Topic: 'Paralysed'- Colony cycle

[Onanon]

She woke in his arms.

At least, that's what she had hoped would happen.

Thoroughly conquered, she rose as if afraid to.
'Roy…?'

The Commissar was already gone, his back turned and out the door, jackboots marking his progress up the solitary corridor. The door at the far end closed with a clang. He came, and then he went. Typical.

Ms. Opposite Haze flopped back into the bed, partly from fatigue and partly from a growing sense of shame. She felt dirty and discarded, like a broken doll. The bed that she had planned to wallow in all morning was soiled to her heart. Dragging a tired hand across her face, she got up and went for a shower, hoping that there was still hot water in the tanks.

_

'One in every ten and then another third of those again. Women – in a case like yours.'
The neutron bombs on Telluria-IV had sterilised her. Any attempts at IVF had failed at implantation. Fifteen years of fighting had made her body hostile.

The cold words of Medicae still burned her. Hollow, second hand comforts echoed in her mind. Instruments, repeated intrusions. Brought low again and again. What purpose had she now? The war was over. But the battle for births had just begun.

_

The humming of the powered shower stopped, but the dripping water didn't.
The shower curtain was pulled back, and Haze stepped out of haze. She walked to the sink, naked body obscured by humid air and condensed moisture on the long mirror over the sink. She felt… cleaner, if nothing else. Wiping away the wet on the mirror in great streaks, a petite young woman in her early thirties appeared. Sandy blonde hair, charming green eyes she took from her fathers side and the heart-shaped face of her mother. She was the last living avatar of both families, and felt the weight of dead generations on her shoulders. Atavism demanded soft incubation, so that the family line would live on in her and her child.

'No hope in that…' she sighed. She began to check her body for growths as per the standing orders. No point in dying of cancer having survived the Sabbat World crusades. She looked a little closer in the mirror. The slightest of hair had reappeared on her top lip. She'd bleach it out.

Again, out to the bedroom. She got half dressed, leaving grey fatigues off for now, and went out to the window. She pulled back the curtain. Dead, lifeless, barren rock. She regretted pulling it back.

Haze stopped again by the bedroom dresser, taking out the vox-recorder to fulfil another standing order. She hit record. It crackles in anticipation as she draws breath.

'...Can't make out what has gone wrong.

I can't seem to settle things.
I can't seem to feel easy, either.
It's peace, I tell myself, but it doesn't feel like peace ought to feel...'


She stopped the tape and played it back.

'...Can't make out what has gone wrong.

I can't seem to settle things.
I can't seem to feel easy, either.
It's peace, I tell myself, but it doesn't-'

She stopped the tape. It didn't sound like her.

                          ++END PART ONE+++

[Onanon]

  +++++++++


I sound so different these days, I barely can believe I'm me. If I didn't know better, I could swear I was someone else. Frak, I can't believe... I don't believe I'm me....

Haze stared into breakfast, holding a cup of thick tea to warm her hands. Everyone here was a soldier, dressed in grey fatigues, apart from the Commissariat, who stalked the halls in black stormcoats and ate alone. She knew Roy was somewhere here, and her thoughts wandered to him. He was cold; and could be brutal. He was a Commissar, that was required of him. Still, he was all she had. And back to Anomie... or never back to it...

A loud siren went off over the vox-hailer network. Heads jerked up throughout the mess hall and glances were cast around. People were uneasy already, from the planet, the drugs or the confinement. Several officers began to stand up, but most were reluctant to rise.

An attack. No mistakes, no false calls.
Wait, an attack?!

Haze snapped out of her trance. Identity crisises could wait. For now, at least, she was Master Sergeant Haze and she had duties and a purpose. The table looked to her for leadership, Corporal Egal giving a snort and licking his teeth, eager for a bit of the old ultra-violence. Trooper Glass sighed and rubbed his eyes, his wife, Trooper Enders, putting her hand on his and looking to the floor. 'Heavy Weapons' Nadal and Bleeder joked with each other, no doubt about the field fap competition they had maintained over the past decade. 'Play the game, Steady the aim.'
'One-shot' Domo barely reacted and said nothing. He was still, as ever.

