Tyranny of Steel
chapter-1222

A group of German soldiers leaned against their JLTV as they drank from their hydration packs with exhausted expressions on their faces. They had been born and bred in the cold climate of mother Europe. To be stationed in this sandpit was perhaps the most gruelling outpost a German soldier could be assigned to. And yet, that was their job.

So the two men continued to wait, and guard the excavators which pumped Arabia's oil out of the ground, and into the German war machine. Why they couldn't just do this while sitting in the vehicle, with their air conditioning? None of them knew, but they were forced to patrol the area on foot. All the while a sniper sat in the guard tower, watching the horizon for potential hostile activity.

Among these two soldiers was a young man, barely eighteen years old, who was clearly just out of high school. The man could not help but complain about the heat, as he drank nearly half of his hydration pack in one go.

"God dammit! I wanted to be deployed to Africa so I can fight some savages. Why the hell am I here in this godforsaken desert?"

The other soldier simply smirked as he lit a cigarette and began to smoke like it was his last day. After doing so, he responded to the green soldier with a big of snark in his tone.

"Guess your rifle scores were shit, now weren't they? How the hell do you suck that bad when basic marksmanship is part of the school system's curriculum?"

Since the war with Japan ended, the German Cadet Corps had been merged with the National School System as part of every male student's curriculum, it was no longer optional to join the German Cadet Corps, or the Junior Reserve Officer Training Corps as it was now known. It was mandatory.

The man who was speaking to this fresh recruit was a veteran of several colonial dustups himself, and had taken a position in Arabia, guarding oil rigs, specifically because the pay was superior. And because he got sick and tired of being ambushed in the jungle every time he went out on patrol.

With modern German protective equipment, it was extremely difficult to kill a German soldier with stone arrows. One would basically have to hit them square in the eyes, or in the femoral artery to do so. Because not only were their skulls protected by modern ballistic composite helmets, but their necks and torsos were covered in ballistic protection, which was more than enough to stop an arrow in its tracks.

The young soldier was just about to retort to the veteran's remark when he noticed something shimmering in the distance. He quickly ignored the veteran's taunts and pointed towards what he saw while expressing his shock.

"Hey, man, do you see that? Something's out there?"

On a hot day like this, it was not exactly easy to see through the hazy air, but after squinting a little, the veteran confirmed something was out in the distance. Which he immediately responded to by pulling out his binoculars and getting a proper visual. After doing so, he was shocked to see a rather small convoy of what appeared to be desert nomads. This caused the veteran to sigh as he got on the comms and reported them to the garrison.

"Potential hostiles spotted at the following coordinates"

After saying this, the veteran listed off a number of accurate coordinates, where he waited for a response by his superior officer. Which came shortly thereafter.

"Roger that. We see them. Weapons hot boys, but do not fire unless the enemy engages you. You know our rules of engagement."

Sure enough, after reaching a certain point, a man sitting on the back of a camel began to wave a white flag. Which the German soldiers immediately took notice of.

"Sir, they're waving a white flag. How should we respond?"

A slight sigh emitted over the comms before the officer in charge of the base spoke up.

"Let's see what they want. Hopefully, we can send them packing with some water..."

After saying this, the small military outpost which was formed around the excavation site opened its gates and waved the Bedouins in. Who among them was none other than Lawrence. He had a particularly anxious expression as he got a close look at the weapons and uniforms that the Germans soldiers now wore, which looked even more advanced than the ones he had seen so many years ago.

Lawrence immediately stepped forward and greeted the garrison commander in Arabic, hoping that the man had a translator around. Luckily enough, the man was also fluent in the language and thus they were able to communicate quite easily.

"My name is Lawrence, and I am here to represent my people, who wish to roam freely in the lands of their ancestors once more!"

The German officer looked at the man with confusion before expressing his most immediate thought.

"Your name is Lawrence.... Isn't that an English name?"

Judging by the fact that he still had his head intact, Lawrence sighed with ease as he nodded his head before informing the man of his situation, albeit while leaving out some critical details about his identity.

"Indeed, it is. Years ago I was part of an army which attacked a canal quite some distance away from here, one that connected the atlantic to the Indian Ocean. Those few men who survived scattered and fled with the winds.

I found myself alone, in the desert, without food or water. I was quickly approaching death when the Bedoin came upon me and offered me their hospitality. But enough about me. I wish to speak about my people, and the rights they have to this land!"

The Officer looked at Lawrence with a bit of confusion; he was naturally aware about the battle the man was speaking of, as were all German citizens, he just was not aware that anyone had actually survived the battle, as the reports stated that there were no survivors left in what was clearly a one sided massacre.

Still, he supposed it was possible, so the officer did not disagree with Lawrence, and instead sighed heavily and shook his head. These desert nomads were speaking about rights to the land? That was way beyond his paygrade. And the last thing he wanted was to get up in a diplomatic mess. Thus, he simply pointed Lawrence in the direction of the nearest embassy.

"I assume you know where Mecca is, yes? It is now under the control of the Iberian Empire, so I suggest you go to Mecca and visit the German Embassy within the city if you wish to file a complaint about the land which we are currently standing on. I would try to deter you by saying how pointless of an endeavor this is, but it appears your minds are made up. I'm a soldier, not a diplomat, so unfortunately I can't help you. But the ambassador in Mecca can."

Lawrence was immediately surprised that the Germans had not just shot them in sight, and even were willing to hear him and his people out. Because of this, he bowed respectfully to the German officer and said farewell before leading his people off to Mecca. Once Lawrence was gone, one of the German soldiers scoffed before voicing his shock.

"Talk about going native! God damn, did you see that guy? I couldn't even tell he was an Englishman!"

After hearing this, the officer in charge snorted before calling the soldier an idiot.

"That's because you're an inbred retard. Of course, he is an Englishman, or at least a European of some kind. His skin may have darkened due to the climate, but you can't mistake those facial features unless your parents were siblings! Now stop lollygagging and get back to work!"

As for Lawrence and his people, they were debating among themselves whether this was a good or bad sign for their tribes. The fact that the German soldiers had not openly fired upon them and were willing to hear them out was a good thing. But to go all the way to Mecca to speak with someone who had the power to make a political decision, well, they just did not understand why the officer could not make a decision for them.

But what would a bunch of desert nomads know about Imperial bureaucracy and modern nation states? Thus, Lawrence and his people began the long treck to Mecca, where they intended to bring their case before the German ambassador.