The Betrayer and the Betrayed

Prinz Eugen was tired. It had been several days since she woke up in Pearl Harbor, and her wounds were recovering faster than she had expected, given their severity. Yet, the thoughts occupying her mind lingered on every corner. Thanks to them, she could not sleep well, and it showed in the form of bags under her eyes.

The base commander, Captain Jeremiah Halsey, seemed to know some of the answers to her questions, but he had not come to visit since they first met.

She wondered where the Captain went; these past few days, the only visitors she had were members of the Nurse Corps and the scientist attached to the base, Dr. Keppler, whom she soon learned was the former head of the American KANSEN project.

The nurses were cordial, but they'd always leave in a hurry after they did their job. She wasn't sure if it was because they found her presence there intimidating or perhaps because she, more or less, acted cold towards them. On the other hand, Dr. Keppler did not even bother to be friendly; but she had to admit, her recovery was possible thanks to him. His visits were mostly brief, and they always ended with him sternly warning her not to move around too much.

Eugen placed her head on her pillow, trying to get some rest, but her thoughts once again wandered—the questions, the what-ifs, the guilt, the anger. She wanted to know where her commanding officer was, what kind of experiments she had been subjected to, and how she ended up at the base.

But most of all, she wanted to know whatever became of Admiral Hipper. Her sister most likely survived that night. She had always been stronger than she appeared to be.

If she did not, Eugen knew she could not forgive herself. If Hipper did survive, she knew her sister would not forgive her.

Either way, she did not expect forgiveness for what she did anytime soon or ever.

And though she never believed in karma or poetic justice, her situation was starting to feel like one even now.

The door creaked open, interrupting her train of thought, which she welcomed gladly. Much to her surprise, it was Captain Halsey.

"Oh, hello there. I just want to check on you. It seems you are recovering well. How are you feeling, fräulein?" He inquired as he stepped inside.

"Me? Yeah, I am recovering speedily. Maybe I can even...leave in a day or two," replied Eugen, who forced herself to smile at her visitor. She noted that the Captain sounds tired; he must've been swamped lately.

"That's good, that's good..." Halsey trailed off, but Eugen could not really tell whether it was due to fatigue or something was bothering him. She watched as he took a seat on a bedside chair and removed his cap, just like their first meeting.

"Is something wrong, herr kommandant?"

"Ah, sorry. I'm just feeling a little drained; it was hectic, you see. Our government has ordered all people with Japanese ancestry to be released from their internment camps now that the war's over."

"Internment…camps?" Eugen repeated. Not something she had been expecting, from what little she knew about the country.

"Simply put, in the aftermath of the attack on Pearl Harbor, they were ostensibly considered a national security risk...as in, they might be collaborators with the Japanese military. Of course, it was mostly the Army who did the job, but the Navy got roped into it eventually."

By this point, Eugen could see that the Captain was visibly disgusted. "I think it's not wrong to say they were betrayed by their own country," he finished, drawing a long breath and heaved a sigh afterward.

Betrayal by one's own, huh?

Eugen closed her eyes. Once again, she recalled the events of that night. She remembered her last shot, fired from a rigging damaged beyond repair, hitting their pursuer; she remembered the anguished cries of Admiral Hipper, and she remembered the ceaseless guilt haunting her days afterward.

"Yes, I would understand how they feel. How my sister feels."

"…Your sister…?"

"Do you know about Admiral Hipper?"

"Just a little. I heard she was crippled in an attack. I knew nothing about the incident, though…" 

Eugen laughed bitterly and looked away toward the view of the setting sun on the window.

"…betrayal by one's own, herr kommandant," she rasped.

As he began to understand the meaning behind the words, Halsey saw, from the corner of his eyes, Eugen raising a hand towards his arm, eventually grasping at it to get his attention.

"I don't like to beg, but please, don't return me to Germany."

"Unlikely," Halsey assured the desperate KANSEN. "The Navy has nothing to gain by repatriating you. For the time being, you are considered part of the United States Navy, fräulein. Whether you want to or not. Sorry about that. In that regard, at the very least, I will see to it that you are taken care of."

Eugen closed her eyes. It isn't that bad, all things considered. I have nowhere else to go, after all.

As she opened them again, she smirked at the Captain.

"Ahhh, well, I guess I have no choice, then. Also, if you are going to be my commander, just call me Eugen, will you?"

