Chapter 5 – WELCOME TO NEW SWABIA

 The Karlsland snow cruiser jolts and bounces over huge chunks of rock-solid ice as it makes its way across the barren lands of Ultima. Its gigantic rubber tires easily pass over any obstacle in its path and its incredible reinforced suspension keeps the journey at least somewhat comfortable for its now increased number of passengers. Inside, Lynn has been catching some much needed rest in one of the privacy bunks near the storeroom while Rhys and the other Britannians eat and flick through several magazines they found onboard. Unfortunately they are all in Karlslandic but the one long out of date ace witch calendar Ellis found was certainly entertaining enough. 

              After a long journey, passing over who knows how much empty land, Ursula eventually comes down from the control cabin in order to address the crew after shaking Lynn awake gently. 

              “Attention Britannians! We will soon be approaching New Swabia, our base camp here on Ultima. I must remind you that it is a military outpost so you must stay in the area’s we tell you to. Please; no wandering off.” the petite girl calls out with authority, steadily putting a pair of large fluffy mittens on her hands. 

               “Ughh how long was I asleep?” Lynn yawns as she stretches her arms above her head. Several of the Karlsland soldiers can't help but quickly oggle her busty chest as she does so, averting their eyes just in time to not be caught, getting back to their tasks around the cabin. 

               “About an hour. We made good time.” Ursula says with a friendly grin. “The storm has cleared up so I can show you to the radio station when we arrive.” 

              “Thank you. Commander Rhys will want to contact the fleet so they know we’re alright. They must be worried.” Lynn replies thankfully. 

               Indeed it isn’t more than a few minutes after Ursula’s announcement that the cruiser comes to a steady, albeit rather loud mechanical stop, the engine clicking and creaking as it begins to cool down. The silent and rugged Karlslanders efficiently and dutifully give their last disembarking checks, closing lockers and switching off internal lights before the large side door clunks into life, slowly opening allowing a momentary blast of frigid air to flood inside the vehicle. 

              “We have been ordered to help lift your colleague into the base.” one such soldier says to Rhys in a heavy accent, motioning towards Elliot to prepare to be carried outside. 

              “Do be careful with the chap. He’s delicate you understand. We’ll be right behind you.” Rhys replies jokingly, slapping his magazine down on the solid mattress. 

             Stepping out of the relative warmth and comfort of the snow cruiser Lynn is met with a strange and fantastical sight. Stretching out across a perfectly flat plane sits what appears to be a small village. There are several longhouse buildings made from thick and sturdy timber logs, with smoke billowing from tall chimneys, clearly the most important facilities on the whole site. Most other constructions look to be curved metal half-cylinders, reminding the witch of the common Anderson shelters people used to build back home in Britannia. There are a few other structures dotted about, an aircraft hangar, a tall radio mast, something likely to be a motorpool and a little ways away a building that might be a power plant. Above her head flaps the majestic sight of the Karlsland flag, bold and proud, its bright colours contrasted brilliantly against this ocean of white. 

             The door to the base headquarters is heavy and its edges frosted over with blobs of clear transparent ice which crack sharply as the gaggle of bundled up soldiers trudge inside. Most men scatter to go about their business deeper within the two story building, however as the Britannians look around the warm and shockingly cosy entrance hall; a tall, dark and imposing figure suddenly turns the far corner, marching at speed towards the startled group. 

               “Officer Hartmann!? Your back. Who exactly are these people?” The Karlsland base Commander asks venomously, demanding a solid answer from her younger comrade. Her tone of voice is piercing, however it is not this which catches Lynette's shocked attention - she knows this woman: The Star of Afrika, Hanna-Justina Marseille. She's dressed in a heavy leather uniform, perfectly custom tailored to her womanly form and sporting a large Luftwaffe cap atop her long flowing pink hair. Her eyes glare deeply at the Britannian men before her, as cold as the ice outside, her scowl intensely disapproving. 

