, the people of Rheinland, will never go hungry again."
"But why do they do hungry, papa?" The boy asked, again with innocence, "Can't they grow their own food? Don't they grow food like us?"
"No, Volker, no. Berlin is different. You don't remember, but it is just, different," the man replied, not wanting to confuse the boy. Volker started to say something else, but was interrupted by the Transport lifting off, and the group simply stood on the edge of the platform mystified.
"This is a day you will remember, Volker," the man stated, another tear exiting his eye, "This is a day that you will tell your grandchildren."
"Why don't you tell them, papa?" asked the boy, with a jubilant smile hiding the curiosity for what his father would say "You're a much better storyteller than me."
The man simply looked down at the boy and smiled, a final tear exiting his eye as he led his son off the landing platform.
[8:32:45 PM] Dusty Lens: Oh no, let me get that. Hello? Oh it's my grandma. She says to be roleplay.
[12:49:19 AM] Elgatodiablo: You know its nice that you have all that proof and all, Bacon... but I just don't believe you.
The sun set over a beautiful Stuttgart estate, which overlooked a field of golden wheat. The field did little to stifle the majesty of the sunset, and lent it's beauty to that of the light. A pair of brothers ran through the field, playing soldier and uttering strange noises from their mouths.
"Hans! Franz! It's time for dinner! Come inside!" a motherly voice uttered from the edge of the ridge overlooking the field.
The inside of the estate was quite lavish. Laden in fine cloths and gilded finery, the fact that the house was occupied by a family who had little financial worries was quite apparent. The dining room table was set with abundance, gilded silverware and china presented a meal of venison, sweet potatoes, and steamed eggplant, while gilded glasses and goblets presented the some of the finest wines, beers, and juices that Stuttgart could offer. The family that sat around the feast was clearly from Stuttgart, being of fair hair and fair skin. Two seats for the boys playing in the field were empty, though they entered soon after the rest of the family began eating.
"Echstein," began the mother as she picked at her potatoes with her fork, "Did you hear the news about the new Docking Rings?"
"Rings?" Echstein replied as he cut a slice of venison, "What rings? What happened to docking the normal way?"
"Apparently they make exiting the gravity well easier," began the mother again, "But they won't be big enough for transports, which doesn't help us."
"Well, Julia," Echstein replied with a tinge of annoyance of stress raising his voice, "Won't affect us much, will it? We just keep plowing the fields and sending the wheat, how will docking rings change what we do?"
"I don't think it will much, Ech," Julia responded, lowering her voice minutely, "Just an interesting fact, I think."
"I don't think anything here is going to change much, Jul," Echstein continued as he rose to put his plate in the sink, "Nothing here will ever change."
Echstein left the room, and the rest of the family continued to eat.
[8:32:45 PM] Dusty Lens: Oh no, let me get that. Hello? Oh it's my grandma. She says to be roleplay.
[12:49:19 AM] Elgatodiablo: You know its nice that you have all that proof and all, Bacon... but I just don't believe you.
Helm?t Mueller sat silent in his Wolverine fighter, scanning the horizon for this target. His wingmate did the same, as did the three man crew of the Transport which lay in wait for the Wolverines to fulfill their mission. The Wolverines were strangely lacking the green and black cross of the Rheinland Empire, and instead bore a single yellow talon, reminiscent of a bird's claw.
"Targets spotted," Helm?t voiced over the comms, spotting a pair of transports cascading over the horizon, "Ten o'clock at two kilometers."
The wolverines thrusted away from the Transport, calculating an intercept course on the two transports. The transports attempted to initiate Jump Engines, however, they failed, just as the Talon fighters had hoped.
"We are the Talon," Helm?t began, "We will take your food, either by force or by cooperation."
"Rheinland does not negotiate with terrorists," the comms crackled in response.
"Then reap what you have sown, fool," Helm?t responded, as his Tachyon cannons ripped into the hull of the transport.
The darkness of space between Stuttgart and New Berlin was illuminated for a split second, and the transports disappeared, with a lone cargo pod remaining intact in space.
"We are the Talon," Helm?t said, talking to the open space as if it were a crowd of onlookers "You will comply with us, or you will die."
The Transport came closer to the debris, and latched onto the cargo pod. Helm?t stared intently at the fruits of his labor as it drifted off into the blackness of space and followed reluctantly.
[8:32:45 PM] Dusty Lens: Oh no, let me get that. Hello? Oh it's my grandma. She says to be roleplay.
[12:49:19 AM] Elgatodiablo: You know its nice that you have all that proof and all, Bacon... but I just don't believe you.