The vox-hailers rang out again, slave servitors relaying the message from the outer observation towers. Dead lips formed words:  'A large Eldar contingent has been sighted approaching. fifteen thousand meters and closing rapidly on outer defences.' The Non-born contingent would be overwhelmed easily, along with the automated defense ring outlying the Geofront and research station. They'd hold them here, on the very doorstep of the last refuge of the people of Anomie. Eldar... one dying race fighting another. Why are they attacking?

As if on cue, the second in command rose from his table.
Major Null was a giant of a man, easily over seven feet tall and weighing four hundred pounds. He was generally regarded as indestructible, having survived a krak missile in the gut, a direct hit from a battle cannon and twenty years in the Exhibition, killing for a prize, another minute to add to the clock. He looked obscene, as if he shaved every morning with a fistfull of broken glass. Black, screaming eyes were testament to the deaths of thousands at his hands. He often joked he was part Ogrn, but he never specified which parts. Other said he was an aborted attempt at a Space Marine, or some sick experiment that was never properly put down. He was they closest thing they all had to a hero.

He slammed through the table with his chainfist, silencing the entire room.
To his left, General Mono didn't flinch. He simply looked at the room over his hands, folded over his mouth. He roared 'YOU ALL HEARD THE VOX-POP[/i], NOW MOVE OUT!!'. Everyone in the room hesitated, maybe stunned by the aural assault. Mono, who still hadn't moved, spoke a single word. 'Go.'

All doubts were banished as the room emptied rapidly, two hundred soldiers spilling down service tunnels to sunken armouries and vehicle hangers. The question in everyone's minds was no longer 'Why are the Eldar attacking?', but 'How are we going to defend against them?'. An emergency signal had been sent out to the Officio Assassinorum facility on the planet, a Culexus Temple used to train recruits in the unique environment on Nihil.

Haze lead her squad into a now open armoury, a data-slab flickering into life with reports of contacts with the outer defences and projected enemy positions. Haze slipped on her moulded carpace armour, hers, no-one else's, and tied up the straps and webbing. With a deep breath she picked up her stubby grenade launcher and loaded up on penetrator krak drums, autoreactive shells strong enough to reduce even a space marine to dog food and incendiary rounds instead of the usual frag.  Nadal and Bleeder broke down the lascannon between them, with Nadal taking the greater load. Enders and Glass had the 'honoured' position of plasma gunners, Glass wincing as the plasma cells whined into life and his wife clucked at his cowardice.
Domo shouldered his sniper rifle and stared at the wall.

Haze took in the info on the unstable data-slab table with a practiced eye. Her squad had been ordered to infiltrate through disused servo-tunnels to flank the body of the Eldar mechanised force. The Commander's orders. She would be supported by four squads of Heavy Non-born infantry. As much as she hated being around them, she was glad for the meat shield. Roy, her Roy, had been attached to a mass of Non-born Conscripts and was to hold the centre against the Eldar witch coven. Wait, that was... that was suicidal! Doubts gnawed at her stomach. Why would Mono throw away a Commissar? Her train of thought was derailed by a buzzing on the com-bead.

She could hear shouts and some swearing in the background. 'Trooper Merirty has gone into labour.' Another outburst in the background. The speaker sighed. 'Meganovi's down here with her as well. Make sure you keep the fighting out of the facility, OK? Birth's a difficult enough process.' The Com-bead went out in a storm of static. She turned to the assembled room. 'Herr Ober just gave me the call. Merity's giving birth as we speak.' A whoop went up through the room, but Haze had already turned her back. Somethings were too personal, too painful to share with her squad. Something to fight for... she thought as she clenched her teeth.

'We move out in thirty seconds. Suit up'.

[Scope989]

cool, u definately got the mood set,
i cant wait 4 this 1 2 b finished.
Keep it up!

Scope

[Sir Sam Vimes]

I say, you really have an impressive vocabulary. This was a very fun read, and the characters were masterfully described.

A couple of questions though: Would Inquisitors see cancer as a mutation (we do it) and does that mean that everyone with that disease is regarded as an enemy of the Imperium?

Second, the contigent is called non-born. Are the soldiers cloned, or is there something else behind the name?

Once more, very good story.

[Onanon]

I say, you really have an impressive vocabulary. This was a very fun read, and the characters were masterfully described.

A couple of questions though: Would Inquisitors see cancer as a mutation (we do it) and does that mean that everyone with that disease is regarded as an enemy of the Imperium?

Second, the contigent is called non-born. Are the soldiers cloned, or is there something else behind the name?

