"War does not determine who is right - only who is left."
―Bertrand Russell

"I am sorry, Ostermein, but I can not stay on." said Leon Burkhard, former CO at Heckler & Koch.

Ostermein frowned. He was a large man, broad shouldered, with large muscles and a dress uniform on. He

Burkhard had been a primary source of material through Heckler & Koch, the worlds former leading makers of modern battle armaments. In the last few months, however, the Zemka had shut down production to fuel the German army and taken control of the company themselves.

It was unreasonable to ask Leon to stay from the Zemka, but the movement needed ammo and weapons, and this was their only source. Ted sat back in his seat looked around the room. It was fully furnished, in a way that only rich business owner could furnish a house. They were sitting at a table in the dining hall, leaning over it as so the maid at the end of the table would not hear. Across the walls were different heads of beasts he had hunted, and on one wall was a vintage M1871 Mauser Rifle. Ted admired the fine piece of equipment, which still retained its beauty after all these years rotting away mounted on a wall.

His name was an unusual one for a German citizen. It dated back to the offensive against Nazi Germany in World War two. His mother lived on a farm near a river in the Rhineland. Nazi Soldiers were retreating across the River and took the farm house by force. They attempted to rape his mother when a US soldier burst through the door. Upon seeing this gruesome act, he shot each of the Nazi bastards in the head with his M1. His name had been Ted, and so his mother named him the same name. It was also a major factor why he joined the armed forces when he turned eighteen in 1964. He initially joined the heer, or main army, and worked his way up to the rank of Second Lieutenant before retiring to teach at the GSG 9, a police unit designed to combat terrorism. He served from 1982, after 18 years of distinguished service, and taught there until he retired in 1999, at the age of 54. He spent the next two decades much to himself, living in the Rhineland.

Until the civil war, that is.

These Zemka bastards expected everyone to roll over like nice little guys and let them take over. Most did, at least. As did most of the humans in favor of Zemka slavery. They learned that veterans weren't easy people to change the minds of when they got an old shotgun pellet in the face while looking for refuge in the night.

The government housed him, until they lost power. The Zemka threw him in jail, but Sergeant Tomic and his boys soon changed that. They put him in charge, to his misfortune, and he'd led them ever since.

Buckhard had been a supplier of the resistance from the start, but with the Zemka takeover, it was to dangerous for him to take the change of stealing weapons from the program.

"I understand, Heirr Buckhard, we can't and won't let you take that chance. Its probably best if our friendship dissolves, for your stake. If you will allow, I'll take my leave." He gestured for his guard to follow, when suddenly an explosive force blew the wall from behind him.

When Ostermein regained consciousness, he saw a hugely deformed room. A Zemka and two armed guards were standing in the middle of the room, the former holding Leon by his throat.

"You have committed the crime of treason. The punishment is death."

"When it comes to you guys, when is it not?"

The Zemka without the helmet threw him against the far wall. Ostermein took the opportunity to reach into his jacket and pull out his old Walther P1 and lined his sights on the crest of the Rhino like creature's face.

The 9 mm bullet passed there his skull, but, oddly, never came out. The Zemka dropped dead right there, and the two human armed guards turned to look at the new threat. One, quicker than his counterpart, brought his laser rifle up to bear, with a clear line of fire on Ostermein's head, and....

Was taken down by a 11 mm bullet to the back of his head. Ted readjusted his aim before thinking of what had just happened, and shot the second soldier in the chest. The guard let loose a volley of laser bolts, one hitting Ostermein in the arm with a firey impact.

"Shiza!" he yelped, grabbing his arm. He'd been shot in combat before,but a laser seemed to have more of the feeling of torture than clean and neat bullets did. Buckhard rushed over to him, his old Mauser Rifle in hand. "You keep ammo in that thing?"

"Why wouldn't I? That would be a waist of a good rifle, would it not?" He smiled, and Ostermein began to laugh. "Yeah, you've got a nasty burn there. Gonna leave a hell of a scar." Ostermein pushed him aside gently and rose to his feet. "Where's....."

"Otto is dead, Ostermein." he looked down on the yound recruits face, and saw only a burned heap of rags. He pulled his service tag off his body. "We need to go. Now. We'll bring you to the save houses."

"Do I have a choice."

Ted smiled at that. "That or a body bag, if the almighty alien assholes are lenient."

"I'll go with the safe house, I think."

Stephan Heuss and Hermann Otto sat in the barracks, dismantling there weapons and laughing over old stories.

The two had been friends since grade school. Otto was a year older than Stephan, and had been born in 1991, while Stephan had been born in '92. Their friendship had been one that had lasted all the way through the highest grades. When Otto graduated, he'd gone into the the police forces. Throughout Stephan's final year, their friendship was still strong, even with Otto's new job. When Stephan had decided to join the weer, or german military, it stressed the relationship a little, but not by much. Within two years Otto joined GSG 9, a counter terrorism unit in Germany, which filled the gap left between the men.

It wasn't until the civil war that the relationship became hard. When the rebels took Berlin, Otto says, he was put under house arrest, with no contact to the outside war. It was like this for two years, Stephan in combat with the Rebels.

Otto told him that he managed to break out as Zemka forces took over. He joined up with the resistance immediately, and the two had been with the rebel group since its early days. Now, the two men shared stories and jokes while dismantling they're rifles, Stephan the Heckler & Koch G36, Otto his G22.

"So, we're loaded up in the van, and this new guy, Adele Hayman, is sweating like a greased pig. I look over at him, ans start to ask if he's up too this new job, but the car explodes."

"RPG?" Stephan asks.

"Ya, man on the roof of the building above. I wake up and get my rifle, when I see Hayman, sitting there in shock."

"Was he hurt?"

"Nein, it looked like he was fine. I move over too him, crouched down to be sure there are no snipers. When I get over there, I realize what had happened."

"Was he in shock?"

"Nein, the dumb bastard shit himself!" The two back to laugh uncontrollably. When they managed to get themselves under control, Otto leaned back, a sad smile on his face. "He got better as time went by. He was a good kid."

"What happened to him?"

Otto stirred in his seat. "He was killed by a Zemka soldier in the siege of Berlin for protected a mother and her child."

"Brave boy." Stephan said, snapping the stock back on his rifle.

"Stupid boy, Stephan! If he had watched his ass instead of resisting the Zemka, he'd be alive today!" Otto snapped.

"What the hell are you talking about? He saved the lives of innocents. And your sounding like a sympathizer, Otto."

Otto seemed to collect himself, then sighed. "I just have seen to many men die for sticking up for things not crucial to resisting the Zemka, Stephan."

"Yes, I know." The two sat in silence for a few minutes, looking over their kit, when Otto's cell phone rang.

"I'm sorry, Stephan I must go. I will see you at dinner, ya?"

"Ya. See you then, Otto."

Stephan looked at his kit set out in front of him. That had been a bit weird, hadn't it? Why did Otto get so upset about a man dying protecting people against the Zemka.

Stephan shrugged it off, thinking it was sadness because of all the men hat not only Otto, but almost every man in the fatherland shared for the dead from the Rebellion and Zemka occupation.

With that, Stephan packed his kit bag and put it in his locker, heading back to his apartment for the day.