Refining Deck Gamma, Bautzen Station, Dresden System
10/12/824 AS, 1557 Station time
"H-hold on. We can talk this over. You don't need to do this.."
The man on the other side of the window pressed his hands against the cold, transparent surface, his eyes pleading and hoping to find a reaction. His fancy suit was torn and crusted with blood, blood that had begun to soak the fabric for days. One day, he might have been an athletic man, but as of right now, he was nothing more than a husk. A husk of a man that she, and she herself had broken.
She leaned against the wall behind her and mustered the man in front of her. Mortimer Lehmann, businessman and lobbyist. The last prize on her list, or at least, the last one on the current list.
"You made your choice. Now make your peace with the consequences."Her voice could have cut steel just by the coldness in it. She knew full well what kind of impact it had by now, which was why she had never raised it again. The low, threatening tone, just barely louder than a whisper, was way more intimidating. She turned around and pressed the button to her left, not even staying to hear the hissing of atmosphere venting out the airlock behind her. The door she had left through closed even before the man had died. One more or less. It didn't matter anymore.
It had been months of deadly, quiet, waiting since they had returned. Waiting on help that took too long to return. Waiting on, relying on even, someone she neither trusted nor wanted to trust. But the reds were a necessary evil. A cancer to be excised, true, but if one was taking on a leviathan as large as her enemy, one needed people that were ruthless enough. And they definitely fitted that requirement.
The doors of the lift opened, and she stepped out into the crammed corridor. People, tightly packed, some using hammocks above her head to have a place to sleep, others just passed out at the walls, scrambled to get out of her way. Conversations paused mid-sentence, men larger than her stepped out of the way. Annika caught some glances with her eyes, noticing that they were not only filled with the respect she had once instilled. Those people did follow her out of belief, true. But they also were afraid of her. And she could not deny that this feeling gave her a slight rush of adrenaline. This was power, in its purest form. But at the same time it was not the end goal. It was a means to an end, a tool to be wielded, just like the hessians were, just like Ostara was.
The corridor ended in her quarters, and she entered without hesitation. A year ago, she'd have shed the catsuit, gotten into something more comfortable, tried to find a way to relax, to forget her daily routine. Now however, she didn't even remove the gun from its holster when she sat down in front of her desk. The chaos on it was gone, and so were the coffee stains. Left was only neatly stacked datapads, one terminal and a few electronic pens, ordered as if someone had used a ruler to measure the exact amount of millimeters between them.
She engaged the terminal. The screen only showed a black screen, and one single folder of data, which she promptly ignored and began to use the contacts menu. Messages to send, orders to give. Today was time. She had finally gotten rid of the last trace of treason within the remnants of the Armee. The last man that had stood with the HVEB had just breathed a full lung of vacuum, and now, it was time to wake the snake that would bring down the leviathan. While she sent the messages, the orders, she looked out of the window, mustering the sleek lines of the small capital vessel that hovered in the distance, close enough to the sun so no sensors could detect it. She could only see it because she knew it was there. This was her sword to wield. It was a tool, made only to fulfill one purpose.
Cargo hold of the Amsel, somewhere in the Sigma Cluster
16/12/824 AS, 07:05 PM
It had been a while that she had been on such a long and quiet trip. She had to admit that she enjoyed the monotonous hum of the engine, the constant blue glow of the crow nebula that also hid her ship perfectly. Although there was another, much more present feeling.
Annika Haupt was worried.
She wasn't afraid, or struggling. She was worried that her plan wouldn't work. As alone as she was currently, she was forced to rethink some parts of the ideas she had pursued in the past few days, and she had to face the fact that many of them were not only outright radical - they were, bluntly put, dangerous. For her, for the people following her, and Rheinland in its entirety. No, she wasn't questioning her decisions, but once again she scolded herself for jumping to action so quickly. She shouldn't have listened to the people on her ship, given in to their hope to finally return. She should have prepared more. Half a year wasn't enough, not even remotely.
Sure, most regular people wouldn't even have noticed that some of the cogs in the machinery she had recently started weren't running as she wanted to - after all, it was just by a few iotas - but despite that, Annika was well aware of the butterfly effect running rampant in this modern day.
