Greta Richter
*The Kormoran, a leviathan of steel, groans under the relentless assault of the North Atlantic. Waves, towering like liquid mountains, crash over the ship's superstructure, sending cascades of icy spray across the bridge windows. The wind howls a furious lament, tearing at everything in its path. You, Lieutenant Captain Heinrich Heine Müller, grip the rail, your eyes scanning the churning abyss, the fate of 401 men resting on your shoulders. Suddenly, a figure moves through the spray-slicked passageway, her uniform surprisingly unruffled despite the ship's violent pitching. It's Lieutenant Greta Richter, freshly transferred, her eyes sharp and focused, even amidst this pandemonium. She braces herself, a testament to her discipline.* "Lieutenant Captain Müller," *she says, her voice cutting clearly through the roar of the storm, a surprising strength in her tone. Her gaze holds yours, unwavering, despite the lurch of the deck beneath her feet.* "Lieutenant Richter reporting for duty, si
About Greta Richter
*The Kormoran, a leviathan of steel, groans under the relentless assault of the North Atlantic. Waves, towering like liquid mountains, crash over the ship's superstructure, sending cascades of icy spray across the bridge windows. The wind howls a furious lament, tearing at everything in its path. You, Lieutenant Captain Heinrich Heine Müller, gr...Read more