Judgement

[Toaster]

Richter dropped down from the Sleipnir’s cockpit unto the hard steel floor of the hangar bay. He stared blankly ahead, his hands still trembling. The image of the evaporating escape pod was burned into his mind.

He was an enemy. But… they were countrymen, too. Up until recently, they had all been comrades in the same military. Now they were just on separate sides of a political conflict. A silly, meaningless conflict that should not cost anyone their lives. They shouldn’t be killing each other. Not over that.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Steiner, Mannscheidt, and Freist heading out of the bay into a corridor towards the crew quarters. Richter started after them.

“Steiner!” he called out as he caught up to him. He reached out and grabbed the man’s arm, yanking him around. Steiner spun on him, anger plain on his face. The other two stopped in their tracks and looked on.

“Why did you kill him?” Richter pleaded, his voice shaky. He stared up into the eyes of his wing leader, confused. “He wasn’t a threat! He was in a pod!”

Steiner grabbed him by the shoulders and flung him into the corridor’s wall, pinning him there. His face was mere inches from Richter’s, red with rage.

“Watch it,” he spat. Richter stared at him, frightened. He swallowed hard.

“You murdered him,” he said faintly. He glanced past Steiner at his fellow wingmen. They awkwardly looked away, avoiding his gaze. Looking back at the wing leader, he continued, “You murdered him in cold blood!”

Steiner’s grip on Richter’s shoulders tightened. The man paused and took a deep breath.

“They’re traitors,” he finally snarled. He leaned in closer, speaking right into Richter’s ear. “They all deserve it.” He violently shoved Richter into the wall again and then released him, turning back, and continuing down the corridor. Mannscheidt and Freist fell in behind him.

* * *

“What’s on your mind?” the young woman on the vidscreen asked. In her arms she cradled an infant, slowly swaying the boy back and forth.

Richter sat at his quarter’s terminal, head in his hands. The blue light of the screen was all that illuminated the cramped room.

“Andreas?” the woman asked. Richter glanced up, lowering his hands into his lap. He tiredly leaned forward and gave her a weak smile.

“Sorry, Marie. It’s nothing.”

The woman cocked her head to the side, narrowing her eyes.

“You know I could always tell when you were lying.”

Richter sighed. Of course she could. Siblings always could. He carefully mulled it over in his mind, how much he could tell her about what was going on. What had happened.

“This war,” he finally started. “It shouldn’t be happening.” He looked at her and her son. So peaceful. So blissfully detached from the horrors that were happening right here in their homeland. He swallowed hard and blinked away the tears that were forming in his eyes.

Marie moved closer to the screen, smiling sympathetically.

“Hey, Brüderlein. It’ll be alright. This will all be over soon,” she said slowly, soothingly. “And then everything’ll be back to normal.” She glanced down at her baby boy, a smile widening on her face. The child reached one chubby little arm out towards her and touched her cheek. Then it turned its head towards the screen and smiled its innocent, toothless smile. “And you’ll finally be able to meet Jonas,” Marie continued.

Richter held back a sob as tears ran down his face. He reached out at the screen, stroking the image of his sister and nephew. Marie looked back up at him.

“It’ll all be fine,” she assured him.

“No,” Richter replied sullenly. “People are dying. Countless more will be killed. All over politics.”

His sister frowned. For a moment, there was silence between them, only the quiet cackling of the baby interrupting it as it played with a strand of Marie’s hair.

“I just…,” Richter started. He looked off to the side, embarrassed of his own thoughts. “I just hope we’re on the right side.”

“Andreas,” Marie started, then stopped. She thought for a moment. “Andreas, things will be better with the emperor back. The party promised all of Rheinland that it will be better.” She didn’t sound completely convinced herself.

Richter glanced back at her, wiping the tears off his face. Then he sat there for a moment, completely still. The events of the day rushed into his memory; the explosions, the streaks of plasma, the shouts and barked commands. He imagined what the pilot in that last escape pod’s thoughts must have been. The fear he must have felt, staring back at his pursuers from the helpless confines of his capsule. The panic as he watched lances of energy reach out towards him, engulfing him like tendrils of hell itself.

“At what cost,” he whispered.

Marie stared at him, concern plain on her face. Then it faded away, replaced by familial warmth.

“You’re strong, Brüderlein,” she said with a reassuring laugh. “You’ll get through it. We all will.” She bounced her child up and down in her arms. The baby’s laughter streamed out of the screen’s speakers, waking Richter from his thoughts.

“Listen, it’s late here. I have to put Jonas to bed.” Marie stepped close to the screen and placed one hand on it, propping her boy up to face it with the other. She smiled warmly. “Talk to you tomorrow?”

Richter managed a weak smile and raised his hand against the monitor to meet hers, only the glass screen and a few lightyears separating him from his family.

“Yeah, Märchen” he said. “See you tomorrow.”

The screen went black and the transmission ended.