War hero

[Major Harkonnen]

The charring son of Omega-11 lit the silver wings of a burning Sabre fighter. The ship was full of holes, the engines of the vessel were emitting flames. Miraculously, the cockpit was intact, but the pilot within was severely injured. The flames were engulfing an iron cross emblem on the wings, they were slowly tearing away the grey paint and the hull under it. One could make out "Valkyrie Freikorps" written on the wing before it melted away.

Though it was clearly not a military ship, the fighter was piloted by one extremely Rheinlandish-looking soldier. His face was literally as square as a brick, his eyebrows reflected cruel apathy and most remarkably, he was dressed in a Rheinwehr Major's parade uniform, despite clearly not being either part of the Force, or on a military parade.

But that is how former Major Einar Harkonnen preferred to live. Fancy uniforms, medals, discipline, love for the
Vaterland. He was now wondering how he screwed up so much.

The legendary raging nationalist of the Hauptflotte was now lightyears away from his beloved Berlin, dismissed from the force, dismissed from the Nationalistische Partei Rheinland, having to resort to mercenary work along with a rag-tag force of ex-military and worst of all, shot up by a Hessian elite patrol. The enthusiastic patriot burned out, this time literally.

"Where.... where did I screw up? All I ever did was fight for the Vaterland yet.... I will die an exile's death. An exile, abandoned by the Vaterland he vowed to serve forever."

As usual, he tried to find some external circumstance to explain his failure to himself as his life flashed before his eyes.

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Bis der Letzte von uns allen frei wird oder stirbt im Eid...