The East PacificBoard

Oskar Eroberer smiles with pride as he strides down the streets of Ruhmstadt. The city had embraced him fully, as people waved in his direction, came up to him to thank him, and to talk to his new best friend, who walked along with him. Axel was the Ostarian Shepherd he had stumbled over in Teichersberg, and ever since Oskar took him in, he had been as loyal as a man could wish for, always by his side, always on alert. Oskar treated Axel much better than he did almost any human, that was for sure. Oskar, holding Axel’s leash, walks with the dog right down Repulikan street just before he gets to the Capitol building. He kneels down beside Axel. “Look there Boy,” he says, pointing to the Capitol, “in there, is all the sons o’ b*tches we gotta get rid of. They’re the one’s that kicked you out on the streets, they’re the ones that kicked me out on the streets, and they’re the ones that kicked so many more on the streets.” He ruffles Axel’s head and starts walking again this time towards the Honor Party office.

Whistling an old tune from his days in the army, he walks down, smiling upon seeing Honorite banners fluttering from every corner and from any visible flag poles, as well as seeing many of the posters they had put up, calling for Honor and the end of socialist rule.

After letting a few women dawdle over Axel, he finally gets to the Party office and pushes the door open. The secretary, a local blonde woman about two years younger than Oskar looks up from her desk and smiles at him. "Hello, Oskar. I see you've brought your friend.” Oskar looks down at Axel, then back at the secretary. “Yeah, Karla, seems I have. Would you mind looking after him for me? I need to go to a...meeting.” He had stopped himself from cussing there, he didn’t like doing it in front of Karla, and she was Honorite to the core, and so, like Axel, he treated her a lot better than he did anyone else.

Karla smiles again. “Sure. Have you still not rented a place yet?”

“Nope, as much as I travel.” He takes off Axel’s leash and hands it over to Karla, leaving Axel to roam around. “Thanks so much, you’re the most helpful out of anyone, and that includes the boys in my old squad.” Karla smiles even wider at that, as Oskar walks out the door, whistling once again.

He smells the humid and hot air of the ever muggy Ruhmstadt, and smiles. Not only were things actually making him happy again, he had his prey right where he wanted it, and today would be the day he would finally bite his teeth down. He starts walking to the Ruhmstadt Schooner, the Honor Party’s birth place, and where he would hold a very important meeting. Striding down the sidewalk in the good old fashioned Honorite garb, he continues whistling and gets a few cheers from some Honor Guard fella’s who pass by, carrying with them a few socialist posters they had torn away. Oskar nods at them, then turns around the corner and pushes the door in to the Ruhmstadt Schooner.

The bartender, upon seeing him, gestures towards him. “Hey everybody, it’s Oskar!” Everyone in the beer holds up their glass and let’s out a cheer. Oskar pulls out a few billion’s worth of banknotes. “Shot’s on me,” he says. Setting the money down, the bartender pulls out a few bottles to pour for everyone inside, while handing a small glass of whiskey to Oskar. “Fella over there in the back wants to see you.”

“Thanks,” Oskar says, walking over to one of the back corners. Sitting at one of the tables is a man, a scar running down the left side of his face, and also wearing typical Honorite garb, but a military emblem on his undershirt. Oskar sits down. “Happy we could arrange this,” Oskar says. The scarred man nods, “So am I, as you know, I am Hermann Stahlecker, leader of the Wehrwolves.”

“Yes I am aware. So you wanted to discuss, perhaps a jointly mounted op against the reds?”

Stahlecker smirks, “damn you and your shrewdness,” he says. “Yes, I do, I also want to discuss the possibility of an endorsement from the Wehrwolves.”

“That’ll be good. First off, the operation. Where do you believe it should be held?”

“Ebfurt, socialist stronghold along the Mötz, but they’re being pushed back west everyday, and their own supporters are trying to throw them out now after that stint down near the Gruthenic mines became public. To finish them off, I suggest that the Wehrwolves move to the northwest end of the city and you move some of your guys to the southwest end, encircling the city with Honorite supporters and maybe we can force them to even disband their party chapter.”

