Gym Time!

The soldiers sweated under the steel bars of bench presses. Slightly intoxicated they continued to push their bodies against the lifeless weights in an effort to disperse built up frustrations and anger. Most of the men hadn’t even remembered why or how they ended up drinking in the shower of a gym, but the soldiers had remaining out of operations for more than half of a week without receiving further orders to leave California Base.

Little mattered to them at the moment, their Schutzstaffel Officer had moved into the ocean theatre a few days earlier and left the Panzergrenadiers behind. Oberscharfuhrer Novosad, unevenly thrust the barbell into the air while trying to recall the previous days actions.



“Oberscharfuhrer! We’ve received orders.” A uniform clad soldier approached Ritter as he looked over Schutzstaffel documents regarding the officers and soldiers fielded during the Seattle assault, one of the marines under him sat in an opposing chair assisting with organizing the information. There were several personnel of interest present at the moment and it was his job to know them.

The man looked up from his chair in an office of the Schmerz. Offices and desks were neither of their flavors but the stagnant movements of forces after engaging White Base left too much time on idle hands. “Where are we heading?” Ritter asked with a sense of relief.

“We’re to remain here. The Terrestrial Assault Force’s prototype Recon Gaw is being loaned to Obersturmfuhrer Brennan for an operation over the Pacific. All units under your command including the Schmerz will assist the 9th Operations fleet in their asset’s absence. “

Ritter paused for a moment and contemplated his situation. While he was completely loyal to Gihren and his cause he’d have to go blind to not see the dislike some of the officers harbored against him. On several occasions Novosad had taken life which would be considered non-essential to their cause and he saw no wrong in that fact. Despite the war, the officers whose paths he crossed were full of morals and ideas of righteousness. They all either hated the man for his actions on the battlefield or thought lowly of him because of his past.

He had yet to meet an officer with the determination that matched his own. “Understood. Do the paperwork required to make it happen. I’ll inform the men.” After a quick goodbye the soldier was on his way. Glancing at the pile of photos spread out he gazed at the photo of Ando Shoji.

“Novosad, you seem preoccupied.” The accompanying Panzergrenadier started clearing up the intelligence while he looked over his commander.

“I’ve been traded for that plane haven’t I?” Ritter’s face went stale at the thought. His ideas of Brennan’s and Nimue’s dislike of him must have been worse than he thought…

“Seems possibly. In addition it seems the 9th fleet won’t be moving out for another week. Perhaps recreations should be added to the agenda, should soften the news of the transfer for the other men.

He lifted his head a bit and replied “Yeah, that doesn’t sound bad at all.” Ritter thought about it for a second. “This one.” Ritter slid the dossier of Specialist Dawn towards his squad mate. “The Newtype. Tell the Corps to have her meet us with her mobile weapon in sector 15 later today for training drills.” The idea of fighting against a newtype mobile unit seemed to cheer him up.

“I was thinking more along the lines of time off. It’ll be a good change of pace for you.” Before Ritter was able to throw a fist or blast his mouth off at the new marine he held out a card to the Panzergrenadier. “It never hurts to let everything go once in awhile. Let the human side of you out.”

Grabbing the card out of the soldiers hand and punching in his face at the same time Ritter excused both himself and the marine from the room. He was a more forgiving man to his own troops, and the offending action would simply leave a broken nose. At the same time he glanced at the business card which had little more than an address on it and the background of a classy upper-class tavern. He slipped the card into a pocket and moved to prepare for the coming spar.



“Ugh. I feel like shit.” The Oberscharfuhrer groaned as he drifted back to consciousness and rolled off the bench press he had taken up at the California Base’s recreational gym. His face found it pressed against the abs of another gym go who caught an interest in the sleeping man. “Hmm? Who’s that?” His mouth mumbled against the skin as he tried to right himself. Several of Ritter’s men who had caught sight of the incident burst into laughter.

