Chapter 13

Three months after their initial meetings, in the month of December, year 1659, things were progressing smoothly. The Baron skimmed a report on his desk. He had moved into the governor’s mansion, it had been cleaned up and rebuilt, the inside was as lavish as they could make it without causing the citizens to riot.

“Ok...the roads are mostly fixed up...about 90% of housing has been restored...the food situation has been fixed...I think we’re good here.”

The Baron muttered to himself as he looked through his papers. For the most part, all of their work had been taken care of. The Baron stood up from his desk and stretched, walking over to his cabinet and strapping on his gear. As he walked out of his office he flagged down an attendant.

“Tell the governor I am out doing police work. If he complains tell him I'm the Baron and I can do what I want.”

The Baron left the confused attendant and headed to the police station they had built. He walked in and was greeted by Brusilov wearing his gear as well.

“I had a feeling you would come here, Baron. Your work is progressing smoothly and you do not have much to do. Come, we will patrol Holensburg together. Usually police squads are four people, but I assume us two will be fine.”

Brusilov and the Baron walked the streets of Holensburg together, on top of their gear they wore a poncho like cloth that displayed the coat of arms of Holensburg, signaling that they were police. Their goal while patrolling was not necessarily to stop crime, their job was to look intimidating so criminals were less likely to commit crimes, as well as mediating disputes and capturing criminals when they did commit crimes. During their shift they were called upon to help mediate a dispute, two local butchers had gotten into a fist fight over stall placement.

“That Szczur is trying to steal away all my business!”

Wailed a mountain of a man wearing a butcher’s apron. The sides of his head were shaved and he had a long drooping moustache which was popular in Holensburg.

“This Barbaric Untermensch believes he should have MY spot!”

Countered a similarly sized man, also wearing an apron. He was balding and had a cauliflower ear.

“Calling names, eh? It works better when I can understand what you’re saying, głupek!”

“Same goes to you, Du Rattengesicht Arschloch!”

“Otóż ​​to!”

The men both squared up and began to swing at each other. Brusilov and the Baron just stared at each other.

“So...are you going to intervene?”

The Baron gestured weakly at the brawl unfolding in front of them.

“Be my guest.”

“No, no, I insist.”

“Brusilov, I do not feel like dying today.”

“Nor do I.”

Brusilov scratched his head and looked off into the distance.

“I just heard something that needs to be taken care of, stay here and talk to them when they calm down.”

He sprinted off in the direction he was looking before the Baron could say anything. The Baron sighed and squatted down, quietly watching the two men brawl. It looked like two bulls crashing into each other, and probably generated about as much force as the real thing. The two men were perfectly matched, they traded punch for punch, block for block, headbutt for headbutt. The Baron watched them fight for about two full minutes. Finally, they both pulled back and released a devastating haymaker at the same time, both of them hitting the other’s jaw with the force of a freight train. Both of them stumbled for a moment and fell backwards, crashing into their respective stalls. The Baron looked up and found that someone had taken their spot while they were fighting, a petite woman who sold fish. The Baron bowed to her in congratulation and left to find Brusilov.

In the distance the Baron heard some yelling and came to check on what was happening. He could see Brusilov stalking around the entrance of an alley, silently peeking around the corner. The Baron was about to quietly walk over to ask him what’s up when Brusilov pulled out his kilij and a small black ball.

This should be interesting, Thought Brusilov as he followed after the sounds he heard. While he was deciding how to deal with the angry butchers, he heard the telltale accent of an elf in the distance. It was faint, but he definitely heard a frenchman arguing loudly with some locals. Holenstadters tend towards discrimination when it comes to the elves, something about the pompous attitude and pretentious language of the elves really gets under their skin. Brusilov quietly stalked after them, watching the group of men grab the elf and drag him into a nearby alley. Brusilov quietly walked over to the mouth of the alley and looked in. There were five men beating the elf, throwing him to the ground and kicking him over and over again. Brusilov noticed that they were all wearing armor and carrying swords, most likely men of the Soldiers Guild. Brusilov knew where this was going, he has seen it many times before.

Just this once, I’ll intervene. The Baron will probably want to meet an elf, might as well give him this one.