“What rank were you in the army?”

“Captain.”

“Bullsh*t,” Oskar exclaims, “you strategize like a damn General.”

“I take insult to that.” Both men felt a sense of scorn for the generals who allowed the stalemate to go on in Easario. “Alright, that’s fair, better then a General. Sounds like one hell of a plan. I’ll call my guy down there and let him know, he’ll fill the rest in. Now, what about that endorsement?” Stahlecker nods. “I want to see it that you include more funds to the VA. With as many veterans as there are, they really need help, and they make up most of my boys.”

“I’m a vet myself. If I’m gonna help anyone it’s gonna be them. Anything else?”

“Yes, just one more thing, the wolves want a say in the trials of the General Staff.”

“I can do that aswell, lord knows we all want revenge.” Oskar extends his hand towards Stahlecker, the scarred veteran accepting it and shaking firmly. “We have a deal, I’ll issue the endorsement later today.”

“Thank you, you’re helping us fight the good fight.” The two men stand up and both salute, but in the army fashion rather than the party fashion. The two then walk off and outwards.

———————————————

Johann Speidel stares at the television and grunts. The little Ruhmstadt Hotel he was staying in had a TV that of course had no local news channel, and so he was forced to watch Honor News Network. The propaganda the party had on was, however, bringing some bad news. As if out of a military textbook, Honorites and Wehrwolves had snuck around the backs of the SDP side of Ebfurt and, with police, had arrested many of the local party leaders for “civil disobedience,” which was a fine bit of bullsh*t. But no one beyond socialists could see that. The nation was on a steep dive right into authoritarianism and terror.

That was why Johann was in Ruhmstadt.

When it came down to it, it wasn’t really the worker or socialist theory that had made him come to his decision. It was love of country and liberty, and the fear that they would go away. He was going to confront his former friend, Oskar Eroberer, and somehow someway, he would end the Honor Party.

For now though, he had to find something to eat. Finding a cafe or a restaurant that wasn’t full of Honorites was impossible, as finding anywhere in Ruhmstadt that wasn’t full of Honorites was. Grabbing his key, a wad of billion kroner banknotes, and a combat knife he could fit in his pocket, he heads out of the motel room and out onto the streets of Ruhmstadt.

Stepping out and seeing the state of the Capitol made him sigh. Chancellor elections were only a few days away, yet not a single socialist poster was visible. Only the Honor Party was allowed in this town. Grumbling, he starts walking around, rather aimlessly, seeing if he can’t find somewhere to eat.

Finally, he finds a steakhouse on a corner, it was a quarter till 6, so it wasn’t quite full yet. He walks in, and the hostess at the front slams her right arm into her chest and shouts “Honor!” Johann just asks for a table for of one, not bothering to even pretend to be a full supporter of the party. She takes him to a small table in the corner and hands him a menu. “I’ll just have the special,” he says, the waitress obliges and heads back. He sits quietly, pondering as to how he would confront Oskar.

After about 15 minutes, she brings grilled chicken and tomato soup. He asks her for a beer, and she goes back again. He spends the next few minutes tearing at the chicken, even if it was chewy and a bit over cooked, and the tomato soup tasted funny. The beer helped.

Finally full, and it finally getting dark, he waves over the waitress, and asks for a check. She hands him one and he slaps down 35 billion kroner, then heads out, into the dark streets of Ruhmstadt. He passes along a few streets before finding Albert von Eckers Park, a nice spot between the Capitol building, the Ruhmstadt Schooner, and the Honor Party Office. He sits down right on one of the benches and waits.

———————————————

Oskar Eroberer stands up from his desk and stretches, bellowing out a loud yawn that causes Karla to look back into his office. He chuckles a little, she was startled easily. Oskar looks down at his watch, it was nearing 7:30 and he knew he’d be at the office longer. More paperwork had to be done and some speeches needed to be written, some of the duties he had as Honor Party chairman. He walks out of his office and into the front, Axel laying down beside Karla. He pets Axel and looks up at Karla. “I bet I’m gonna be here for a few more hours if you want to leave.”

