Work Text:
The planet around the Canopus star was humanity's first successful attempt at terraforming. From orbit, it didn't look like much – bare rocks relentlessly hammered by sun and wind – but as they approached the surface, deep green trenches became visible between the cliffs on the northern continent. This planet was once home to hundreds of millions, and billions more passed through this starzone on the journey between Earth and other planets. Now, it was just another waypoint for Terraist pilgrims.
The person Lohengramm wanted to see lived at the bottom of an isolated valley with a black sand beach on one end, and steep cliffs on each side. The only way in was a twisted one-lane road, cut into the edge of the cliff. Lohengramm's entourage left at dawn, with just a single jeep and a few men on motorcycles to scout the road ahead.
The driver of the jeep was Cornelius Lutz. He also led the fleet that accompanied Lohengramm to Canopus. He was wearing the seldom-seen tropical weight variation of the Imperial military uniform, and his violet eyes anxiously scanned the road ahead. Sitting next to him was Konrad von Moder, Lohengramm's young valet.
Lohengramm sat alone in the back seat, wearing his full weight uniform, including the long white cape. The sun had barely risen, but it was already swelteringly hot and humid. Lohengramm did not show any sign of discomfort, other than a few beads of sweat on his delicate upper lip. As always, he wore a sleek white mask over his forehead and the upper part of his face, with dark tinted glass covering his eyes. As the jeep turned the narrow switchbacks, he occasionally put his hand on the locket around his neck.
They stopped in front of a tall chicken wire fence with barbed wire twisted over the top. The scouts had gotten off their motorcycles, and were about to cut through the fence with heat scissors.
"Make them stop that, immediately," Lohengramm snapped as soon as he saw them. He grasped his locket tightly as he spoke. "This is a friendly visit, not a raid!" Lutz got out of the car to talk to his men, while Konrad helped Lohengramm step down from the car.
Lutz looked around, then checked his phone. "Your Highness, we've arrived at the location that Commodore Ferner told us about, but I can't see the house from here."
"We'll walk the rest of the way. Lutz, you can come with me. The rest of you, stay here with the car."
"Your Excellency…"
"This is a matter pertinent for ranks of Admiral and above only," said Lohengramm. As always, he placed his hand on the locket as he spoke. Resigned, Lutz opened the narrow gate, which was marked with two signs: "No Trespassing" and "Beware of Dog."
As they walked through the thick rainforest, Lutz glanced back at Lohengramm. He's changed so much since the incident at Geiersberg, he thought. The old Reinhard von Lohengramm seemed to have unlimited energy, and was harsh in his feelings and judgments. Now, he was more diplomatic and reserved. He spoke less and listened more. But woe be to anyone who mistakes that for weakness, Lutz shuddered. He's just as merciless as ever. Perhaps even more so.
Finally, the small house came into view, although it would be quite generous to call it a house. It was really just a one-room wooden shack, raised on concrete blocks, with a tin roof. It was oriented toward the beach, with large sliding doors on each end to allow the ocean breezes through. There were a few outbuildings – a kitchen, a latrine – and a coop for the chickens that were roaming about the yard.
As Lohengramm and Lutz approached the house, a dalmatian appeared in the doorway and started barking at the uninvited visitors. An older man with shaggy gray hair and beard stepped out from the shadows and placed a hand on the dog's head. He dressed in the typical – that is to say, informal – style of Canopus: Bermuda shorts (where that term came from, Lutz had no idea) and a faded pink camp collar shirt. His long toes curled over the edge of the doorframe; the people of Canopus never wore shoes inside their homes.
"Didn't you see the signs?" He spoke in a gruff voice with a slight lisp.
Lohengramm took a step forward, undeterred. "We are here to speak to Admiral Paul von Oberstein."
"Retired Admiral," the man replied, coolly.
Lutz's violet eyes widened in disbelief as he tried to reconcile the appearance of the man standing before him with his memory of the former chief-of-staff. Oberstein had never been a handsome man, and catching a rocket with his face had done nothing to improve his appearance. His nose had become slightly crooked, and the beard only partially obscured the fact that one side of his mouth was drooping. But the most notable change was his eyes. On the left side, he used a cybernetic implant, just as he did before the incident. But on the right side, the eye was missing entirely, with only mottled skin stretched over the eye socket.