He drew his kilij and grabbed a small black egg, quietly crushing it in his palm using the pommel of his sword. He rushed into the alley and slashed the back of one of their legs, kicking him in the head as he fell to his knees, cracking his skull in between his foot and the wall. Two of the others turned around to look at him and he threw the black dust into their eyes, blinding both of them. He stepped forward and slashed one of their hands off at the wrist, pushing him into the other man and knocking both of them over. He drew his pistol and shot the fallen men, the bullet penetrating through both of their heads. Brusilov brought his pistol up to block a chop aimed for his back, the saber biting deep into the gun’s wooden grip. Taking advantage of the man’s saber being stuck in the pistol, Brusilov stabbed through the gap in the man’s armor at the waist, feeling his lower spine come apart. The last man swiped at Brusilov, forcing him to abandon his blade in the man’s waist and dodge back. Brusilov drew his knife and fell into his knife fighting stance, holding it low near his waist as he brought his off hand out in front of him. His knife looked out of place in this world, the handle was metal and had very fine knurling on it. The guard was just a rectangle. The blade was double sided and came to a very fine point. They began to slowly circle each other, daring the other to make the first move.

“Brusilov! What are you doing!?”

The Baron shouted at the mouth of the alley, which was now to the side of them. The last man looked over at the Baron and Brusilov smiled. With a small click the blade of Brusilov’s knife shot out and embedded itself in the throat of the distracted man. He groped at his neck and pulled the blade out, causing a torrent of blood to pour out. He passed out almost immediately, dropping backwards onto his dead comrades. Brusilov cooly walked over to his blade and stuck it back into his knife. He turned around just in time to see the Baron’s fist coming at him, connecting with his face and knocking him to the ground.

“Brusilov, what the...fuck! What the fuck! Why!? Why did you kill them?!”

Brusilov rubbed his jaw and stood up.

“They were going to kill that man.”

He gestured toward the elf, he had stood up and was slowly making his way over to them, holding his ribs and breathing hard.

“You still didn’t have to kill them!”

“They were part of the old guard, they would not have listened to me just because I am a policeman, and most of them hate me specifically so I doubt they would listen to anything I would say. If I did not move in when I did they would have killed that elf. Сукин сын.”

Brusilov was struggling to dislodge his kilij from the man’s spine, pulling hard and losing his grip, falling onto his back and cursing.

“Elf?”

The Baron looked over at the elf as he was leaning against a wall.

“You’re an elf?”

He was wearing a brown overcoat and a fur ushanka common in Holenstadt. He nodded his head and removed his hat, revealing his long ears and short blond hair.

“Oui, Monsieur.”

He had a French accent and a medium sounding voice. The Baron pointed at Brusilov angrily.

“I will deal with you later. Make sure this doesn’t become an incident, if I receive anything from the Soldiers Guild or Badeni family I will send you back to Grossenstadt, but for now, Herr Elf, I would very much like to speak to you. Come, let’s get you fixed up and in a clean set of clothes.”

After getting back to the mansion and getting him set up with a bath and new clothes, the Baron sat down to talk to the elf.

“I am the Baron of this province, as well as Bickenstadt. Everyone simply refers to me as Baron. Tell me, how is good your Reikers?”

The Elf took a drink of his wine and made a face like it was too sour.

“My name is Jean Le Mécanique. I am fluent in Reikers.”

“So, tell me Jean, what are you doing here? Our two nations are at war currently.”

“You are not at war with all elves, you are only at war with La République Elfique, so I decided to pretend to be from one of the other countries and travel the Empire.”

“And yet you were almost murdered in an alley for being an elf.”

“Oui, I did no see that coming. I knew there was some prejudice against elves, but I did no realize it was so bad. And I did no realize the systemic aspects of it. I tried to find work but I found only that elves are not allowed to take publique service positions. I was truly shocked by ‘ow much men of the Empire ‘ated elves.”

“Well, do elves not feel the same, or at least similarly, about humans? We have been at war for some time, and the Empire is not known to treat its enemies kindly.”

Jean narrowed his eyes and curled his lip in disgust.

“That is a joke, Oui? You do no believe that, do you? I can no speak for La Sécession Royale or La Volonté de Dieu Manifestée, but La République Elfique was founded on the simple concepts of Liberté, Égalité, Fraternité! We would never stoop to such unfounded bigotry! We Républicains do ‘ate you, Oui, but we ‘ate Empiresmen, no all ‘uemans!”

“Calm down Jean, I was not making a moral judgment. I was simply asking a question. Our Empress is a bigot, she hates the elves, and so do many powerful people within the Empire. Your folk are not welcome here, and so I assumed your people would allow the same thought processes to take hold of their hearts as well.”

Though, of course, the Baron didn't believe Jean. There would always be types like him, idealists who believe everyone things the way they do.