                “We found these Britannians while on patrol in Sector Seventeen Sturmbannführer Marseille. They had crashed so we offered our assistance.” Ursula explains, giving a rapid salute to her superior officer, a barely noticeable twinge of apprehension or maybe disloyalty in her tone. 

                “Hmpf! You shouldn't have bothered, it was a waste of fuel.” Hanna dismisses callously, flipping her shining hair behind her back majestically. These strange, almost angry words from an ace Lynn had heard so much about during the war comes as something of a shock, and she can't help but nudge past the small scientist to speak with Marseille herself. 

                 “Excuse me Ms Marseille! It’s a pleasure to meet you again.” Lynn blurts out, not quite thinking through her formal introduction. This doesn't seem to matter however as almost immediately upon noticing her presence the Stars whole personality flips and a huge smile appears on her previously dominant face.

                  “My, my, if it isn't Lynette Bishop of the 501st Joint Fighter Wing! I was not expecting to see you here, but now it all makes sense: you're leading these men, of course.” The grinning woman beams, rapidly taking Lynn’s hands for a tight and powerful handshake. The sudden change in tone and close contact is something of a whiplash for the sometimes socially awkward witch, whose face begins to burn with anxiety and embarrassment. Luckily for her; Rhys, unhappy with the Karlslanders' unfounded assumption, moves to assert his rightful command over his unit. 

                  “Actually I am in command here! Captain Dafydd Rhys, SAS, any questions you have shall go to me, Commander.” he booms loudly, his intense energy and powerful stature washing over almost everyone in the room, Britannian or Karlslander alike. All bar Marseille that is, who simply stares almost eye to eye with the rouged, mountain of a man, unmoved, unfazed. 

                  “You let this… man, boss you around Ms Bishop?” Hanna asks coldly, towering over the fidgeting Lynn like an ebony colossus. 

                  “He is my commanding officer after all…” she stutters in confusion. A heavy aura of uncomfortability, of suffocating tension hangs in the air. For a moment it is as if all sound has vanished from the world, and even the wind outside becomes imperceptible, until the deafening silence is thankfully broken by Ursula chirping to life.

                 “Commander Marseille, one of the Britannians is badly injured and needs to be seen by one of our healing witches right away.” the tiny girl forces out, standing to attention as if she were on parade. The silence returns as Marseille seems to scan her eyes over all the new unexpected arrivals before her. 

                “Fine...” she eventually concedes, nonchalantly picking at her nails as though this whole situation were beneath her. “You men take him to the clinic, and be quick about it. I’m only allowing this as a courtesy to our guest; the fighter ace Ms Bishop. The rest of you Britannians can wait in the mess hall until we find a way of getting you out of here.” she continues, turning away to return to her office somewhere further within the HQ. The tension breaks as she leaves, Cobbler heaving a heavy sigh of relief and Lynn spinning around to shoot a concerned and confused look at Ursula, who simply looks down at the floor in shame.  

                  The radio centre is one of the most secure and sturdy buildings in the whole of New Swabia, effectively a solid concrete bunker with a super-tall radio mast towering high above. From its criss-crossing steel girders hang countless icicles, some even pointing completely horizontal. A tattered and frosty weather sock waves frantically in the wind as a gust of mist blasts into the facility like a shockwave. Luckily the inside is well lit and well heated, allowing Ursula to finally take off her cumbersome gloves and begin to tune one of the radio receivers.

                  “It really should be Commander Rhys who should contact our fleet. He’s quite unhappy about it.” Lynn says as she looks over the bulky equipment strewn about the bunker. 

                  “I’m afraid Marseille doesn't trust your friends. She’ll only allow you to call your ships. I’m sorry.” Ursula admits.

                   “I remember meeting Marseille back in Romagna. I know she was eccentric but… was that normal back there? She seems strange.” Lynn asks quietly, choosing her words carefully despite the two being the only ones in the small building. 