Oberstein turned his eye toward Lohengramm. "Your Excellency. Or should I now say Your Highness?" Then, looking at Lutz: "I see you brought one of your dogs as well."
Lutz clenched his jaw. He moved to approach Oberstein, but Lohengramm motioned for him to stay back with a wave of his hand and a flutter of his elegant white cape. Under the mask, his mouth twisted in a tight smile.
"Go back to the car and wait for me there."
"Your Excellency!"
"Don't forget your place," Lohengramm replied sharply. He clenched the locket tightly to raise his voice. Lutz saluted and left.
There was silence for several moments, then finally Oberstein spoke: "Commodore Ferner has been sending me news of your various triumphs. It seems Your Excellency has managed quite well without my services."
"I could always use more talented advisors," Lohengramm said, still maintaining his slight smile. "I don't recall giving you permission to retire."
Oberstein's eye flashed. "I was dismissed by your deputy commander-in-chief, Siegfried Kircheis. He rewarded me with a one rank promotion for saving your life. I was then informed that it would become a two rank promotion if I ever went within five thousand light years of Odin." There was a hint of reproachfulness in his voice. "Ferner already informed me that Kircheis recently quit your service after hearing how you dealt with the Lichtenlade clan. You wouldn't travel three weeks to see me if Kircheis were still by your side."
"Siegfried Kircheis is dead."
Oberstein – usually imperturbable – drew in his breath with surprise. Not at the news itself, but at how Lohengramm said these words simply, without any perceptible sign of emotion. He opened his mouth, which revealed that he had lost most of his teeth in the attack – but no sound came out. After a few seconds, he closed his eye, took a deep breath, then returned to his regular demeanor.
"Come inside."
Lohengramm walked up the wooden steps, removed his shoes, and walked across the threshold.
Oberstein's home was ascetic in the extreme, with no decorations and hardly any objects of comfort. The furniture was a raised bed (immediately claimed by the dog), a rustic table with a single chair, a narrow console which held a basin and a large pitcher of water (presumably from the well outside), and a few shelves for his belongings. The only items for entertainment were a handful of books, and a small battery-operated television balanced on top of a suitcase in the corner. It was hardly a setting appropriate for a Fleet Admiral or a Prime Minister, but Lohengramm seemed not to mind.
"You know," he said, turning toward Oberstein, "I have a cabin like this. In the Freuden Berge. Of course, it isn't nearly as austere," he said, with a smile. "But I appreciate having my own place to get away and clear my head occasionally."
Standing next to each other in such a small space, Oberstein could see through the tinted lenses of the mask, into Lohengramm's eyes. He had been too uncomfortable to ask Ferner the question he was most curious about — did Lohengramm lose his eyes in the attack at Geiersberg? Is that what was hidden under the mask? But up close, he could see that Lohengramm's eyes were still real. And yet… there definitely seemed to be something different about him. Had Lohengramm's lips always looked so pink? Had his hands always been so slender?
Lohengramm stepped towards the bed, and gave the dog scratches on its head and belly. But he lifted his hand to touch his locket again when he spoke: "What's the dog's name?"
"Friedrich."
Lohengramm snorted, then burst out laughing, and it was definitely not Reinhard von Lohengramm's laugh.
"Oberstein, you are incorrigible. Who else could hate the Goldenbaum Dynasty with such vehemence as you do? Who else but you would be best suited for stamping out the remnants of the high nobility?" He blinked his eyes, clearing away tears of laughter that welled up under his mask.
Then Lohengramm opened his eyes. Oberstein was pointing a blaster directly at his chest. Lohengramm stopped laughing.
With his other hand, Oberstein reached out and grabbed Lohengramm's locket. It didn't take much strength to break the delicate chain. As he suspected, the controller for a voice transformer was hidden on the back.
The two stared at each other, equally indifferent in their expressions, despite the tension in the situation.
"Who are you, and what have you done to His Excellency Reinhard von Lohengramm?"
Lohengramm looked up at Oberstein, and then removed the mask.