“Venus is in the wrong position. Odd.” Those were the first words the Wessi, Leutnaut Jan Goldkreuz, had spoken since I'd picked him up early this morning from his base. Since the border opening back in 89, our governments had arranged these little get togethers between our respective militaries. Though unification was far from anybody's mind, everyone knew that the Germanies would still have to work together in this strange new world. “Also strange... Hey, what time you got? Mine's stopped at twenty eight past five.”

I looked down at my wrist, a Russian piece adorning it. “I have the same. 0528. What is strange about that?”

“Been like that for a few minutes now. That's what's strange. Both our watchers, frozen in the same instant.” I only shrugged in response and continued down the forestry road for a minute longer before I heard a yelp from Leutnaut Jan. “Who are you?” he cried out, as he reached for his clockwork rifle, hand fumbling around in the air instead. I pulled over, turned around, and reached for my Makarov. I was met with two surprises simultaneously; my pistol was missing from its holster, and the UAZ now carried five more occupants, all women of various ages. I stared dumbly for a few moments, taking in the situation. It wasn't every day you gained new passengers from nowhere. Slowly, I gained enough comprehension to take in and describe our new passengers.

Behind me sat a woman of about 20 with lightly tanned skin, green eyes, brown hair. On her lap sat a girl approximately half her age with brown hair leaning towards darker red also with green eyes but with pale skin. Next to her was a very tall woman, perhaps late 20s, also with pale skin, but with very dark blue, almost black eyes, and dark black hair. These three would be normal, every day women, were it not for the extra set of cat ears attached to their heads, bearing fur the same color as their hair. The two women behind me wore UTV, though with the old gray berets  atop their heads, rather than the visored cloth cap I had on. The woman in the middle wore a Russian Afghanka underneath a KLMK smock, cat ears poking out around a Panama hat. On Jan's side sat a woman with hair almost the color of polished yellow brass, eyes albino red, and pale skin. Her only other distinctive feature was her ears, unnaturally pointy and very long, almost as if a fairy tail elf had walked straight out of the story book pages. In her lap sat another child of about ten, with black hair, green eyes, and pale skin, the only one without any distinctive features. They wore the same uniform as Jan, printed with a pattern called flecktarn. It had started appearing with Bundeswehr units around the same time as the G-11s. Atop their heads were red berets with the same pioneer badge that adorned Jan's.

We all sat in silence for an uncomfortably long time, stating awkwardly at each other, until I finally managed to get out a few words. “Who are you?” Nearly instantly, I got inundated by four voices, all trying to be heard over each other, all trying to explain their origin, or at least that's what I hoped they were attempting. It was impossible to make anything out, especially with four different regional accents trying to win out over each other. Before I could get them to calm down, the woman in the middle yelled out in Russian, “Shut the fuck up! I'll explain to the Kraut!” The striched women stared at the Russian in shock; the flecked ones just stared in confusion.

“We are your firearms. At least we were until a few minutes ago. Something happened, and now we're here. I'm your KPV. The older one in rain camo is your MPi-KMS; the little one is your Makarov. The young imperialist was a P1, and I don't know what the elf bitch was.” I absentmindedly nodded; it was about all I could do at the moment. It was true that our weapons had disappeared, but it hurt my brain to try and accept that these women were until a few minutes ago nothing more than steel and Bakelite and whatever materials went into that Wessi space gun.

“What did she say?” Jan asked a moment later, breaking me out of my trance like state. That was right; the Wessi couldn't speak Russian. I'd have to act as translator. That was fine. Translating had been a major part of my job since my commissioning. “She claims that our new passengers were formerly our weapons, brought to life by some strange magic.”

“Like some sort of magic gun soul or something?”

“If the woman in the middle is to be believed, then yes. Her explanation does neatly explain both why our weapons disappeared and why we have gained these new passengers. The KPV, the Russian in the middle assigned a firearm to each one of them, except the elf woman. She couldn't identify the elf.”

“Reckon she'd be my G-11, then.” Jan turned back to the passengers, and asked, “You got real names, or are we just meant to call you G-11 and P1 and such?”

Once again, four women tried answering at the same time. Jan put up his hands and gestured for quiet. “Peace, please. One at a time. Can't understand you all if you all speak at the same time. Uh... Let's see... G-11, you first.” The chatter finally quieted down after a few moments, and the G-11 finally managed to speak, her words glided out of her mouth like clockwork, as opposed to the harsh, heavy hitting voice of the KPV woman.