Once more, very good story.

Would they? *Looks at a mole. Windows smash behind him, and bolter fire is heard.*

I'd say cancer would be recognised as an affliction of the body, but keep an eye on those moles. If they change shape, into an 8-point star lets say, or start bleeding (and screaming 'BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD!), begin rotting away your flesh or swell into another breast, then you should immediately report to your GP for 'laser' therapy.

A contingent is like a body of soldiers.

Yes, Non-borns are clones. The ones referred to here are the Grenadiers, modified, conditioned non-borns. Heavily armed and armoured.
Ordinary Non-borns are artificially limited human clones, taken from the stock of 10 Human eggs and divided 96 times. This leads to manufacturing defects. They have been tampered with, souless. They are represented ingame by Conscripts and feature in 'At Home, He is a Commissar'. 

Trying to get this done, but I've been so busy recently. I apologise for leaving you all hanging like this.

[Ukos Sa'cea Rienn]

Once again, No Love Lost, you write a very intersting story.

It was, once again, the kind of story I wouldn't expect from anyone other than you. Very intersting, very enjoyable to read, but somehow I still found it confusing and difficult. I'll do my best to explain myself:

For one thing, "He simply stared at his hands and didn't breath."? Is he one of your non-borns? I'd expect a normal person could "and held his breath" but "and didn't breath"?

Also, Null is obscenely strong. Surviving battlecannons and krak missiles? ?The real issue I have with his description though, is this: "It was often said he was part Ogryn, but he never let on which parts." to me, that says "Therefore, he told us that he was, in fact part ogryn, but didn't tell us how much of him was." But I don't think that's what you mean. I think what you mean is "It was often said that he was part Ogryn, but they never specified which parts." or "It was often said that he was part Ogryn, but He never told us anything either way." Or some cross of the two. Moving on, though...

In the first part, the whole thoughts in the shower bit was confusing. I don't really understand everything you said there.

But yeah, that was some of the things that confused me.

As to the question on cancer, I definitely think cancer would be seen as a malicious mutation, a sort of manifestation of Chaos in a person, and would be frowned upon by the Inquisition, but I think you'd be safe with your moles.

On the topic of the Inquisition, I'm not sure they'd be too happy about soulless people, but, then again, they might be. Who better to send against chaos than people who can't be corrupted?

Anyway, congrats on another well written story, and good luck with future installments.

Sorry if this post was a bit jumbled.

-Ukos

P.S. Earlier, I believe you said that this story would be "Paralysed", rather than "Paraylsed", as it is now. If you want to change that, you can by modifying the first post and changing the title. Not sure if you knew that, but I hope it helps.

[Onanon]

For one thing, "He simply stared at his hands and didn't breath."? Is he one of your non-borns? I'd expect a normal person could "and held his breath" but "and didn't breath"?

P.S. Earlier, I believe you said that this story would be "Paralysed", rather than "Paraylsed", as it is now. If you want to change that, you can by modifying the first post and changing the title. Not sure if you knew that, but I hope it helps.

Duly noted and changed. That's what I love about writing on this forum, you can write a first draft, edit out what you don't like and then have it proof-read and peer-reviewed! It's a serious boon to know your audience as a writer as well.

Also, Null is obscenely strong. Surviving battlecannons and krak missiles? ?The real issue I have with his description though, is this: "It was often said he was part Ogryn, but he never let on which parts." to me, that says "Therefore, he told us that he was, in fact part ogryn, but didn't tell us how much of him was." But I don't think that's what you mean. I think what you mean is "It was often said that he was part Ogryn, but they never specified which parts." or "It was often said that he was part Ogryn, but He never told us anything either way." Or some cross of the two. Moving on, though...

Oh he is indeed! toughness 4, feel no pain and medalion crimson. Bionics as well. He's like the secular chaplain in the army.

'Letting on' is colloquial English, it means 'not telling' in a joking situation but kind of more than that. Like an Irish person saying 'Grand', it can mean anything to hanging on by a fingernail, to absolutely on top of the world. How about 'He often joked about being part Oygrn, but he never specified which parts.'

In the first part, the whole thoughts in the shower bit was confusing. I don't really understand everything you said there.

I need to edit in breaks. The italics are a few lines from an Evan Boland poem, 'The Famine Road'. It's what inspired this story.