***

Meanwhile, on the other side of the world, at Kiel Harbor, Admiral Hipper lay unmoving on a solid iron cot; she was no stranger to lack of creature comforts, but even her patience had its limits. The smell of grease was assaulting her nostrils, and she felt she had been there too long for no discernible purpose. Despite that, the lone technician seemed to take her sweet time examining the cracks running over her left arm.

"Can you hurry up with the examination, Marie?!" She barked. The technician, who almost jumped at the sudden interruption, yelped in response, but she quickly apologized.

"I'm sorry. I'm not familiar with dealing with this kind of damage...and sorry, we cannot do anything about it either...restrictions and all..."

Hipper's expression softened a little as the technician spoke, though only for a moment.

"Fine, I can still move it, and it only hurts on occasion. You won't need to do anything at all."

"Well, it does seem you will be just fine. Maybe as long as you don't do strenuous things, that is; in a way, you are lucky the shot had you incapacitated for the rest of the war, and you don't have to sink because of that. There's nothing we can do about this, so I guess you can go."

"Danke," Hipper immediately got off the cot and put her usual uniform back on. "Damn all these stupid inselaffen. Sacking people left and right. More and more people are leaving, I see."

"Well, it's like the Versailles Treaty all over again. Of course, the victors would try to cripple the loser as much as possible. But then again, you are still allowed to get out of this base, aren't you? As long as you stayed within Kiel; frankly, I think the British are still being sensible here..."

That's right. But If the situation worsens...all of us...are getting 'scrapped.'

But I know I won't go down without fighting.

"Makes no difference to me."

"...You know, Hipper," Marie spoke, catching Hipper's attention, and she realized that the technician had been packing all her belongings. "Everyone is affected, yeah? This will be my last day here, too. I've been...dismissed."

"...I can see that. What are you planning to do, then?"

"I don't really know...But I'm definitely returning to my family; it has been a while since I last saw them."

"...family, huh... Hmph. Good luck then."

"Oh, danke," Marie hoisted the bag containing her belongings over her shoulder and made for the exit; she stopped halfway before reaching the door.

"This...might not mean much to you...but I've always wanted to thank you and the others for your service to this country...no matter how misguided the cause," the technician said gently; it was so earnest that even Hipper felt genuinely moved.

"Hmph. You really are naïve. But I can appreciate that. "

Laughing, Marie continued walking but abruptly paused again by the doorstop.

"Oh, and Hipper? I hope you will find what you are looking for."

With those words, she left, leaving Hipper alone in the cold room with a resolve more potent than ever.

I've no need for 'hope.' I will find her, no matter what it takes.

***

"Don't you think they're taking too long, Deutschland...?"

Hearing the question, Deutschland sighed and took a glimpse at her watch before turning to the asker.

"Still within the mission timeframe; I reckon they will be back here soon, Roon."

"Oh," Roon replied, kicking at the shallows and making a quiet giggle at the splash, ignoring Deutschland's apparent annoyance at her question. "Moonlit shore, peaceful seas, looks like a romantic vacation spot..."

Much to Roon's surprise, Deutschland snorted at the remark, even though she wasn't really joking—or even expecting a reaction, for that matter. Still, she did not mind; the soldiers they were tasked to escort had been deadly quiet as they waited, tense and on full alert—fitting, as they were currently standing on the enemy territory. But the whole atmosphere felt too dull for her, enough that she wished the British would just show up there for her to toy with.

At least, if that didn't happen, she wished they'd let her sink the British ships to deter pursuit instead of merely using the limpet mines. That was way too boring.

Just like Deutschland had predicted, a group of men in black uniforms and gas masks—the Werwolf commandos—emerged from the bushes, two of them supporting an emaciated, unconscious man.

Deutschland was about to inquire about his condition but held back as she remembered they were given the explicit order to leave as soon as possible. As the men walked past her toward the inflatable boats moored nearby, she motioned for Roon to follow.

"Aw, no one showed up after all..." Roon whined as she and Deutschland escorted the group back to a sleek, black U-Boat waiting for them offshore.

"Shut up. That's a good thing," Deutschland barked, watching as the men climbed aboard the ship with Roon close behind—she noted, with no small degree of amusement, that no matter how battle-hardened they were, they moved quicker with that KANSEN around. When she was absolutely sure nobody had been tailing them, she climbed aboard as well and closed the entrance hatch behind her.

***

There are traces of physical torture; I cannot say for sure about when they were administered...he is definitely underfed, though.