                    “Not here. We’ll go somewhere more private after we're done. For now just send your message.” Ursula says in a hushed whisper, handing a headset over to Lynn gently. 

                   “Ok, alright. Let’s see: HMS Furious this is Lynette Bishop, come in. HMS Furious this- Ugh! There’s a lot of static.” Lynn calls out over the radio to no avail. 

                   “The storms might still be interfering. Hold on, let me boost the signal a bit.” Says Ursula as she fiddles with knobs and dials until she tunes the frequency just right. 

                   “HMS Furious come in.” Lynn tries once again, soon receiving a crackly, yet understandable response from a fellow Brit on the other end. 

                    “We’re receiving you Ms Bishop! Gosh it’s good to hear from you. The whole ship’s been worried sick. Give me a moment and I’ll patch you through to the Captain.” the ecstatic sounding voice relays. As the signal is re-routed so Lynn can make her report, Ursula hands her a slip of paper with New Swabia’s coordinates scrawled hastily across it. It seems as if Lynn might just make it back to her fleet indeed. 

                    Meanwhile at the base's medical clinic Elliot lays snug in a blue and white striped bed while Cobbler sits on a stool next to him, two mugs of steaming coffee resting on the nightstand. 

                     “What a day eh?” Cobbler sighs as he leans back to relax. 

                     “I weren’t expecting to end up in a Karlsland hospital, that's for sure. Well I can't knock it though; those healers of theirs sure did a brill job.” Elliot replies, shuffling his now mended legs beneath the bed sheets. They still feel a bit numb, but the witches assured him it would pass. 

                     “We got lucky…” Cobbler admits glumly. Hoping to lighten the mood a bit; Elliot soon shifts to sit up against his pillows as he pulls something from inside his jacket. The sound of rustling paper catches Cobbler’s attention as he notices his friend had taken one of the magazines from the snow cruiser. It’s a bit warped now from being rolled up inside Elliot’s coat, but readable enough.

                    “What are you doing!? You can't just take their stuff!” Cobbler worries. 

                    “It’s fine, I ain't taking it with me. I’ll leave it here. Anyway that don't matter, look at this.” Elliot retorts, flipping the pages open. Inside are several high quality promotional photographs, all of witches, and in colour too. Propaganda from back in the war no doubt. Elliot turns the pages until he lands on one proudly showing off a short, blonde haired witch wearing a Karlsland aviation uniform. With his curiosity piqued, Cobbler leans over the side of the bed to get a better look. 

                  “Hey, is that the girl who rescued us?” he asks excitedly. 

                  “That's what I thought, but no. This is Erica Hartmann, that girl's sister. She was an ace in the 501st, the same wing that Ms. Bishop was in. Here, take a look.” Elliot says, handing the magazine over. As Cobbler scans his way through the wrinkled pages he can't help but wonder if Lynette misses her old squad mates. 

                  “They all look so happy together.” he says, stopping on a large spread displaying the 501st in all their glory. “Look, there’s Lynn. I wonder what they’re all up to now?” 

                    Back outside Lynn and Ursula exit from the snow blasted radio bunker, the tall mast above them creaking and groaning in the wind. 

                    “It’ll take a few hours until your people can send a plane this way, but at least they know where you are now.” Ursula chuckles, her glasses fogging over suddenly. 

                   “Thank you for helping us out, Ursula. I really appreciate it.” Lynn smiles.

                   “Always. Now c’mon, there’s somewhere we should go.” chirps the small Karlslander as she takes Lynette's mittened hands. Together they trudge through the base, dense snow crunching like autumn leaves beneath their feet until they reach the motor pool. Outside sits the familiar sight of a snow cruiser, its gigantic red chassis coated in patches of frosty ice crystals. 

                   “Are we going somewhere?” Lynn asks with a confused look. 