“No,” she says defiantly, “I’m staying, I’m sure you’d go insane if you had no one to talk to.”

Oskar sighs. She was certainly loyal. “Alright, fine. I’m gonna walk over to the Schooner and grab something to eat, need some fresh air. You want anything?”

“No thanks, I ate an hour ago, although I’ll look after Axel for you.”

“Thank you kindly,” he says, tossing a smile in her direction before walking out the door. This late, Ruhmstadt was more or less empty, as most cities were nowadays. Not a whole lot of business thanks to the damn fools in the Government. Walking along the empty streets, he starts to turn the corner near Albert von Eckers Park to the Ruhmstadt Schooner before he sees a lone figure sitting out on one of the park benches, twiddling his thumbs. Though the figure is far away, he looks familiar, so Oskar walks over to investigate. He gets closer, and the figure does not move. Oskar finally steps near the bench and feels his jaw drop.

“Speidel?”

“Eroberer?”

The figure was Johann Speidel, one of Oskar’s old squad mates and one of his closest friends. “Hellfire, Johann. What’s it been like...5 years since I last seen you.” Johann stands up. “Yeah, that’s how long I’m pretty sure.”

“What’re you in town for,” Oskar asks.

“I need to talk to you.”

“‘Bout what?”

“The Honor Party.”

“Want to join?”

“No, the opposite.” Oskar raises a questioning eyebrow. “Are you still a damn socialist?”

“I am and I’m not ashamed of it. I came hear to talk to you about possibly stepping down from the Honor party.” Oskar, stares at Johann for a moment before chuckling, a hefty, avalanche of a chuckle. Oskar was actually happy to see Johann at first, but he was still the naive red he was back in the army. “Hell no, pa didn’t raise no quitter.”

“Look, Oskar, I don’t care about your pa, or your need to get revenge on people, or whatever the hell. I care about the country, same as you do. And your party has caused way too much violence, and has caused the government to nearly fall apart. You have to step down if you love your country.”

Now, Oskar was fuming. This asshole had the gall to demand he step down? No, Oskar didn’t think so. “Just shove it and get the hell outta Ruhmstadt,” he demands. Johann, looking sorrowful, sighs, and starts to walk away, Oskar starts to walk opposite towards the Schooner but immediately hears running from behind him and twists to the side. Johann runs past with a knife in his hands. “The ever living f*ck are you doing, Johann?!”

“Saving this country!” He lunges towards Oskar again, Oskar ducks and catches his arm and shoves him out on the street. “Step the f*ck away, man. I ain’t looking for a fight.”

“And I didn’t want to see my homeland destroyed by your damn goons” Johann runs up and kicks Oskar in the shin, causing him to tumble over. Johann then plunges with the knife downwards to try and stab Oskar in the chest, but Oskar catches his hands and holds them back.

But Johann keeps pushing, the tip of the knife getting closer to Oskar’s chest, the grunts of both men filling the air as they struggle. Johann nearly stabs Oskar before Oskar takes his left leg and knees up, causing Johann to fall over and lose the knife.

Seeing the knife between them, the two men both reach for it while still laying on the ground. Oskar forms his hand into a fist and bashes Johann’s vulnerable fingers, causing him to recoil in pain, allowing Oskar to grab the knife. Both men stand up, and without a second thought, an angered Oskar steps forward and slashes the knife from left to right.

Both men gape in horror at Johann’s belly, which was now blood red from the cut. Johann, speechless, now tries to keep his guts in his stomach, as they start to spill out. He topples down onto the stained red grass of the park and tries to utter something, only to choke on his own blood.

All the while, Oskar watches in a mix of anger and horror at the man who had just tried to kill him. The man who was a loyal and steadfast soldier under his command. The man who had been his friend. Oskar lets out a scream, a hoarse scream of fury. But all the fury in the world couldn’t hide the tears on Oskar’s face.