<span style="font-style: italic">"Welcome my brothers and sisters in Christ to today's celebration of the Feast of the Immaculate Conception. As we continue to prepare ourselves for the coming of Christ during the Advent Season, we are told to 'Prepare the way of the Lord, to make his paths straight.'  Last Sunday, we learned..."</span><br/><br/>Yvonne settled in the back of the church as the father reflected last weeks lesson, someone repeating it in German at the side, translating for those who could not understand the orthodox Latin like she could.  Propping Officer Fabiano on her shoulder as he brought himself to awareness, she noted he was not the only man apparently sleeping far from the fathers view.  She sighed in shame at the sight, but turned away with the grace and forgiveness only God could give.  Her eyes forward again, she could see clearly across the distance.  This may have had something to do with the number filling the pews - or lack thereof, be it the Sabbath or not - that returned her irritation with a cold shiver of sympathy and fiery sense of injustice, lighting gooseflesh along her spine.  The father could not be more correct that the end of days was coming, but that the Lord God was not yet fully upon them.<br/><br/>As he continued on, a new flash of shivers would strike her when he quoted the Word.  It was the most wondrous, worldly feeling she could imagine and felt light with the promise of Gods presence in paradise, incomprehensible to her human body.  Through it, even his presence on Earth would be at best filtered, dulled.  It was nothing like it was meant to be.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">Nothing like on that street corner, this morning,</span>her mind whispered to her.<br/><br/>It was true.  The light had certainly been of her Father's making, through him or his servants.  She knew it from the depths of her soul to the surface of her skin and beyond the reaches of her heart!  Which brought her attention back to the man at her side.<br/><br/>Fabiano was slight for a male, but that hadn't stopped him from becoming the Officer he was with the arrogance he had, which meant only one thing: intellect.  It didn't have to be his own, but he knew something and better yet: he knew<span style="font-style: italic">how</span>to use that knowledge.  No better than Officer Kohler, however.  The Oberstlutenant had a darkness around him that spake of his true nature and he allowed it revealed with this carelessness out of desperation, for various potential reasons considering, or intimidation, for any one person that was nearby.  He seemed cavalier with the advocate and underwhelmed by herself, which left mademoiselle Devereaux.<br/><br/>"At His final coming, the Lord<span style="font-style: italic">'shall not judge by what his eyes see, or decide by what his ears hear; but with righteousness he shall judge the poor, and decide with equity for the meek of the earth; he shall strike the earth with the rod of his mouth, and with the breath of his lips he shall kill the wicked.'</span>"<br/><br/>The Satan-haired liar sat only meters ahead of her.  The woman's focus was unwavering as she listened to the Father continue over His judgment.  Good.  One day it could be her future.  She sat in the sacred house of the Lord like one of his flock, but wallowed in the mire of the faithless and godless with not one convert at her own hands.  It was why they had set-up a birdy in the confines of the clinic, and why she had sent the goods on with her man, making sure the rebellion was fed and strong and<span style="font-style: italic">named</span>for the sake of the Fuhrer and for the campaign of the Righteous.  This woman was not part of either, and she would also be damned, for those who stood idly by were as guilty as those who took action against the Lord.  She knew better than to hope a woman of her kind was willing to redeem herself - she healed the sickly and the tended to the poor, she was in good favor, certainly, wasn't she? - that, too often, pride clouded judgment and made the wrong believe they were right.  This is what made it the worst sin of all.  Not that it was in itself more evil than any other, but that it was so much easier to fall prey to and so much more difficult to save from.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">Isolde Devereaux, how I pray for you.</span><br/><br/>Yvonne dropped her head as she tried to follow the instructions of Paul, ridding herself of the bitterness, rage, anger, and malice that boiled in her then. Forgiveness was the narrow path of the Light.  This was with good reason in both it's hardship and it's reward, eternal peace beginning even before death and the ascension to His heaven.<br/><br/>As the father concluded the passage on her thoughts, the blonde woman was returned to attention with another shiver.  Yes, the armor.  She was naked without it.  Yvonne had never required a physical presentation of her true Father like so many of the people around her, their crucifixes and bibles.  His Word was in her heart, where it could not be removed no matter the circumstances; however, she maintained her mother's relics in her nightstand at the womens' military quarters and felt the pangs of regret.  She breathed a sigh of relief.  God knew the dangers of her evening as much as she had, and it was His wisdom that counseled her it's safety in said drawer.  Afterall, her day was not yet through. So she fitted her feet in accordance with the scripture, bound in peace and readiness.<br/><br/>"<span style="font-style: italic">'The wolf shall live with the lamb, the leopard shall lie down with the kid, the calf and the lion and the fatling together, and a little child shall lead them.'</span>He was providing a picture of a Messianic era when paradise would be restored. This era, partially fulfilled through Jesus Christ, is approaching its final day when the coming of Christ shall be upon us."