                  “I wanted somewhere a bit more private to talk with you about things. This is snow cruiser Nebel, the second one I designed. It’s a little different than the first, it’s not built as a recon or science vehicle. Let's go inside, it’s freezing out here.” Ursula explains, not really clearing up any of Lynn’s confusion. With the turn of a key the large red door slides down, a mechanical hiss blowing out of vents as the pistons contract. It's a steep climb into the cabin, but together the pair help each other ascend. Lynette can't help but be amazed by the interior, a place rather different compared to the vehicle they arrived in. This snow cruiser appears smaller, or at least more segmented, and it has brilliant wooden panelling lining the walls and floor. There’s a strange, sweet scent to the air, a homely, cooling atmosphere. 

                     “I designed Nebel as a mobile sauna!” Ursula reveals with giddy excitement. Lynn however can't quite believe what she just heard, asking her friend to reiterate the point. Indeed though she heard correct, being proven whe Ursula opens the wooden door to the inside of the steam room. “I became fascinated by these things after a trip to Soumous after the war, and I really wanted one. I did have to bluff to the military about the cruiser's true purpose, but the base enjoys it so I’m happy.”

                    Lynn had, of course, experienced a sauna many times before, having one all the way back at the 501sts base in Britannia. Nonetheless she is overcome with a powerful feeling of embarrassment at the idea of climbing into this box, naked with someone she only really knows through a friend. Regardless of how Lynn may feel however, Ursula is already stripping down, turning to wave Lynn on to do the same. 

                    “C’mon Lynn, just try it out. I promise it’s really refreshing after the bitter cold outside.” Ursula grins, placing her glasses down on a shelf next to her clothes. Lynette shifts on the spot for a while, her knees aching, eyes avoiding the sight of a stark naked Ursula who is tending to the sauna stones. A sudden blast of icy wind through the open door and a sharp pain in her back pushes Lynn over the edge. She’s been active for a very long while now, and the panic of the Anson crash did take a toll on her body. She deserves to unwind. 

                Taking off her jacket, Lynn disrobes slowly, reaching behind her back to unclasp her bra gingerly. With maid-like cleanliness she folds her clothes neatly on the shelf below Ursula’s, her white panties sitting in plain view atop the pile before she steps into the steam room and closes the door behind her. 

                Inside the temperature is already rising, however Lynn can't quite tell if it's from the steam or her own embarrassment just yet. She takes a seat next to Ursula against the wall, covering herself modestly. 

                 “Doesn't that just feel wonderful? I can see why the rest of the Strike Witches loved these things.” Ursula says as she lets out a sigh of relief. “Now, I didn't bring you in here just to relax. Although you probably should, you look tense. Get those shoulders down.” she nudges. 

                 “What do you need to talk about that needs this level of privacy?” Lynn asks, lowering her arms to reveal her voluptuous chest. Ursula is momentarily overcome with amazement. She hadn't realised Lynn was quite that large under her jacket. The pettit, flat scientist almost feels jealous. But that feeling is fleeting and Ursula quickly snaps back to answer her busty friend.

                 “It's about Hanna. You were asking if she’s normally like that.” Ursula says quietly, crossing her legs to subdue her own nerves, an obvious uncomfortability falling over her. “What do you know of The Coven International?” she asks. Lynn is taken aback slightly by this question, she hadn't expected them to be involved, however it does make sense. 

                  “Oh that's not good. I don't like them.” Lynn mutters. “I don't know that much, they don't have a big presence in Britannia, only a small party led by… uhh Emilly Mosley I think. But I’ve read that they’re bigger on the continent.” 

                 “They are. Especially in Karlsland. It's a group of witches who believe the only reason humanity survived the war against the Neuroi is because of them. That mankind would have been doomed without them, and thus: witches should be in control of humanity.” Ursula explains as beads of sweat begin to roll down her cheeks. 

                “But that doesn't make any sense at all!” Lynn remarks. “Witches needed tons of support all the time. We couldn't have done it alone.”

                “That’s not what the Coven believes. Witches can do anything. That’s their motto. And Hanna got sucked into it. Lots of witches have.” 