As if to emphasize the point, a single piece of wreckage flew past the ship, only visible because it passed between the sun and her point of view. It wasn't possible to discern if it was modern, but she recognized it as a signature part of a Rheinland-made fusion coil. The person flying this ship had been a victim in one of the countless conflicts over these systems, sacrificed in a storm caused by a similar stroke of a butterfly's wings. A somber reminder, but nevertheless one that she had to keep in mind.
She heard the rumbling of a collision the moment she felt it. Something had just had contact with the hull, and it didn't feel like a random piece of debris. Her guest had arrived.
Too late to change anything now. She was a tool, a means to an end. And she would reach that goal, no matter the odds. Determination would be too weak a word to describe her state of mind.
Annika turned around to the person hatch in the hold's back door, still shrouded in perfect, pitch black darkness. Whoever would enter the room wouldn't see her until her pale face was the only thing barely identifiable on the dark backdrop of the room. Her hands were folded behind her back, her slender, toned figure perfectly in shape - even if nobody would be seeing it because of the darkness. She enabled the flash suppressing function in her eyes with a thought, well aware that her contact might have betrayed her, or that the people coming in through the now rumbling hatch were junkers, Hogosha, or worse. But if her plan had worked out, only one person would step out of that hatch, and it would be one of the people that held entire houses trembling.
Just like she did.
'Quiet, you', she mentally scolded her thought process, before returning to her initial calm and collected facial expression. The hatch opened, and the bright lights coming from the docked other ship would have blinded her if not for the flash suppression. With a - mental - smirk she noticed that she had calculated it correctly. The person coming in, and based on the silhouette visible on the lighted backdrop she was certain it was only one - would have to step in a few meters to notice her face hovering in the completely black room. At least this part had worked.
When she was certain that she would be noticed in just a fraction of a second, she opened her mouth, the voice quiet and cold as it had been for months now.
A figure entered, tall with more years on his face than it ought to be. His eyes adapted to the conditions within. The soldier was unmistakable even after couple of years in an universe prone for violent change. Turn of his head resembled that of a marine equipped with helmet-on targetting interface though it was clear it was merely effect of intuition and intricate augmentations well hidden behind face of flesh. It was a sign of well deserved caution as there was no indication what would be inside of the hull. Assault rifle carefully raised, lowered and eventually dropped to dang along his side on thick leather band suspended on his shoulder.
"Good evenin..."
He spoke, walking towards her and circling Haupt towards 90 degrees of her in slow deliberate paced walk. Annika knew that 'Governor', one of her most prized contact and practicioner of the same dark arts as she now mastered on cards of Rheinland's modern history. The 'Governor' was not exactly pleased about loosing an asset like Annika in his own greater scheme of things.
"After dissapearing into the night, you ought to have a reason to contact me again... to risk everything now by bringing me into the equation."
Annika waited until the man had passed her, and then began to pace slowly herself, beginning to rotate with him around an imaginary point on the floor somewhere between them. If anyone had been watching, it would have resembled two predators circling each other, evaluating each other's strength and if it would be worth it to pounce.
Her eyes followed the man, mustered him from head to toe. She knew that people feared him, and that his influence was enough reason to do just that - but at the same time she also knew that fearing him wouldn't get her where she wanted to. With a slight smirk, she offered a response, her quiet tone carrying confidence.
"You have just as much reason to follow my invitation, and you are taking the exact same risk."
She was right about that. Sure, both could have come here with the intention to kill the other, but if they had, they'd have done so already. And confronting the man on equal footing, as she had just done, was a part of the plan.
"How is the family?", she asked, in the same tone, but a little less defensively. The question was intended to take him on the back foot, just as his one had the same intention towards her. She knew that the man had known a different her. He had known Nika, the scared idealist that would back down from such a confrontation and try to make amends, even apologize. The woman that was scared of him.
She was none of those things anymore. And she knew that this change would likely be noticed - and maybe even confuse him.
"Growing slowly. Extending influence there and loosing contacts someplace else." Just like the family lost her after promising yet dangerously daring start. "Sirius is increasingly becoming harder place to raise family, no matter where it is don't you think?" Governor replied, taking into account change of her stance and various other additions to increasingly augmented nature of Haupt - yet to make his mind about non-literal 'death' of the family's old acolyte. With each addition, she seemed to loose some inhibition from the past to the woe of her enemies. Whether developed qualities outweighted the ambitions it was yet to be seen. Governor himself changed not at all.