Jean took a sip of his wine to calm himself and resumed speaking.

“We ‘ave been taught to not make wild assumptions like that! My father was killed by an Empire raiding partie, I could easily make a snap judgment in anger, to dismiss all ‘uemans as backwards murderous savages. And yet, such judgements would be quite rash, you ‘ave taken me in, and your friend saved me from a ghastly death, no? Républicains, at least those of us who ‘ave completed our publique education, try to see the world in shades of gray.”

“Fascinating, you will have to inform me of what ideas you have encountered during your education, but for now, I ask you to answer my previous question, what brings you to the Empire?”

Jean took out a booklet and handed it to the Baron. It was filled with notes written in cursive and diagrams of buildings and machinery.

“I am ‘ere to research the mechaniques of the Empire, and to generally travel the world and learn as much as I can. We are gearing up to finish off Le Sécession Royale once and for all, but Le Grand Général wishes to find knowledge from around the world that will ‘elp us.”

Jean took another sip of his wine, again wincing as if it were sour candy.

“Is our wine not to your liking?”

Jean shook his head frantically.

“Mais non! it's fine! I’m just used to wine with lower alcohol percentage is all!”

“Mmm, sure. Anyways, your name, specifically your last name, Mécanique...Mechanic. What’s that about?”

“Well, when you graduate from l'académie de Mécanique, you get referred to as ‘La Mécanique’, my true last name is Dubois, but I do not use that for anything except marriage.”

“So what exactly is a Mécanique? Do you work with machines or something?”

“Oh, I uh, believe the term in Reikers is Engineer, we do engineer work, from architecture to machining, we do a lot of things. If you are a Mécanique then you are given good jobs with good pay, we are the backbone of our society, we keep everything running, fixing infrastructure and setting up manufacturing.”

“Interesting, then that would mean you are quite learned on the subject? You look rather young for an academic smart enough to be sent on a military mission.”

“Oh, my mission is no specifically for military gain, I do no work for the government, I ‘ave just came ‘ere on my own, stowed away on a Assai’id trade ship. It’s just if I don’t bring something useful ‘ome I may not be allowed back.”

“Strange. And how long have you been traveling?”

“For about five years now”

“Five years? How old are you?”

“125 years of age this year.”

The Baron searched his eyes for any sign of sarcasm, then quickly smacked his forehead.

“Right, you’re an elf. You live a long time.”

“Well, by elven standards I am still quite young. Elven years do no translate properly into ‘ueman years, but I would be roughly...25 years of age were I ‘ueman. I am the youngest graduate of l'académie de Mécanique in ‘istory, though it ‘as only been around for 200 years since it was founded.”

“You seem to know a lot, and you seem to have ideas that we have not encountered yet. Say, Jean, how would you like to work for me? I believe you would be an extremely useful asset for my plans in the future.”

“I would love to work for you! But...are you allowed to ‘ire me? Your Empress ‘as banned elves from ‘olding offices, no?”

“There is nothing she can do about a humble mercenary company like mine hiring someone for a specialist role. That rule only applies to public office and public servants.”

Jean itched his head in thought.

“But you are a Baron of two provinces.”

“Eh, semantics. Quite frankly I do not care what the Empress thinks. I wish to work with an elf, and so work I shall! You may have knowledge we do not, you may know techniques that would be very useful to us. The Empress finds you people disgusting, I find you interesting. The most the Empress can do to me is shake her fist, and shake she will, I assure you. I will take you on as the head of my Engineer corps, and you will help us get stronger. I have already made sure the men know at least the basics of engineering, I wish for you to turn them into proper engineers. If we teach my men to build as well as destroy our services will be sought after desperately, and if we use an elf to do so, it may destigmatize them and improve how society at large views you. It’s a win-win.”

Jean rubbed his chin in thought.

“I accept your proposal, Baron, do you ‘ave any work that I can ‘elp with?”

“Excellent, and yes, I do. I want you to go and find three of my Lieutenants, Hans Freier, Ludwin Albrecht, and Fergus Ulpagahn. They are currently the heads of the construction effort, everything passes through them. I will provide you with clothes that show your affiliation, though unfortunately I cannot create anything in the elven style, so mainstream Imperial fashion will have to do, will that be a problem for you?”

“No problem, I will start immediately.”

The Baron grabbed his shoulder as he tried to stand up and forced him back in his chair.