                “What about Erica?” Lynn asks cautiously. 

                “Thankfully no. I think she can see it for what it is. She says it reminds her of something from… that incident. The Coven International is dangerous. They don't just want witches in control, they believe themselves to be superior to all those who can't use magic. That's why Marseille was so rude to your men when we arrived. She’s grown to almost hate people who aren't like her, who aren’t witches.” Ursula whispers, nervously rubbing her neck. “This whole expedition for us was bankrolled by the Coven. I didn't know at the time. The only reason there are men here at all is because the Karlsland Government demanded it. But the CI is gaining power within the Reichstag, speaking out against them is becoming dangerous, and you saw how imposing Hanna can be. I’m worried, Lynette.” Ursula admits with a deep hint of fear to her tone.  Karlsland is changing, the world is changing…

                 “I’m really sorry Ursula. I want to help you get through this but… what can I do?” Lynn says comfortingly, placing a warm, moist hand on Ursula’s shoulder. 

                 “There’s nothing you can do. Let's just try and get you guys home and not do anything to piss Marseille off.” Ursula sighs, smiling back at the sweaty Britannian. Lynn nods a friendly, understanding smile and the pair sit back for a while in silence, allowing the steam and the heat to wash away the heavy darkness that had permeated the air. 

                  Pearls of glistening sweat roll down the girls bodies, tracing across their skin, rolling into crevasses, into their bellies and Lynn’s cleavage. Ursula relaxes with a deep exhale, opening her legs to expel the heat from her thighs, her bald womanhood gleaming a smooth shine. It would seem Ursula is maturing rather slowly, quite the late bloomer. 

                   After a long while soaking in the boiling air of the sauna the two witches finally decide it’s time to withdraw. Ursula quenches the fire supplying the rocks with heat and they both begin to dry themselves off with comfy, fluffy towels in the dressing area. Lynn has to admit; that was a wonderfully relaxing experience, at least once the embarrassment had worn out and the serious topics were over. It has been such a long time since she had the opportunity to bond with a fellow witch like that, it almost felt nostalgic. 

                   The duo quickly re-dress, not wanting to be overcome with cold. Ursula has no issue, however Lynn is not so lucky. Her panties are gone. She searches around the small room, maybe they had blown somewhere? They were sitting right on top of her uniform, she remembers. 

                  “Not good, not good!” she mutters under her breath. Noticing her predicament Ursula also gives a hand in searching for the missing undergarments. It’s only after checking every corner that the Karlslander finally looks out the door to see something humorously unfortunate. Calling Lynn over neither one can quite believe what they are seeing.

                   Outside, not too far away, stands a penguin. It should be a fantastic sight as this is the first time either girl has ever seen one of these magnificent birds, however what is immediately noticeable about this visitor is what it clutches in its pointy black beak - a pair of white panties with a small green bow at the front. 

                   Ursula bursts into a fit of hysterical laughter, bracing herself against the door of the snow cruiser. Lynette meanwhile stares ahead in shock horror. Those are her only pair. Surely she can't go outside like this, there are men on this base after all. And what if Commander Rhys see’s her? 

                   “Ursula, could you please go and get them back for me?” The exposed girl begs. After the bespeckled scientist calms down she nods a reassuring “sure” and takes a step out of the colossal cruiser. Unfortunately almost as soon as the girl steps foot on the snowy ground the large flightless bird notices her. A moment of tense apprehension hangs in the air just before the penguin takes off, sliding on its belly away from the blond Karlslander at speed.

                    “Hey! Wait!” she yells loudly, giving chase. After a second of hesitation Lynn also joins the pursuit, despite her naked lower half. She jumps down into the snow, pulling her legs through the dense powdery carpet as she tries to catch up to Ursula. 