As to the question on cancer, I definitely think cancer would be seen as a malicious mutation, a sort of manifestation of Chaos in a person, and would be frowned upon by the Inquisition, but I think you'd be safe with your moles.

Joking about the moles. We know the Imperium is far more advanced than most people give it credit for (Null technology, warp travel, bionics, weaponry etc) and it's a certainty such a common disease wouldn't result in you being purged.

On the topic of the Inquisition, I'm not sure they'd be too happy about soulless people, but, then again, they might be. Who better to send against chaos than people who can't be corrupted?

Souless in the sense the Anomiens don't consider them human, but the Imperium does, so they are eligible for tithes. Prior the Heresy and the Exterminatus of Anomie-1, they had close Inquisitorial ties. The Anomiens made excellent inducted Guard as they weren't spooked easily like other, more superstitious armies.

Anomiens themselves always had a particualrly high concentration of psychic blanks and it's a rumor that the population was cursed or inhuman. As Null will later tell the Commissar, absolute human evil and suffering rising off him like heat, 'We're as human as anyone else.'

[Sir Sam Vimes]

On the topic of the Inquisition, I'm not sure they'd be too happy about soulless people, but, then again, they might be. Who better to send against chaos than people who can't be corrupted?

Souless in the sense the Anomiens don't consider them human, but the Imperium does, so they are eligible for tithes. Prior the Heresy and the Exterminatus of Anomie-1, they had close Inquisitorial ties. The Anomiens made excellent inducted Guard as they weren't spooked easily like other, more superstitious armies.

Anomiens themselves always had a particualrly high concentration of psychic blanks and it's a rumor that the population was cursed or inhuman. As Null will later tell the Commissar, absolute human evil and suffering rising off him like heat, 'We're as human as anyone else.'

I think soulless individuals are of great use to the Imperium, especially for the Ordos (they have afterall the Culexus, who is soulless, to assassinate Daemons and psykers) and having an entire contigent that cannot be corrupted would be valuable to a Daemonhunter.

[Onanon]

Corporal Mir Egal was jittery.

He sat on the edge of the bench and fiddled with the power setting of the lasgun, a whine and then a groan as he pushed it up and down.

Up.
Haze seems messed up.
Monthly...for five whole days, and then only you have to bleed. Indeed?  Anybody and everybody. Who made you sacred, made you believe that blood's not the only thing that mattered. He took, was blacklisted by her in his arms, and the Eyes.. Never underestimate me, never, no.

Down.
Fit to lead?

Up.
Cards are held closely to the black ceiling, twin waterfalls of tears hidden within the cardiac organ. An essence, I've missplaced it. I am in full possession and unconditionally presently on that that indicates I am presently capable of the information and in full knowledge of retribution to the expiration of another being.
 
Lifespan, the Reaper. Behind the large explanation is simply a set of doors.

Down.
Id est, ready for war.

As if in confirmation of the fact, Haze crackled into life over the combead.
'We're moving out.'

Egal took one last look around the room, maybe his last. Nadal, Bleeder and the rest were already leaving, Domo hadn't moved and Egal got the bad vibes from him. Taking one last snort of Spur to counteract the last of the Transcendil, and give him a boost, he flipped down his visor, made the sign of the Aquila and grabbed Domo, both of them tearing up the corridor.

_

Out of the blast doors, into the etherland.

'Goodbye'.

The waters run out of a pool. The wound stops bleeding.
The pace was set, we go where we are ordered to go.

An individual, made of replaceable parts.
Replaceable parts, made of the individual.

He knew the truth.
He knew what they were made of.

Were they less human than he?
Sight down the scope.

A head, a face, a heart.
The armour warps and cracks as we reach out and touch them.

The light was truth as falsehoods failed and spun to the ground.

I can forgive them, only I can give them absolution.
Absolution through annihilation.

Sight another down the scope.
Extinguished. A candle that is snuffed and cannot be re-lit.

Individuals. We're all the same.
Sight another, cut down by a different truth.

Lies kicked up the ground around him, some of them heavier.
Was faith his shield as the light died in his eyes?

We draw back to see what it is that has happened, out of our fabrications.
It seems a little hollower now.

I stand upon a hill, a mountain, alone.
Manned the mountain.

A few falsehoods streak past, but I am proof against them.
At least until I desire not to be anymore.

Not to be.
Interesting.

