A Reason to Fight

“The name’s Mayu,” the black-haired girl said. “And you’re the new lieutenant, Wilhelm Frei? I’ve… we’ve all heard a lot about you.”

Wilhelm smiled and offered a handshake. “All good, I hope?” 

Mayu took it, but her face remained expressionless. “...Not quite. From what I hear, you act like a maniac on the battlefield. You leave your squadmates in the dust. Is that all true?”

“...I only did it once, you know.”

“Once is too many times.”

The captain’s brows furrowed. “Mayu, didn’t I say to do this later?”

“No, it’s fine, captain,” Wilhelm said. “Look, I’ve not always been the best officer. I’ll own that. Instead, I threw my own body on the line, trying to handle everything in the field by myself. But there’s no room for that, not anymore. We’re knocking on the door to New Moscow. And the Soviets? They’re not gonna hold a welcome party. Everything they’ve got, they’ll throw at us.”

Wilhelm paused, but Mayu had no interjection to make.

“So none of us can screw around, not anymore. I’ll be at every drill so that we’re all ready for the coming battle. I’ll hand out every order and make sure we’re all on the same page. And when things get rough, I’ll back you up and fight until we're the ones on top.”

Wilhelm brought out a small notepad. “That’s it for me, so let’s do introductions.”

Mayu raised her eyebrow. “But... we already did?”

“Yeah, but everyone, I mean. I’m not the best with names, so I brought this. You, what’s your name?” Wilhelm pointed to a man on the left.

“K-Kane, sir!”

“Kane, got it.” Alright, short… scraggly beard… busted glasses… “And you?”

“Amelia, sir!”

“Alright, that’s in.” Red hair… freckles… “Ah, let me add a note for you, Mayu.” She adopted a disaffected gaze, but as Wilhelm wrote more and more, Mayu walked closer to the book.

“...Can I see it, sir?”

Wilhelm lifted it away and smiled. “Nope, my eyes only.”

“But that’s… You wrote way too much to keep it to yourself!”

“Too much? I’m not done yet, though. There’s a lot to say.”

Finally, Mayu’s expression changed. It was almost… a pout? Wilhelm laughed, gave in, and showed the scribbles: a poor attempt at drawing her face. Her face turned sour, but Wilhelm paid it no mind, hastening to give orders for the coming drill. Break the ice, check.

____________________________________________________________________________

The drill went well, to Wilhelm’s surprise. He pointed out notes of improvement, with the captain’s occasional assistance, and although Mayu sometimes disputed them (at times, successfully), he left the training drills more confident in the squad's capability. Florent had trained them well, despite everything. At the very least, Wilhelm could thank him for that.

After he left the tarmac, he heard a ring from his pocket. He picked up the phone.

“Hey, Rudolf. What’s up?”

“Not much. Say, are you busy tonight?”

“No plans. Why?”

“I wanted to ask you some questions about Levin. How to handle them, what their habits are, things like that. And I’ve heard that downtown Minsk has a good restaurant with German cuisine. Figured you’d appreciate it, too. Want to meet me there at around twenty hundred?”

Military time, so… 8?  “Sounds good to me, if it’s on your dime.”

Rudolf’s coarse laugh echoed over the phone. “Fine by me. One thing: it’s a nice place, so don’t come in your uniform.” Then, he hung up.

To no one in particular, Wilhelm said, “Of course I wasn’t gonna…” Well, maybe.

____________________________________________________________________________

After Wilhelm had picked out a reasonably acceptable outfit, he looked himself over in the mirror. He had worn the same outfit at his graduation: a white shirt, black pants, and a dark blue blazer. Nothing special, but in his estimation, it didn’t need to be. 

Wilfhelm left early, unwilling to deal with Rudolf’s wrath if he were late. He made it to the restaurant Rudolf had sent to him, called “Siegesbankett”, in record time. From the outside, he couldn’t get a read on the place. Dark black walls blocked out any voyeur, with opaque windows that only revealed anything from the inside. A lone hostess stood in front, with finer clothes than Wilhelm had ever seen in his life. First, she spoke in a language he didn’t understand: Russian. When Wilhelm showed his confusion, she quickly switched to English.

“Your reservation, sir?”

“Oh, uh… Should be under Wilder. Rudolf Wilder.”