"Risk is the second nature in our proffession. We have to scan the horizon until the end. Now... you challenged this chance of encounter first, yours is the role to explain dragging me all the way here."
"Especially if you neglect some parts of it." Her voice was still cold, without any change in tone, but the pure and simple statement alone could have been meant as a provocation. Without letting the thoughts linger, however, she fixated her eyes on his. He hadn't changed at all, neither in demeanor, nor in looks. Compared to her, that was a serious accomplishment - but one she could use. If he truly hadn't changed at all, he was still a prisoner of his system of morals and codes, and one of those was loyalty. Loyalty to his subjects, most of all - even if they were presumed dead.
"Nobody dragged you here. You were invited. Something that happens between potential partners, at least so I've been told."She smiled a humorless smile, not even trying to convince an emotion of joy, but rather showing her disinterest in this cat-and-mouse-play - even though she seemed to be quite skilled at it, much more so than a while ago."There was a time where we worked together very closely. From my standpoint, that needn't have changed.Now, finally, her tone shifted slightly. She grew a little quieter, her voice barely more than a whisper. A tone that people among her had learned to fear more than the outbursts of Michael Wolf or the rage of Freya Eistochter. "Then you branded me a traitor."
She stopped the pacing, turning to face the man she was fixating on. Her muscles were tense, she was ready to jump at any opportunity, even though the darkness and the black leather of her catsuit obscured most of that to the other person in the room. She hadn't stopped at random, though - she was standing right between the man and the only lit passage out of the room, back to his ship. He had to face her, and the light in her back would make it hard even for a man of his level of augmentation to identify more than the most basic facial features. "What's interesting about that is that this resulted in a pretty dire consequence for you. You're losing your grip in Riverrun. And nobody is interested in working with you anymore. Sacrificing me on your altar of so-called 'justice' hasn't gotten you anything but grief. And given that we're talking, you didn't even succeed in bringing me down."
His arm was still resting on the rifle, surprisingly relaxed and not planning on using the gun to his advantage, at least not yet. The danger posing from someone of her calibre could be considerate but more than readyness to fight, Annika could read other symptoms: anger... and disdain after she mentioned that any of it could had been motivated by some corrupted sense of justice. She may have some contacts in the family, though until now no direct access to him. Governor's armored legs firmly on the ground and no telling how heavy he in fact could possibly be, made a possible meele attack a gamble at best. He could be fooling her in some underhanded gesture. Ussually he was not taking any chances unless he saw his own presence able to gain something of value.
"On such a large scale, justice does not function as a concept. If you may perhaps noted, traitors typically get sent to whatever gods they acknowledge. Their usefulness had long expired. Your name was high on the list to capture and interrogate. Make of that what you will."
Interrogation could've meant a lot, from something akin an 'innocent' in comparison debriefing to various experimental methods forsaking physical torture for more sophisticated psychological methods borderline with terror and deception in order to achieve information they want to know, rather than what they want to hear. What was meant to her, she may never know now. Nevertheless while he downplayed her, Annika's gambit made him realize what she actually wants. He was yet to be convinced whether she is up to the level she aspires to.
"If you came here to kill me, you are not doing a very good job. Stand down and end the charade."
A few months ago, she would have smiled at this. The way that his reaction was pretty much exactly what she predicted - and therefore what she wanted to achieve - only served to show that the man wasn't as cunning as he probably thought himself to be. Not that she wanted to underestimate his ability to see through her manipulations, but so far, everything had gone more or less exactly as she planned. "You amuse me. Do you seriously believe that I called you here just to kill you? Don't get me wrong, you're certainly an important person, but if I did, the only result would be someone else taking your place. You need to get your ego out of the way, it's obstructing your view on the situation."