Another sighted, he dies.
What is death then?

We fight to die.
Why else do insects fight?

Insects... He ground another beneath his foot.
Things far below me I have been ordered to crush.

Ducking and refreshing, He thought upon death.
Either nothing to fear, or nothing.

Nothing here, really.
Maybe I'll decide to die?

A crack, a half-truth falling, bleeding, dying.
Maybe I'm alone now.

Feelings come from the craw of the reconciliati.
What I learned from meeting a girl who didn't know.

Didn't really learn anything.
At least I know my purpose here.

To be born, to live and to die.
Not necessarily in that order.

To think of heaven.
Maybe I'll go there.

No, never will, fear the house doomed to bleak shortness self hate that bled down from ages, stargods, untouchable, doomed to bleak shortness, imprisoned in these false tombs never living, only deathlife surrounds bound to the master raised from unlife bought and sold still only bought and sold

Yes.
I'll go there now.

__

Egal ducked down below another volley of shuriken meant to end him, hearing it skitter and fragment on the jagged volcanic rock. He peered over the edge of his foxhole and saw Domo walking towards the Eldar line.

He's lost it. He's finally lost it.

As much as he hated himself for doing it, he rose from cover and began sprinting towards the sniper.

__

What tedium.
The frantic dissection of boredom.

Something is always happenning.
We make it ourselves.

What tedium?
I'll end it soon.

A new sensation, to be held close and swept to the breast.
At least, till the next day.

The voice of another comes.
He's too far away to reach even me.

A sea of lies awaits.
I'll take a swim, maybe drown, see if I can cool down a little bit.

He stands on the highest point, waiting for lightning to strike.
Curse this lack of presence.

Finally, a light to the darkness.
The impact that destroys tired truths.

Beautiful.
Are these tears?

Not my tears.
I could never express myself, you know...

The body opens.
Fluids spill out.

Irreversible cessation of circulation.
The onset of putrefaction.

is this death?
A shaking of the limbs, boots drumming against the cold.

Aye, there's sleep.
Perchance to rub? Rub in sleep on dreams.

Salacious to the end.
Not a bitter one.

a farewell

not a man for speeches

I'll never understand it.
never should have bothered trying.

slower now, he fails to dodge the thousand barbs meant to destroy.
paradoxically, a hastening!

a great sigh
relief,

not regret.


and

little

less


...

_

Egal crashed into the lip of the dune where Domo had fallen, scatter lasers from the remaining Elder armour swirling though the sand, leaving hundreds of glass tubes. They splintered, a million million shards shredding Egal's hand and gashing his throat. A krak grenade went off somewhere, finishing whatever Nadal's lascannon couldn't. Egal centred himself and found Domo's pulse. He was dead, but still warm. Without hesitation, he took out a syringe of Miskatonic and plunged it directly into Domo's neck. He released the Leylandii-pattern carpace and began chest compressions, desperately trying to work the preservative into every cell of the body.

Domo was the best, untouchable in stealth, concealment and marksmanship.
They were under orders to use the stasis fluid on any fallen, but Egal went out of his way to save Domo. His blood flowed into the dead air, steam rising from his ruined hand and throat as the bodyheat condensed. It'd freeze quick enough, so he didn't have to worry. Domo jerked under the impacts, and for a second Egal thought he was still alive.

He owed him from Kan-Rika, in the jungle war. But the One-Shot wraith was a ghost now.
Egal stopped pumping his arms and began to laugh at the absurdity of it all. Resuscitate a corpse. How amusing. A snicker as he fell back into the sand, hysterical as he heard footsteps coming up behind him and silent paroxysms as two Non-Borns lifted him to his feet and carried the dead man away.

They'd won.

It was over.

_

Back in the debrief room, Haze wore exhaustion like a shroud. She had been soaked in Bleeder's blood when he went down with a severed torso, a casualty of a shruiken cannon and her body twinged where fragments of shrapnel had embedded themselves. Domo was dead, but Egal's actions had pleased the Commander inordinately. He requisitioned the body when her and her squad, accompanied by about twenty surviving Non-borns, came in the airlock. She was tired, shellshocked and too outranked to make an objection. Nadal rolled and Glass toked, both glad to exist. Joy Enders had gone to see Merity, everyone else still a little too close to death to see some new life. Egal was glum. He flexed three new bionic fingers and was murdering a few classic tunes through a new voicebox. He joked he didn't need the three fingers, he still had the only two that mattered.