“Actually no, we need to wait for new building material to arrive before we can do anything, get some rest while we create your clothes, and tomorrow you will look around the town with a security detail. Find things you think could be improved and report back to Helmut. After the construction materials arrive I want you to assist in the construction in any way you can. Also, make sure to build everything you can in the local Holensburger style, they are quite touchy about that sort of thing.”

“Alright then, that sounds good. Am I going to be staying in this mansion?”

“Yes, I’ll tell the servants to prepare a room for you, tomorrow we will introduce you to everyone, and after that you can begin your assignment.”

“That sounds good Baron, I promise I will not disappoint!”

The next day, after getting Jean his new clothes, the Baron called his lieutenants together to meet their new teammate. Jean was wearing the latest Imperial fashion, the floofy and flamboyant clothes of a landsknecht.

“To be 'onest Baron, I am no sure about these clothes.”

“I am sure they are far more flamboyant than you are used to, but you will simply have to deal for the time being, it is the easiest way to identify you as one of my men.”

“Still, it is so...poofy! And why are there two sets of shirts to wear?”

“Well, the top shirt has holes in it that form an interesting pattern, and the bottom shirt is used to make the design pop by using complimentary colors.”

“No, I get that, I just wish it was...less.”

The Baron patted his lightly padded shoulder.

“We will get you a simple three piece suit when we return to Bickenstadt. But for now you, well, you can just wear the undershirt if you want.”

“My problem is with these poofy sleeves!”

He waved his arms around for emphasis.

“Fine then! Rip them off or something, maybe have Fergus do it when you get the chance. he is quite strong. Speaking of which, it is time to introduce yourself.”

They walked into the reception hall of the mansion where they found the lieutenants, minus Hans who was still working with the caravans, sitting around a restored great table that the previous baron used for feasts. The Baron cleared his throat to get everyone’s attention.

“This is your new comrade in arms, his name is Jean la Mechanic, and he will be heading up my engineering corps.”

He pushed Jean in front of his as he spoke. Jean Nervously fell into attention, legs together and arms at his side standing straight up.

“Eh...-e-’ello! I am Jean Le Mécanique! Monsieur Bickenstadt and ‘is friend saved me from some ‘olenstadter knights yesterday, and in ‘is infinite kindness decided to bring me into 'is services. I ‘ope our work together bears fruit!”

Everyone stared at Jean for a moment and then looked at each other. Fergus got up and started making his way to Jean. Jean was about a head taler than Fergus, but under his gaze he looked like a field mouse comparing itself to an elephant. As Fergus got closer Jean began to shrink away, the air in the room grew tenser and tenser as he drew closer and closer. Finally Fergus was right on him, bringing his arms out wide. Jean began to shrink back even harder, then Fergus sprang into action, trapping Jean is a giant bear hug.

“ANY FRIEND A’ THA BARON IS A FRIEND A’ MINE! Welcome ta tha team Jean!”

Everyone breathed a sigh of relief, they knew that Fergus wasn’t the type to attack someone at random, but he was quite the loose cannon, so they could never be sure. Udo walked over and slapped Fergus in the back of the head.

“Fergus, look what you've done! You scared the kid half to death!”

Fergus looked at Jean and gave him a big smooch on the cheek.

“Sorry ‘bout that!”

He let Jean go and pointed at himself with his thumb.

“Aye’m Fergus Ulpagahn! A Berzerkeri and one a’ tha Baron’s Lieutenants! ‘Sa pleasure ta work with ya!”

Udo patted Jeans shoulder and introduced himself.

“Yo! I’m Udo Fudopfiegler, also a Lieutenant. Let’s try to treat each other well! I’m sure the Baron hired you for a reason.”

After that Ludwin stood up and spoke, looking and sounding stiff.

“He-hello. I am Ludwin Albrecht.”

There was an awkward silence as Ludwin struggled to think of what to say.

“Uh, I hope we can work together well.”

He finally managed to choke out. Helmut bowed as he introduced himself.

“My name is Helmut, son of Waffenstadt and one of the Baron’s Lieutenants.”

Again the room was filled with an awkward silence. Helmut slowly scratched the back of his head as he sat down. The Baron stepped forward and spoke to Jean.

“By the way, there is another man you will be meeting, his name is Hans Volkner. He is currently riding with the caravans so he should be back soon. Anyways, go on, take a seat and I’ll inform you all of what we will do from here.”

Jean did as instructed as the Baron unfurled a map on the table. He took a pen and dipped it in red ink, circling the south side of town.

