After being acquainted with his new position as the CAG on board his carrier, Erich soon found that his days within the Fleet were much easier than before. Now that he held a high-ranking position, he had a lot more liberty in how he operated.

But the horrors of war had never truly left Erich's mind. And though he had come a long way over the past two years, from the broken state he was left in directly after the War with Terminus, he was still afflicted by shell-shock, a condition that he might suffer from for the rest of his life.

Thus, every night Erich would sit down in the mess hall on board the carrier and drink his sorrows away. After all, in order to help the Germanic people cope with the losses they had suffered during the Terminus War, the newly reformed government had lifted the alcohol consumption limit, and because of this booze flowed across the Empire's borders as its most prized commodity.

But many of these young recruits were fresh out of the academy. They had never served in war before, and were growing quite impatient with the current peaceful atmosphere. They did not understand what war entailed, for how could they if they had never experienced its horrors?

As for the 25% of men who were actually combat veterans, they were left in a state much like Erich. The Terminus war had taken a toll on them. And for those who served in the Dvrakian War just prior to the Naraku invasion of Germanic space, they might never fully recover from that which they had endured.

After all, that war was unlike any other the GSE had ever fought. Simply because the soldiers of the Imperial Military were pushed past their breaking points in order to achieve an overwhelming victory in the shorted time frame possible.

For Those who had fought and survived in both wars they were likely suffering from some form of PTSD, or were at the very least haunted by what they had endured. Because of this, the mess hall was filled with two distinctive groups. Fresh eyed boys straight out of the academy, or basic training who wanted a piece of action. And grizzled old veterans who had seen far too much of war for their own good. There was no in-between.

These two groups barely interacted with one another. Thus, Erich was sitting with a bunch of the other veterans on board the ship, all of which had their heads hanging low in silence as they drank away their troubles.

Of course, drinking seemed to have the opposite effect on Erich's mind, for one simple reason. He had been given a rather prestigious award on top of being granted the order of the Black Sun and the rank of commander. In order to keep the military traditions alive, the Admiral in charge of the 13th Fleet had granted Erich a rather prestigious beer stein. One which was awarded to the Air Group's top fighter ace.

As a man who had earned this coveted item while serving along his previous comrades, this cup served only to remind Erich of what he had lost. Something which ate away at his soul, as he gazed upon a reward that had once filled him with joy.

Thus, this black and silver beer stein, which had a large silver black sun embedded in its center, along with the words "Black Sun Top Gun" which were engraved in a silver plaque, served more like a source of misery to the veteran pilot, rather than a source of joy.

While Erich was drinking a particularly strong doppelbock beer, the doors to the mess hall opened to reveal the Admiral and his personal bodyguard. Immediately, everyone jumped to attention upon seeing the admiral enter the mess hall. Who began to speak in an authoritative tone as he addressed the overwhelming majority of the ship's crew who were currently gathered in this location.

"The Great Oni Empire has declared war on one of their rivals and has called upon the Germanic Star-Empire for military aid. As of this moment, the 13th Fleet shall be mobilizing for war against the Lutharian Ascendancy.

The enemy is a regional power, with 2,500 star systems under their control, and level of military technology on par with our Oni Allies. The Supreme Leader has decided in his infinite wisdom to dispatch a single fleet, to show the Galaxy that the Empire had not been broken, despite the hardships it has endured over these past few years.

Thus, I expect each and every one of you to give your best performance in this upcoming conflict. Glory to the Empire, and hail victory!"

The overwhelming majority of soldiers sitting within the mess hall immediately threw up their arms in salute as they repeated the admiral's words back to them.

"Hail victory!"

With this said, that Admiral smiled at the young recruits and their excitement at the prospect of war. While also staring at the grizzled veterans and the look of pure depression that formed on their faces when they realized they were being sent out to fight again.

The Admiral then left the room as quickly as he had come, leaving the new recruits to celebrate. A particularly brash young pilot raised his glass into the air and made a toast, not knowing that his words would greatly offend those men who had previously seen conflict.

"To victory! May it be as sweet as I hope it is!"

The young recruits all lifted their glasses into the air and began to chant the words "to victory" over and over again. To the point where some of the veterans got up from their own cliques and walked out of the room, no longer wanting to witness what to them was a cringe display of naivety.

As for Erich, he simply could not stand it any longer, especially since the most excited among the new recruits were the pilots of his wing. He then grabbed hold of his "prized" beer stein and lifted it into the air with a rather grim expression on his face. He did this while listing off the callsigns of those pilots of the Black Sun who had perished in the Terminus war.

"To Wolfsangel, Totenkopf, Odin, Berlin, Hurricane, Thor, Crash...."

The list continued for quite some time. As Erich spoke, the enthusiasm among the new recruits faded until the room was filled with sadness..

And while Erich was the only pilot who had survived the Terminus war within his Air Group, the other veterans from the Navy finally stood up and lifted their mugs in solidarity with Erich's words, each adding the names of their own comrades who had for one reason or another died, and were never brought back.

historical

The new recruits' expressions changed from eagerness for war to realizing that combat was not as glorious as expected. In the end, they all lowered their heads, and realized how foolish they had been, as well as how much they had offended their predecessors. Or at least those who still drew breath.

After all the veterans had finished saying the names of their fallen comrades, Erich added a few more. Though with each name, he struggled to speak it.

"To Fredrik.. Dolph.. Karl.. Butcher.. and .... S'aleth."

That last one in particular, Erich, had choked on his own words, finding it incredibly difficult to speak the name. For those Veterans who had previously served upon this carrier, they all knew about the spunky young Dvrakian girl who seemed to be incredibly close with Erich prior to her death.

They all shook their heads in pity, realizing that such a lovely young girl had lost her life in the Terminus conflict along with the overwhelming majority of her race. The survivors of which were spread across Alfheim space as refugees, no better off than the Rylonians.

It was only after Erich has some time to swallow the pain in his heart at the very mention of S'aleth, did he finally take a swig from his beer stein, drinking its entire contents in one go before placing it on the table, and leaving the room in complete and total silence.

The other veterans immediately followed his actions. Who all left the new recruits behind in a state of depression. As they all sat back down at their seats and continued to drink. But they were no longer excited about the prospect of war, instead they took some time to reflect on how they ended up in the Navy to begin with.