Perhaps they were starving him on purpose?

Possibly, or he could be on a frequent hunger strike. I've heard many stories of prisoners doing that.

Whatever the case, we'll just have to wait for him to wake up then. Why did you use that tranquilizer anyway?

He was tense and struggling; I didn't want to risk alerting the British and compromising the mission. Anyway, I have to leave and make my report. You stay here and keep watch.

...Heh. Do as you like, Hauptmann.

He could hear people talking around him as he began to regain consciousness but could not see them, though he recognized the distinct, haughty voice of the woman speaking, enough for him to finally force his eyes open.

When he did, the first sight Captain Wilhelm Reiner saw was Deutschland's familiar, grinning visage.

***

After two servings of bread ration and regaining a little strength, Wilhelm was able to sit upright on his cot and took a better look at the surroundings. He was inside a crew quarter, it seemed—cold and sterile, befitting of an Ironblood ship.

"Where...are we?" he asked, hating how hoarse his voice was, not helped by Deutschland passing him another nasty smirk as she gestured towards a bottle of water on a nearby end-table.

"Have some water; you sound like a hag."

"No need to tell me," he retorted but drank anyway.

"Well, I'm in a pretty good mood, so I'll explain everything. Well, let's start with this ship. This is the U-3530. Modified Type XXI U-Boat."

"Modified?"

"Adding to Type XXI's already impressive capability to stay submerged for a prolonged duration and without much noise, U-3530 is equipped with specialized material to deflect radar waves and advanced jamming capability. In case you cannot comprehend it, here's a simpler explanation: we're practically invisible."

At first, Wilhelm thought Deutschland was making fun of him—the constant sneer on her face told him so—but he soon remembered that she wasn't the kind of person who'd make up things just for the sake of aggravating someone.

"Well, does that sound too fancy for you?"

"…That sounds like something my sister would come up with."

"You aren't wrong."

"Tell me, then…what happened to her? I heard she disappeared before the Allies could take her away."

"Prinzessin? She's fine. She's the one who ordered your rescue."

Deutschland resisted the urge to laugh openly as Wilhelm dropped the bottle and futilely tried to get off the cot, only for his legs to give out and force him to lean on the wall so as not to collapse.

"…How is that possible? Tell me!"

"The ratlines. She escaped and regrouped with other fleeing officers; it didn't take long before they decided to make her the new Reichkanzlerin."

"…Is it because of our father…?"

"No, it's not because of the old Kanzler. Not entirely. They need her expertise—weapon systems and…KANSENs. These officers… intend to start the war again as soon as they are strong enough."

"If she thinks by rescuing me, I will join them…" Wilhelm growled, finally managing to regain the strength to stand up albeit shakily; looking at Deutschland, he noticed that she seemed unusually solemn.

"Don't put Prinzessin on the same level as those foolish fanatics. She knows better. And also, she still cares for you, despite your foolishness. It cost us a lot; you know that?"

"…Fine, fair enough. I…"

Wilhelm paused as the memories returned. How she was taken away, and how he can only watch, helpless, powerless to do anything. He remembered the last look she gave him—defiant and determined.

All of that because of him.

"…Eugen. Wh—what about Eugen…if something happened to her, I—"

Deutschland watched, with some pity, as Wilhelm slumped on the floor, mostly because he seemed to be on the verge of openly crying.

She wasn't surprised, though. Prinz Eugen had been under his command since she was commissioned, and her loyalty to him was unquestionable. He held her in high regard in return. Perhaps there's some other reason, too, but she's not too keen to delve deep into it.

"You've got to help me. Find her. Save her. I…I will do anything. She didn't deserve to suffer the consequences of my actions."

"Of course, she didn't; not so haughty now, eh? Of course, everything will be up to Prinzessin to decide, but I doubt she will say no."

Wilhelm crawled back into the cot instead of replying and sat there in silence for a considerable amount of time, his fists clenching so hard they turned white. Pretty impressive for someone who's supposedly drained, Deutschland thought.

"Get a rest. I need to make some calls," Deutschland ordered after she decided Wilhelm was not going to talk anymore and soon slammed the door behind her, leaving him alone to his devices.

Wilhelm briefly thought of laying back down on the cot but soon decided against it. He's not tired. Not anymore. Not when he got a renewed sense of purpose, strong enough to crush any apprehension of having to work with the Ironblood remnants.

"Wait for me," he whispered a promise to a certain someone out there.