'I dread to think what's being done to those bodies.' Nadal rumbled.
'Bleeder might be back, and that's what I'm scared of...'

'They lost thirty out there today. A few still unconfirmed.' said Haze, thinking on Roy.

Everyone did a little mental arithmetic. Two hundred and ninety seven minus thirty equals two hundred and sixty seven. Plus one, if you wanted to be pendantic or optimistic. That was not a happy figure.

'All those wasted corpses...'
Hopeless, star cold sweat.

'Just shut up Egal.'


                         +++END+++

[Ukos Sa'cea Rienn]

... No Love Lost, that is some crazy stuff ...

The first part, about Corporal Egal seemed a bit odd though. It seemed like a complete break in your style: saying things like "lol" and "srsly"? I'm not sure what to think about it other than that though. It didn't really make a lot of sense to me, but that could just be me.

The second part seemed totally unrelated to your story, unless it was meant to be Corporal Egal's thoughts while on the battlefield, but that's not what it seemed like to me. Despite seeming severed from the rest of the text, though, the poem (?) was very good, powerful and fascinating.

Anyway, I'm still not sure what to think, but congrats on writing such powerful stuff anyway.

Good luck with whatever else you write.

-Ukos

<Upon reading the end...> Congrats on a story well finished. I don't really have any other comments to make on the last little bit.

[Onanon]

... No Love Lost, that is some crazy stuff ...

The first part, about Corporal Egal seemed a bit odd though. It seemed like a complete break in your style: saying things like "lol" and "srsly"? I'm not sure what to think about it other than that though. It didn't really make a lot of sense to me, but that could just be me.

..Thank you. I was doing so well, writing fun, entertaining fanfiction and then it all went weird again... I honestly think I was subjected to LSD therapy as a child.

Yes, the first part is Egal. He's been sniffing Transcendil all day, on a psychoactive planet, near a Pariah gene carrier and is a about to fight a battle. It doesn't make sense, it's meant to be hallucinatory and odd. I decided to give each character a unique voice, and to make them distinct.

The second part seemed totally unrelated to your story, unless it was meant to be Corporal Egal's thoughts while on the battlefield, but that's not what it seemed like to me. Despite seeming severed from the rest of the text, though, the poem (?) was very good, powerful and fascinating.

The second part is Domo, the superhuman sniper.
He's bitter, ironic and something else I can't quite name. Salacious, yeah.

A pile more of stuff just edited in, the end (?) of Domo and more later.

What was the story with the crossed out paragraph?
Read the words, and remember the Necrontyr...

[Sir Sam Vimes]

Hah, that about Mir Egal is just so frisping brilliant. Sounds very much like what's going on in my head some very late evenings (nights).

Anyway, keep the good amphetamine parrot like this coming.

[Onanon]

Hah, that about Mir Egal is just so frisping brilliant. Sounds very much like what's going on in my head some very late evenings (nights).

Anyway, keep the good amphetamine parrot like this coming.

Good to see a character striking up some empathy (though bad at the same time...*.O)
Had to finish it, as I'm devoting way too much time to a single story, and I'm getting bored of it. I might write something better at a later date.

Drinking straight rum on the rocks, toasting to the completion of another story and to yisser all health.

Peace and goodwill to all.

-NLL-
Should I sign my name? Mmmh...

[Scope989]

spewin.
why does every 1 make the snipers die?
oh well if he was walkin 2wards the eldar hes got sum messed up problems.

keep it up.

Scope 

[Sir Sam Vimes]

*slowly the synapses inside Vimes' head contacts, realying sensitive data*

Hey! Hold there just one sec. You didn't make up that name Mir Egal, didn't you? 'Cause that's german and means approximately "It means the same to me" or similar.

Man, my brain is slow...

[Onanon]

*slowly the synapses inside Vimes' head contacts, realying sensitive data*

Hey! Hold there just one sec. You didn't make up that name Mir Egal, didn't you? 'Cause that's german and means approximately "It means the same to me" or similar.

Man, my brain is slow...

Meh, es ist mir egal.

He joins a long list of German words turned into names.

'The Commissar is a man of Action', the second in the Commissar arc begins today. I've had bits of it written for weeks, and at long last I'm bringing them together.