“...Right this way, sir.” She betrayed no sign of bias against Federation forces as she guided Wilhelm up the stairs. If anything, she seemed rather chipper.

As they walked, Wilhelm took in the atmosphere. The darkness extended to the interior: dimly lit, dark purple walls, and black marble floors. It was no wonder, then, that Wilhelm nearly didn’t see Rudolf when the hostess directed Wilhelm to their table. 

Nearby customers, however, took great notice of Wilhelm’s companion. His black shirt, not fully buttoned, showed a glimpse of his broad chest: something he seemed happy to show at any moment, to Wilhelm’s chagrin. His dark purple blazer, adorned with a light gold trim, shined faintly in the dark room. Women and men both looked over in awe. Damn showoff.

“Ah, Wilhelm. Glad you made it.” Wilhelm sat across from him, giving Rudolf a funny look. 

“What’s the matter?”

“You sure this isn’t a date? You’re dressed real nice.”

Rudolf nearly blushed, a sight Wilhelm never expected to see. “No, no. I just don’t get an excuse often to dress like this, you know? That’s all.”

“Mhm.”

“Knock it off, Wilhelm... I'm serious. Anyway, let’s order first before we handle our business.”

Wilhelm’s eyes nearly bulged out of his skull when he saw the price points on the menu. He ordered one of the cheaper meals available, declined to drink any alcohol, and had Rudolf laugh at him for holding back. As they waited for their dinner, Wilhelm spoke a bit about his old friend, but truthfully, Wilhelm had little to say about Levin that he found particularly interesting. Still, Rudolf seemed satisfied with the mundane details.

“You sure that’s enough to justify this?” Wilhelm asked. “We could’ve just talked over the phone, and you could've saved yourself some money.”

Rudolf looked at Wilhelm strangely. “Come on, we make enough. It's of no consequence to me. Besides, I wanted to commemorate our partnership… which is coming to an end, now.”

Rudolf stirred his glass of champagne, mulling over its flowing waves. Wilhelm hadn’t noticed earlier how dark his eyes looked. Something else was on his mind.

“Be honest. What’s going on?” Wilhelm asked.

“I… I’ve been thinking recently, about our duties as Cyberitters. And each time we’ve conquered the Republic’s territory, I’ve thought about it a little more."

“I just… What are we fighting for, anymore? I wanted to defend Germany, our people. Our friends. And yes, to avenge Berlin. But we’ve done that, Wilhelm, and then some. We keep making a larger and larger buffer zone, seizing Republic land like it's nothing. We’re invaders.”

“Yeah, that’s our job. The captain was clear on that from the start.”

“Yes, he was, but it rings differently when the gun’s in your hands, when you’re the one killing… Don’t get me wrong. Being a soldier, that’s what you are. A killer. For the right cause, I could accept that, but… I don’t know. Have you seen the recent reports on the death toll so far?”

A hundred thousand dead, half of them civilians. “Yeah, I have.”

“It’s not right. I don’t know what the rest of our allies are doing, away from us, but there’s no reason for that… It’s unjust. And New Moscow will be a bloodier battle than any of the ones that we’ve seen so far. I just… It’s getting harder and harder to close my eyes, Wilhelm.”

“Then why not defect, like Florent?” Wilhelm asked what Rudolf was thinking.

“I’d never!” Rudolf slammed his fist onto the table. Ongoers looked away, and he pulled it back sheepishly. “...I’d never work against Germany, no matter what. And my family would be the ones to suffer for any selfish whim, like that.” Rudolf looked out the window, in thought.

“You’re right,” Wilhelm said. “If you were an average soldier, well, whatever. But we’re too high in the military chain for mercy. You saw the manhunt they’re doing for Florent.”

“That’s the truth of it,” Rudolf said. Then, he sighed. “I hope New Moscow really is the end of it… Of everything. Pushing further east would be hell… I hope the top brass see that.”

“Weapons exist to be used,” Wilhelm said. “And that’s all we are to them: weapons.” Not that it matters, to me. It’s thanks to that that I’ve got any chance to kill the Red Reaper, at all.

“...I guess so,” Rudolf said. “Then let’s hope they point us anywhere but east.”

"I'll drink to that," Wilhelm said, lifting a glass of water.