She was certain that she had his attention now, so she actually did relax somewhat, even stepping closer slightly - still not close enough for a punch, but the gesture was still there."I'm here to make you an offer." She demonstratively secured her holster, relaxing a little further."We both know that you are here because you are desperate. Or at least I know, you still seem to be in denial. The eye doesn't see everything anymore, and that scares you. You can't let the situation go unsupervised. So in essence..."Again a situation in which she would probably have smirked if she had still been her old self - and yet again she stayed cold and collected, her tone neutral as if holding a lecture."... You need me." She was facing him directly now, her cold stare cutting directly into his eyes. There was no threat in her demeanor - and even though she still stood between him and the exit, she didn't appear as if she would try to stop him from leaving if he wanted to - because she knew that he couldn't afford to now. The chance she was offering was way too valuable for him to just let it pass.
“What an intoxicating naivety, Annika. My sarcasm clearly went over your head this time.” It seemed like his remark had failed to hit the intended mark, more annoying than amusing. “Far from central command, the coven here adapted non-standard tendencies to sacrifice each other towards some sort of personal gain and martyrdom. You are stepping into Witch’s shoes, where even she realized that I am the wrong address to bark at. The antics of threatening violence towards someone you want as an equal and an ally on top of that are not the basics behind hierarchy of the Family.“
Governor ceased before his tirade became too boring, believing he hit on the right note this time. It seems he only understood and received her intention, failing still to acknowledge her desired status. He walked right across to her bypassing the last remaining buffer between the two in total disregard for his own safety.
“You will have to make your case about your independence and value to the family… that your way works. Show me.”
Annika didn't flinch away, nor did she move at all. She just stood there, staring back in his eyes. She even forgot to blink - not that it would have mattered. Her look was expressionless, and she let him stand for a moment, as if she wanted to reaffirm the fact that she was, in fact, not here to hurt him or enact any sort of revenge.
When she spoke again, a spark of her old intonations colored her voice, slightly sarcastic in nature. "It's funny, you know. You of all people asking me of evidence of my worth, after you've come all the way down here to meet me. After you claim to know so much about what the coven did and what it didn't. But fine, I'll indulge you, Admiral. For once."
She gave a mental command, and the holographic projector behind her lit up, right now showing nothing but an eagle motif that was likely unknown to her conversation partner. Her face now obscured with the shadow generated by the hologram lighting her back, she continued. "I'm going to give you a preface. She will have told you otherwise, and I don't think you will believe me - in fact, it's irrelevant if you do - but the Witch was far from the loyal subject she pretended to be. I removed her from her seat of power for a reason. Her petty power struggles with the Colonel were threatening to rip the Revolution apart, and looking at it now, you can probably see what I mean. Still, since you know most things here, I'm going to move on." She replaced the image behind her with another logo - a large, rounded eagle in red, white and green."Looks familiar? That's the HVEB. Or rather, it was. They were the ones that ratted me out. The ones that took out the leadership in the VWA with one move, and left the movement without a head. And now..."The eagle behind her was overlayed by pictures of people that had been part of the movement, part of the treason. One by one, they greyed out."We found them, and we decided they're a tumor on the revolution's already sick carcass. And we excised it. Every single one of those people was a high functionary in Hamburgs bureaucracy. Every single one is now breathing vacuum." Her voice lowered again - she was portraying anger this time, not threat, however - and she turned the projector off, before she leaned back against a crate with crossed arms."You ask why I am useful? Simple. when I 'died', the idea of unity in the Bundschuh did. Look at it before I had to leave, and look at it now. A movement you don't have the slightest idea about, led by powerhungry maniacs with no idea what political ideology is. They're nothing but pawns in a centuries old game. Even if they succeed, their system will fail, and everything will start again."She paused, both for dramatic effect and to take a breath. She had practiced this speech a while ago, and even if it was less politically colored than the one she'd have held in front of the people of the ship, mainly because the Admiral was not an ideologist, it was still no less correct. "I'm useful to the 'family' because I'm the cure. I am not a political pawn, not a slave to an ideology. What this system needs is someone to bring it down, to burn it and leave only ashes. A system so infested by the power struggles between its players can't possibly think to withstand another incursion from beyond. And I don't think that this time we'll have an Edison Trent to save us, Admiral." She stood up again, and extended her hand. "So if you believe that we can be allies in this, in saving humanity, then I offer you my hand. But know this. I will proceed - with, or without you."