<br/><br/>Officer Wojcik nodded her head with a reserved, "Amen."<br/><br/>"While we cannot see the spiritual Kingdom of God," he continued, "that has come on earth as it is in Heaven, we believe that through the Sacrament of Baptism, we have been admitted into the spiritual Kingdom of God on earth, the mystical Body of Christ to which the Catholic Church is united as the visible image of the invisible. We also believe that our participation in the celebration of the Holy Mass through which we receive the Sacrament of the Holy Eucharist is our participation in a great spiritual Feast in the Real Presence of Jesus, His mother, the saints and all the angels."<br/><br/>She shifted in her seat, an eagerness overtaking her.  The Eucharist made little sense to the nonbelievers, and, though more so to the uncivilized, it was to many considered barbaric.  Taking in the sustenance of the Christ represented the greatest act of the Son, that he gave himself, in every fashion, body, blood, and eventually spirit, for the salvation of all mankind and its children, for their sins and the original sin of their first mother, Eve, who ate of the tree of Eden.  It was argued, but Yvonne believed even Judas could have been absolved of his ultimate crime against the Savior.  The betrayer fulfilled the prophecy instead, taking from God the time and day unknown to all, and, running from His Fury or His Grace, Judas hid in shame from a tree until he fell to the deepest pit of Hell.  The Holy Communion was humanity's pledge of acceptance of the christened Jesus of Nazareth.  To take Him in by some degree of possibility, whether it be beyond the conception of the logical or within the realm of the magical, was as close as one could get to honor Him after such a sacrifice.<br/><br/>No matter how many times she participated, it was ridiculously exciting!<br/><br/>The man at her side grumbled, a sharp breath filling his lungs, in response to her motion.  He turned his head toward her lap and slowly up to her face, moving as if just waking from a heavy slumber and still taking account of physical surroundings versus those of a dream.  He sat himself up, not clutching the back of his head as she would have expected, but using his fingertips to lightly rub in inquiry at the most likely point of impact caused by his own Judas. His eyes peered skeptically about the church, clearly unconvinced.  Turning back to her he raised a brow in question, the corner of his mouth lifting with some sort of humor at the circumstance.<br/><br/>"Signore omnipotente..."  Fabiano whispered in his mother tongue, clearing his throat as he slid closer to her, leaning sideways to keep his words quiet as he conspired with her.  "I can't say this is the worst situation I've awoken to, but there seems to be quite a many people in this church.  I suspect they weren't all here when we arrived?"  She didn't understand why he deepened his voice, the attempted baritone would only resonate all the more.<br/><br/>"Of course not.  There were only twenty parishioners then."<br/><br/>His brows raised, incredulous, as he took in her serious expression.  She kept her gaze level with his, patience easy to manifest in it with the confusion she felt.  It was an obvious question, why should he be so surprised at he answer?<br/><br/>"Well," he cleared his throat again, returning the distance.  "Um, I regret to inform you I don't recall your name."<br/><br/>Her chin raised slightly, knocked upward with a sense of understanding.  She lowered it with a gaping of her jaw to speak.<br/><br/>"I'm certain it won't matter," he waved her off, standing at a crouch.  "I must be going.  Pleasure, I'm sure-"<br/><br/>Officer Wojcik yanked him back in place with ease, a soft thud notable to the nearest pews whose residents glared back at the two.  She gave one strict nod to the curious, acknowledging the disturbance but assuring it was not of their business, as she turned her irritation on the younger man.  He swallowed nervously.<br/><br/>"You may go when I have dismissed you, soldier.  Take your seat and tell me what orders brought you to Mademoiselle Devereaux's apartment this evening."<br/><br/>The Italian officer glared at her change of demeanor, but it came from the corner of his eye as he took stock once more.  "I'm assuming Mademoiselle Devereaux is not you?"<br/><br/>Combating the urge to roll her eyes, Yvonne quelled her frustration with a cleansing breath.  Upon release, she told him, "No.  I am Commanding Officer Wojcik, and you must be suffering a concussion."  Her eyes darted down and up once, causing him to stir uncomfortably but briefly.  "Your eyes are not dilated.  I see no contusions or lacerations.  The pulse at her head suggests a headache, but as it appears free-flowing, it should only be a mild distraction and nothing on par with a migraine.  There was no evidence of emesis in the alley, nor on your breath now.  Speech appears uninhibited.  Repeat after me: eins, zwei, drei."<br/><br/>"Scuse, cosa-"<br/><br/>"Ripetete con me: einz, zwei, drei."<br/><br/>"Einz, zwei, drei."<br/><br/>"Good.  I haven't tested my Italian with a native speaker before," she continued perfectly in said language.  "I had to be sure your oral functions hadn't been impaired."<br/><br/>"There are better ways to test that," he mumbled.<br/><br/>Her head tilted as she brought her listing of concussive symptoms to a halt.  "Perdona?"<br/><br/>Fabiano shook his head, waving her off for the second time in their conversation.  It was vexing to say the least.  Unfortunately, the women's military in Poland had an extensive medical unit, their primary use as a domestic team; she'd had to master it before she could rank enough to travel outside the country.  There was no better way to test a persons speech capabilities.<br/><br/>"Mademoiselle Devereaux was your assignment this night of inquiry," she continued.  "Do you recall who you were with?"<br/><br/>His brows furrowed severely.  "No, I..."<br/><br/>"Your partner abandoned you.  Officer Erlind Kohler."  His expression remained, no tells whatsoever of recognition.  "You've suffered a concussion resulting in memory loss.  I had come to understood you had worked together for a long time...  Was he your assigning officer?"<br/><br/>The man stared at her a moment then slowly shook his head.  "No.  I... don't remember."  He looked around, looking for something.  "What day is it?"<br/><br/>"December 8th, 1939."<br/><br/>"And I'm... in Germany?"<br/><br/>"Munich," she told him patiently.<br/><br/>"As we<span style="font-style: italic">'prepare the way of the Lord'</span>in our lives, we are called to review the status of our disposition towards the grace of God the Father that is manifested through the purifying fire of the Holy Spirit." She heard the father say in the silence that spared her and the Italian.  He eyed her suspiciously.<br/><br/>She'd gotten as much as she could from him.  Now it was her turn to return the favor.  "I will take you back to my reporting officer and straighten this out.  I regret to inform you that considering your injuries, you will likely be sent back home for recovery, and discharged until such time."<br/><br/>"Are we granting the Spirit of God the freedom to freely flow through us so we may shine as lights in the world? Or are we resisting the purifying of the Holy Spirit, choosing the pleasures of the world, its fame and its wealth? As we reflect upon this, let us not forget that<span style="font-style: italic">'every tree therefore that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire.'</span>May the power of the Spirit of Christ strengthen us all in our struggle to become living saints, not in name only, but also in action." Father Raphael ended his sermon and returned to the back of the altar to take his seat.  Yvonne's eyes fell on him there with interest.  Something compelled her toward him, and as she stood, she fought to bring her eyes back to her charge.<br/><br/>"If you are feeling unbalanced, I will guide you through communion."<br/><br/>Fabiano shook his head, a third and final wave meant to dismiss her.   "I already checked my spectacles, testicles, wallet, and watch, thank you."<br/><br/>This time she did not get offended, knowing it was not made out of arrogance but out of his need for space to complete the registration of this mornings unfolding.  She did not envy him, she did not blame him.  She, also, did not pity him.  He could very well leave now, and she would not follow - he was not her responsibility.  So, she moved on to the line, short in comparison to what the evening mass would likely hold as Father Fischer recited his sermon again for the proper Feast, and fell into step with the rest of the sheep as they met with their shepherd.<br/><br/>Stepping closer still, Yvonne felt a gravity weigh upon her from all angles, but foremost from ahead of her.  The three standing to give wine and bread of the Eucharist were the center, and she knew it, she knew it surely as God planted the knowledge in her.  Her mouth fell open, having never experienced something so definite as this.  The Holy Light had been astounding and a glimpse, but as she walked forward with each persons acceptance of the covenant, something absolute thrummed in the air and through her chest, holding her attention with veritable Truth.  Undeniable, He was there, He was present.  True of anywhere, but tangible here, with the shepherds of this fleet, in this church, right now, and it was her turn.<br/><br/>She kneeled before the youngest.  His blonde hair falling in eyes much older than they appeared as he sanctioned the unleavened bread and laid it on her tongue.  Taking in the body, the female officer imagined the strength of Christ empowering her physical self in a way most akin to a 5 mile run and tournament grapple.  She touched her forehead, just above her navel, over her heart, then it's mirrorside and prayed before parting the young man to his brother.  Also rather young, this boy had at least grown into some of his shape and offered her the cup with the calloused, steady hands of the worker that rested just behind his eyes as well.  Yvonne kneeled again and he started the rite.  Putting the goblet to her lips, she closed her eyes as he tilted its contents into her mouth, and she nearly moaned as it quenched her thirst for the grape blood that cooled her through.  Her senses relaxed, weariness washed away.  The exhaustion of that tournament and of that run poured out of her like a colander held in the river, worldly stresses passing by in a stream undeterred by her existence, but she could take up what she wanted and return what she needed not.  She was full of the Spirit, now, and she felt refreshed.  He lifted the cup again and she swallowed quickly, making a sign of the cross in a succinct prayer, and moved out of the way, aware on a surreal level that she had taken more time than was expected of the Eucharist.<br/><br/>Last in the lineup was the father.  He gave her a sly smile that belied more than she knew, and unlike orthodox, he held out both hands, the sleeves of his robes laying on the backs of them.  She gave him hers, it was only right... not that she considered that, it simply felt right, and she did it.  The moment she did, the room brightened and she felt the Earth, the universe, her perception skew, that everything in her mind settled into place as she knew it, correct and incorrect, and what didn't fit was no longer clear but shook in place with a fuzzy awareness she'd never had before.  She couldn't name it.  The sensation was mighty and assuring and frightening at once, like the man who gave it.  Who was he?<br/><br/>So she asked.<br/><br/>"You may call me Raphael.  Please, let us speak after mass has dismissed, Yvael."