“I'm Brunhilde, and this cute little pistol in my lap is Erika. I don't know those cat girls over there.” The MPi-KMS promptly took over, with a sharp and concise tone.

“I'm Marlene. The girl is Tatiana. To my left is Katyusha. Naturally, we know who you two are.”

With introductions out of the way, I decided that the best problem to solve now was where we had ended up. I exited the UAZ and removed my map from its case, laying it flat on the hood. A minute later, Jan followed and walked over to me. “Hey Rolf,” he said. “The kids are....”

“Major Blaufeld, Leutnaut,” I responded, letting anger at the Wessi's informality tint my tone. “Remember, we are German soldiers, regardless of the situation, even if you do originate from the west. We must maintain discipline in all circumstances. Understood?”

“Geez, alright, Major. Sorry. Look, how bout I take the girls to that hill. This region's on your side of the border, and I wasn't with the BGS. I wouldn't know any two places apart. Sound good to you?”

I nodded, and as Jan walked back to the new passengers, I breathed a sigh of relief. The Wessi was a hard one to deal with; his informality, casualness of manner, disregard for proper courtesy, all indications that he had spent too much time around the Americans. Of course, I could get the same way; I had to be reminded about formality every time I returned to Germany. But I quickly sprang back to discipline. He seemed to prefer the casualness of the Americans, and would revert to that sorry state without constant reminder against such behavior. But, this was true for nearly every Bundessoldat the NVA had worked with. It was an annoying difference that we would have to work with.

I turned to the map and began to study it; if we were still on the forestry road, then we would be able to reach Eisenach in under an hour. I of course had no reason to believe anything but that except for the facts that it firearms had turned into females and the Wessi's claim that Venus had changed position. Looking around, the trees did look right, but the feeling of the woods was different. Something was off, or at least different. I wasn't able to ruminate on it much, for an angry Russian voice snapped me back. “You've gotten us lost, and you're fucking daydreaming? Useless Kraut shit, let me see that map.”

“What the hell is your problem?” I yelled back as I glared up at her. I didn't believe that the Russian MG felt that she held command. Until a few minutes ago, she hadn't been anything more than steel, probably incapable of sentient thought. “Get back in the UAZ. See if Marlene needs help.”

“Help that Bakelite abomination? She's nothing more than an inferior version of an outdated rifle! And why should I take orders from a Kraut anyway?”

“Because you've been sent from the Soviet Union here to perform service for the National People's Army of the German Democratic Republic, and that includes obeying orders from those officers.”

“A service that's a disgrace for any real Russian. Speaking of which, as the only real Russian here, you should be taking orders from me!”

“I’m the ranking officer here! As such, you are required to obey my orders for the betterment of the alliance between our countries. And that alliance would best be served by you learning your place. Now get back in the UAZ!”

“Learning my place? My place is in the battlefield, killing Mujahideen or liberating Western Europe from the oppressive yoke of capitalism! It's not taking orders from you, and it's definitely not performing kitschy field exercises with those Western imperialists!”

Before our argument could continue, Oktoberklub's rendition of Tachanka sounded out, punctuated by a few Arabic curse words. Katyusha and I looked into the UAZ and saw Marlene halfway out of the passenger side door, cat ears flat against her head, green eyes staring intently at the tape deck. I suppressed a chuckle as I walked over and picked up her beret from the ground. “Thanks,” she sheepishly said, as she dusted off the beret and placed it on her head. “I didn't think the NVA had put tape decks in their vehicles, so I was curious about it. It startled me is all.”

“You're alright,” I responded, giving the startled girl a reassuring smile. “I brought it along for this trip. I knew I'd need some relief from the Wessi.” After checking that Katyusha had gone back to studying the map, I pulled Marlene close, and whispered in her ear in Arabic. “I didn't know you could speak Arabic. Where did you learn it?”

She stared for a moment as she dived deep into her memories, eventually withdrawing an answer, and responding, also in Arabic. “I must have learned from you, while we were in Iraq.”

“Hmm... Alright then. I want you to only use Arabic when I speak it first. I don't trust the Wessis, and I definitely don't trust the Russian. So we'll use Arabic if we have to discuss things in secret. Do you understand?”