“We have made great progress in the past three months, but south Holensburg is still in complete disarray. The walls have yet to be repaired and much of that side of town is still homeless. After we rebuild that side of town and confirm that Holensburg is in a good state, we will leave for Bickenstadt and rest, the men will have three months leave, and after that they will be on standby until our services are needed again. During those three months you will be permitted to go wherever you wish, your vacation will be subsidized. What I am saying essentially is that when we wrap up construction and peacekeeping in Holensburg, we will go on vacation. I hope that is enough motivation for you to work as hard as you can.”

Everyone smiled and nodded their heads.

“But, we can’t do the work we need to get done until the caravans are back, so for now, I want you to plan what needs to be done. I wish for all of you to work together, Jean will most likely have knowledge that we do not, and vice versa, so I wish for you to teach each other as much as you can, when you can. Your current orders are to go to south Holensburg and survey and catalogue what still needs to be done. After that you will draw up plans on what you want to do and consult with the ruling families to make sure your work is satisfactory. Understood?”

“Yes Sir!”

“Good, then get on it.”

Everyone stood up and started to leave when the Baron raised his voice again.

“Additionally, if any of you treat Jean poorly just because he is an elf, you will be shot. Clear?

“Yes Sir!”

Everyone saluted, the Lieutenants in the Imperial fashion, a fist over their heart and their other arm behind their back, and Jean in the Elven fashion, hand straight and to the edge of the eye socket, palm facing down.

The south side of Holensburg was in disrepair. It had been patched up a bit, but it was still falling apart, and much of the populace was currently stuck in temporary housing. Jean was writing in his notebook as the group watched, muttering to himself in Elven as he wrote. Jean was suddenly brought out of his stupor by Fergus trying to get a look at his notebook. He sighed and lowered it to Fergus’s level.

“Vaos biist þu shrreeben auber? Es issst allle inn Ailfisch.”

Jean had no idea what that meant. His accent was extremely thick. Jean’s grasp on Reikers was fairly strong, or at least he liked to believe it was, but he had no idea how the others understood Fergus.

“I ‘ave no idea what you are saying, sorry.”

Fergus looked annoyed and tapped Ludwin’s shoulder, pointing at Jean as he spoke.

“Air verrstaht meer nikt.”

Ludwin chuckled slightly and looked at Jean apologetically.

“You’ll come to understand him with time, we all got it eventually. Speaking of accents, yours is quite easy to understand, though it is still fairly thick, sorry.”

“Merci. I ‘ave been practicing very ‘ard during my travels. So ,what did our comerade from Orkney say to me?”

“He wanted to know what you were writing. He can't read elven”

“Oh, but of course.”

Jean pointed to what he was writing and began to read it out in Reikers to Fergus, making sure to enunciate every syllable as clearly as he could.

“The roofs are slanted at a much sharper angle than ours are, most likely to counteract the hhhheavy snowfall Hhhholenstadt gets every year.”

He still had trouble producing the sound of ‘H’ naturally, but he could do it if he needed to. Fergus smiled and said something incomprehensible to Jean, which Ludwin happily ‘translated’ back to Jean.

“He said that reminds him of when he first came to the Empire, he was surprised that none of the houses close to the river were on stilts.”

Jean’s eyes began to sparkle and he flipped to a new page.

“You put ‘ouses on stilts near rivers? Fascinating! Is it because the weather in Orkney is more extreme? Because it floods far more and far more violently? And tell me, what shape are your roofs? Do they need to be sharply angled so the rain does not collapse it?! Similar to what these people do to protect from snow?! And what kind of building materials do you-”

Ludwin gently pushed his booklet into his chest, smiling the most disarming smile he could manage

“There will be time for this later, but for now, we are on assignment”

Jean quietly flipped his notebook back to the page he was originally on.

“Oui, Pardon, You are right. I will focus on this task before bothering Fergus.”

They continued to walk around southern Holenstadt, logging what needed to be done and sketching plans of what they were going to build. Jean walked over to a smith who’s stall had roof tiles piled on it and asked him a question.

“What do you use to create shingles? Is it clay or wood?”

“Co? Przepraszam, nie mówię po Reikers.”

“Excuse me? Do any of you speak Bzerci?”

Jean looked at his comrades and received a no from all of them. Jean looked at the smith again and huffed.

“‘ow do you not speak Reikers? You live in the Empire!”

The smith said something that Jean didn’t understand and went back to his work. Jean sighed disheartedly and drew a sad face at the end of the line he had written.

“This is going to be ‘arder than I was ‘oping...”