The body let out a giggle as the unshaven man’s whiskers dragged across her abdomen. “Stop that, it tickles!” Ritter’s head was pushed back by a hand during his confusion; he caught a glimpse of the tightly packed sports bra belonging to woman standing in front of him now. She stepped back and cleared her throat trying to regain her composure. “Are you ok?”

“It’s not worth it. The composure, the attitude, the standing. Fuck it.” Ritter spout out as stood up and slouched on the shoulder of the young woman. He was too intoxicated to notice anything about her but the red hair. She whispered as she carried him.

“Take it down a notch will you. They’ll pick you up for intoxication.” They both sat down together on a nearby bench, Ritter leaning his head back until it hit the wall behind them. He rubbed his head up and down the textured wall out of amusement at the feeling.

“HEY BOSS! You’re a horrible drunk! Stop hitting on that woman and give us some music before you blackout!” His own men laughed at his intoxicated actions and tossed cheap harmonica to his feet. He waved his hand flat in an attempt to catch something that wasn’t thrown to him.

“This is your faults. Fucking drinkers.” Ritter leaner forward and planted a hand on the ground as he grasped the small tin instrument. Pushing himself backwards his hair met the wonderful textured wall it had grown to love in such short time. His hand moved forward and pressed the instrument against the red head’s chest. “You go for it. I fucking hate that thing.”

Her hands grasped the thing softly before giving a blow through 5 holes at the same time. “Uh, I think I’ll pass” commenting as she tried to return it.

“That was beautiful. You know it’s impossible to play that thing and not have it in harmony. Now again do it again but only one hole.” He muttered as he sat up and looked at her try.

“How exactly would I do that?” She looked at the size of the holes and questioned.

“Your tongue. Roll your tongue.” Ritter waved his hand in the air in an effort to speed up her learning.

She rolled her tongue out of her mouth, “La lee?” Ritter wasn’t sure if it was annoyance or intoxication that fueled his next action.

“Fuck it, like this.” He made no attempt to roll his tongue as his lips locked with hers. Taken by surprise by his advance she leaned backwards which ended with the both of them laying length wise across the bench. As they both let their mouths separate she felt his firm grip on her shoulder and hips. After a moment’s thought she responded with a smile and helped him up.



*KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK*
“Hey ---“There was an awkward pause as Ritter sat up from the hotel room’s bed. “Would you get that?”

“Pig. You don’t even remember my name do you?” Ms. Redhead walked to the dog slightly questioning her actions. Opening the door there was two large suit cases in front of them.

“Bring them here.” He said in a slightly darker voice from the edge of the bed. He brushed his curly hair back as he looked them over, his companion walking into the bathroom. He proceeded to unlock the oversized cases and lay out their contents on the bed. It was a few minutes before she returned from her bathroom visit but by that time the body she engaged with was no longer present, the face no longer visible, and the presence of the man altogether hidden behind a mask. She immediately noticed the Schutzstaffel emblem on his armor. Looking over a document stored within the case his gaze did not falter as he raised a submachine gun and pointed it at the young enlisted woman’s forehead.

Her heart raced as she gasped for air, “Wha…What are you doing? NO! NO!!!” She ran to the corner of the hotel room with the submachine gun following her every step, not once leaving its trace on her head. Terrified she furiously tried to remove the chain from the room’s door as his gaze moved from the paper with his next scheduled spar to the redhead. She looked into his now glowing red eyes as he made a path towards her. Her legs gave out as she looked on in shock, dropping to the corner behind the door. She held her breathe until he walked out the door.

“Commander, your ride is already in route. We’re sparring against a Zaku II today. F Type Equipped, but the pilot is supposed to be something special. Engagement is in one hour.” Ritter looked off to the distance to see a jeep headed his way. He pointed his submachine gun at the jeep in the horizon, once more testing his sight and reflexes. It would have gone too far to let the drinking interrupt his fighting ability.

Going into its standard lifeless tone Ritter’s voice responded over the intercom. “Affirmative, the transport is here.” While he waited he noticed a woman running half naked to a car and speeding off in a hurry and recalled some of the events which had unfolded. He made a mental note to drink less often.