                    “Get it Hartmann!” Lynn shouts, desperately trying to cover the distance. Despite the girl's best efforts the slippery penguin is surprisingly agile, gliding over the surface of the ground with ease like some kind of avian torpedo. It stops and stands up several times, looking back as if mocking its perusers before zipping away once more. “Please Mr. Penguin, give them back!” Lynette cries out in a hopeless bargain, tumbling and tripping every now and then as she tries to keep her jumper pulled down over herself. 

                    Before long the pair have left the base and the snow cruiser behind them, their footprints trailing off into the distance. Its exhausting work, with the winds bashing against them as they run, however soon the bird comes to a complete stop. The girls continue to race towards it, the panties still waving like a flag in its beak. 

                    “We’ve got you now fish-bird!” Ursula laughs as they get closer and closer… until the penguin disappears over the edge of the large snowdrift it was standing atop. “Oh c’mon!”

                    By the time the witch's reach the top of the bank the bird had already slid all the way down the other side and is now waddling about triumphantly. 

                    “Look at him. No wonder they’re called Emperors, the smug thing.” Ursula jokes, catching her breath. Noticing that further ahead of their position lays the edge of the ice shelf directly into the ocean this is the last chance they have to rescue Lynette's pants. “Any ideas Lynn?” Ursula asks. 

                    “Just… One…” Lynn huffs and puffs. She’s never liked running. At least Mio isn't here to scold her for her terrible cardio. After some deep breaths Lynn bends down and scoops up a wad of snow, compacting it into a firm and spherical snowball. Ursula looks on confused, but highly curious. 

                    “You wont hit it from here.” she says. “It’s way too far.”

                    “Just watch me.” Lynette retorts. She pulls her arm back like a pro baseball player, tensing her muscles, focusing her eyes on the dapper tuxedo bird several hundred metres away, her underwear still held tight in its maw. Then: she lets it rip, throwing the ball of snow at maximum speed at her target. It cascades through the air, generating a small shockwave as it blasts forward. The penguin is surely overcome with utter terror as it instantaniously drops the white fabric and slides out of the missiles way. It retreats at speed towards the cliff just as the snowball impacts the ground upon where it stood, the panties laying in the snow like an utterly bizarre trophy. “Success!” Lynn celebrates, hugging Ursula who looks shocked that Lynn has such power. 

                  “How did you?...” the girl stutters. 

                  “It's my magic. In the war I used it to increase the velocity of my bullets, but really I can use it on anything I want.” Lynn answers with a grin. Ursula stands dumbfounded for a good moment before giving a hearty chuckle. 

                  “Well that's good to know. Let's grab your pants.” she remarks. 

                  As the two begin to take their first steps towards Lynn’s clothing however a concerning noise catches their ear. A low rumbling, cracking and snapping sound. Below their feet they begin to feel a shaking sensation and from the snowballs impact crater several violent jets of ice shoot high into the air. The girls fall over, resting their backsides into the snow drift as they watch the unthinkable happen: the ground below Lynette's panties collapses, falling inwards on itself like a sinkhole, before erupting into a gigantic mushroom-cloud plume of icy shards and dust. The collapse shakes the whole area even back to New Swabia, shaking the lights in Marseilles office and rattling the coffee mugs of Cobbler and Ellis.

                   The disaster lasts only moments however it’s an awe inspiring sight. After the cloud of debris clears and the rumbling stops, the surface where the penguin once stood has completely disappeared. A huge hole, up to twenty metres across has opened in its place. The witches look at one another in stunned silence. What on earth just happened? They clamber to their feet and tentatively make their way down the rest of the hill towards the chasm. They dare not get too close for fear of falling in, as they can still hear the odd chunk of ice break off and smash to pieces deep in the opening. Quite disappointingly as well, Lynn’s panties are nowhere to be seen.     

                    Several minutes later, as the two are still inspecting the collapse, the sound of barking dogs catches their attention. Looking up they spy a crowd gathering at the crest of the hill, most standing upon their dog-drawn sleds, Hanna Marseille at the forefront looking just as incredibly shocked as everyone else.