About four days after they surveyed south Holesnburg, the caravans finally arrived back at the city. After cataloguing everything that they had brought back and consulting the estimates that Jean made, they could finally get to work restoring Holensburg to its former glory. But during the construction, Hans had some grievances to bring to the Baron.

The Baron was sitting in his office, reading over reports on the construction. He was very pleased with how things were proceeding. If they kept up the pace they would finish before spring. He wanted to hurry back to Bickenstadt as quickly as he could, from what he remembered the weather there was beautiful no matter what time of year, unlike the hellish winter that was currently upon them. As he was desperately trying to distract himself from his paperwork, Hans barged into the study in a huff. The Baron threw his pen down onto his desk a little too eagerly and greeted Hans.

“Hans! Good to see you back! How did you find thi-”

“Why have you hired a gods damned elf!?”

“...”

The Baron couldn't think of a response.

“Um...can you...say that again?”

“He is an elf! An enemy of the Empire! Why would you hire one of the lesser beings attempting to subvert the Empire!?”

“He is...not from the nation we are at war with.”

The Baron knew it was not true, but that line should get him out of any legal trouble at least, so it was the story he would tell everyone who asks.

“The elves are the enemy of the Empire, and therefore of mankind! And you not only allow one to walk our lands freely, you hired it to work for you and help rebuild the Empire!”

“It?”

The Baron took a step towards Hans, standing up as tall as he could and summoning his best superior officer voice.

“You not only question the decision of a superior officer, THE superior officer, you question the personhood of someone I have recognized as useful? I know that I treat you as an equal, but you forget yourself! I am the Baron von Bickenstadt, a couple of generations ago you wouldn’t have been important enough to have a last name. I appreciate your skills and I value your opinion, but this company will function just fine without you. So either learn to work with Jean la Mechanique, or leave.”

Hans opened his mouth to respond and the Baron cut him off.

“I have given you everything, I paid for your education, given you a steady, well paying job, and taken care of your family when they needed it. And just as easily as I made you, I can unmake you, ruining the life of a poor family of farmers falls quite high on the scale of misdeeds a Baron can get away with. Remember that before you dig your grave any deeper.”

Of course, the Baron would never do that. If he needed to fire Hans, he would make sure his family is taken care of, anything else would leave a poor taste in his mouth.

“...”

Hans balled his fist and averted his eyes from the Baron. He clenched his jaw and spit out an apology through gritted teeth. The Baron sat back down at his desk and took up his pen.

“You’re dismissed. I’m sure this outburst was simply caused by how tired you are from your journey. Go get some rest. Tomorrow, you will be assisting with the construction. The faster we get done here the faster we can head home.”

Hans continued to stand in front of the desk, red faced and breathing hard. The Baron had never pulled rank on him before. It felt horrible, being reminded that his success was contingent on the whims of a single man thinking highly of him. His anger had been cooled by the realization that if he angered the Baron, everything he had worked for could be taken away in an instant. Cooled, but replaced with a more primal emotion, fear.

“Leave me. Now. Tomorrow we will put this behind us, but today, I want you out of my sight.”

Hans performed a very quick salute and left the tent. The Baron set down his pen and ran his hand through his hair. He didn’t like threatening Hans’s livelihood like that, it felt dirty. But, if his bigotry, his vitriolic hate of the Elve was going to be a problem, he couldn’t hesitate to fire him. His plans for the future involved making peace with the Elves and opening up trade with them, but if people like that were common in the Empire, that could complicate things somewhat. He put his head down on his stack of papers and sighed.

“I want to go home...”

It was beginning to really sink in how far out of his element he was. In his previous life he was a sociology professor in Boston. He had been in the army, sure, but he was a grunt who spent most of his time on convoy missions bored out of his mind, only seeing combat a handful of times. He was pretty confident that he had killed people but he couldn’t be sure, it was hard to tell if you actually hit anything spraying at bushes on a mountainside 100 yards away. He didn’t feel particularly patriotic when he joined the military, only doing it to get himself through college, and he felt even less enthusiastic about American exceptionalism after he got out of the military. Even his memories of the Iraq war were beginning to sweeten as he thought back to his exploits in this world. At least he didn’t have to see the faces of the people he killed before, it made it easier, but now he was close enough to smell their breath. The Baron’s mentality must have affected him, because it didn’t bother him too much, but the fact that he didn’t feel much when he killed people like that did bother him. He closed his eyes and slowly drifted off to sleep, reminiscing about his past life.