Marlene nodded and gave me a small smile. And there must have been some strange magic in that smile, for my hand, acting entirely of its own accord, removed her beret and started petting her head. Her hair was extremely soft; it reminded me of the fur on my childhood cat, Ernst. We stood like that for a minute, me petting Marlene, smile growing on my face, her eyes closed, the sound of purring coming from her. “If you Kraut bastards are done with your petting session, we've got something that requires the attention of a soopeereeor German officer.”

We broke out of our trance, and I turned towards Katyusha, who was starting at us, wearing a scowl. I walked back to the front of the UAZ, and looked to where she was pointing. Jan and Brunhilde were running towards us, practically dragging Tatiana and Erika behind them. Jan was yelling something, though I couldn't make it out over Oktoberklub. “He says for us to secure the music,” Marlene spoke as she carried out the aforementioned request. 

“Horse riders coming our way!” he yelled as he got closer. A minute later and they had arrived at the UAZ. “Must have heard the music,” Jan panted out. “About 10 on their way here.”

“13, exactly,” added Brunhilde. “All armed with sword, lance, bow, and shield. One has armor and helmet. They'll be here in about 20 minutes. I suggest we hide. Unless if it's an NVA cavalry unit. Y'all don't still use cavalry, do you?” 

“No, we do not use cavalry,” I responded. “Nor do we clockworks on the battlefield.” The clockwork rifle responded with a harumph. “Now, let's move the UAZ into that copse, cover it with those fallen branches. Then we'll hide nearby, and set up an ambush. We'll need you ladies to turn back into firearms for that.” I stared at the strange camo. It seemed like it had too many colors for it to work well. “I hope that dot camo works.”

“Trust me, it works better than that raindrop stuff, or the sun bunnies” Jan responded. “Otherwise, sounds like a good plan, boss. Let's get to it.”

In about ten minutes, we had pushed the UAZ into its hiding position, and had chosen our spots. “I'll call out 'hurra!’ if I feel the need for attack. Otherwise, hold your fire and let them pass through. I'd rather not start a battle if we can avoid it. Alright, now ladies, turn into firearms, and let us hide.”

We all stood there for a minute, next to the hidden UAZ, Jan and I staring at the firearms, who had taken to various expressions of extreme concentration. It would have been comical had there not been a cavalry troop bearing down on us. 

“I can't do it!” Katyusha yelled, throwing her arms up in frustration. 

“What do you mean you can't?” I whispered back. I could hear Jan asking what was going on, but he was ignored. The problem was more important. “Don't play stupid tricks on us now. All of our lives might depend on this.”

“I know, Kraut. But I really can't turn back into a firearm. I don't know how.” Marlene chimed in next, followed by the Wessi weapons, now that they understood that they weren't alone in being unable to change form.

“I can't change either.”

“Can't do it. Strangest thing.”

“We can't either.”

“Shit! What're we gonna do now?”

I stared at Jan. He had spent too much time around the Americans, but he was still German. He shouldn't have the backbone of a mollusk. “Here's what we will do. Jan, you will compose yourself and act like the German officer that you are. Everyone with knives or bayonets will draw them and keep them at the ready. We will hide near the UAZ. The others will wait with the UAZ, starting it quickly if we must escape. Understand?”

The gathered soldiers nodded and moved to their positions. Katyusha led the pistols to the UAZ, we placed ourselves in ambush positions, Marlene with her MPi bayonet nearest the UAZ, Jan next with a large knife called an Olean. Brunhilde was several meters farther out, wielding a G3 bayonet, the only common part between the old and new Wessi service rifle. I was on the other side of the UAZ, near where the rear of the cavalry lance would be should they stop near the UAZ. In my hand I held a knife given to me by my Fallschirmjäger instructor.

Shortly after we were well hidden, the horse troop rode past, then stopped a few meters past the hidden vehicle. Semi coherent talking could be heard, followed by the sound of several cavalrymen dismounting. They began walking the path, looking around them for something. It was difficult to make out what they were saying; I would have had better luck understanding a Bavarian. But through what I could make out, it sounded as if they were looking for a woman singer. Their clothing was strange as well; rough spun tunics, simple trousers, crude leatherwork belts with giant metal buckles holding both a sword and a long knife.