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       #Post#: 664--------------------------------------------------
       Jebediah Dran
   DIR By: Commissar Falco Sanders
       Date: April 10, 2016, 7:36 am
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       I'm planning on using him later, plus I'm proud of this piece.
       I began my life as the son of a hotel owner. The hotel was a
       small cramped place, walls of plasteel and almost a hundred
       bunks crammed into a tiny area, and yet we  never had more
       customers! Of course being in the lower tier of the hive we were
       never to rise to any position of importance (although through a
       series of events yet to unfold, I at least would). Nevertheless,
       we had more than enough money for food, water, and an overall
       good quality of living. I was taught to read and write, and I
       was almost 15 by the time my studies finished. In that time I
       had learnt to read and write in both high and low gothic, and
       learnt of the emperors glory and the imperium. I was, like any
       good citizen, a frequent visiter of krassus hives cathedral, and
       soon, I was a respected member of the community. I was doing
       well, and after a few years I met a girl, Christine, a wonderful
       woman, alas, our relationship was cut short.
       I was 17 by the time that the guard came, marching about in
       their well pressed uniforms. War had never come to my homeworld
       lithos, but now it was coming thick and fast. Rumour arose of a
       cultist army in the sewers, of the governor becoming infected by
       some strange disease, of an army readying themselves for war
       just outside of the system. In the end, it was none of these.
       They came to our hotel, a guardsman of about 20 years of age,
       raged brown hair and a pale, haunted face. He passed me a
       uniform and a lasgun and told me to go to the cathedral. I came
       over quickly, suited up and carrying the lasgun under my arm.
       Nobody seemed to notice me, and honestly, there must have been
       at least half a million people crammed into that cathedral. An
       obviously high ranking echlisiarch strode up to a podium, and
       told us of the situation. I confess, I do not remember what the
       man said, although I can give an approximation.
       "Men of the imperium! Xenos have come to our world, and we shall
       fight them back! The emperor is with you men, and as long as you
       are faithful, you shall last the day. For the emperor!"
       A platoon commander addressed me to where I should go, and I ran
       off with about a thousand men, down the main street, down some
       alleys and eventually we came to a small door set into a wall.
       the commander checked that we were all there, and then moved
       over to the rusted, inconspicuous metal door, took out a key
       from the folds of his red shirt (lithos guard had a deep red
       battledress, with a white carapace. I still have fond memories
       of that uniform), and opened the door. We streamed out into a
       large balcony, presumably stretching along a large section of a
       hive, and I stared out along the battlefield, my first time
       outside of the hive. When most people talk of this, all they
       seem to speak of is the wasteland, and the magnificent
       desolation. All I really remember was burnt grass, the smell of
       oil and ash and many, many, many greenskined xenos.
       Well my dear readers. I tire at this late hour, and in my old
       age, I cannot continue. I intend to write more, and indeed I
       will. But I do hasten to add that my tale only grows darker and
       more gruesome as it progresses.
       Forgive me for what I have done.
       The battlefield was utterly filled with rank upon rank of
       green-skins, and the air filled with their war cries and the
       noise of their tanks. There was no time for preparations or
       anything of the sort, bullets were already flying, and the orks
       were advancing up the slope. A guardsman pushed me down behind
       the small wall at the edge of the ledge, a hastily constructed
       amalgamation of corrugated plaststeel. I then started a simple
       routine of popping up and blasting and ork before popping back
       down, the sergeant had given us permission to use free-fire.
       Eventually, a combat engineer ran over, I saw his face and
       realised that he was Vladimir Isacof who had stayed in my hotel
       for a few years, and we were good friends.
       "come with me! we need to support the eastern gate!" he yelled,
       grabbing me by the scruff of my neck and pulling me along the
       ground, crouching where it was almost safe. Nevertheless, there
       were hundreds of dead men along the wall, and we came across a
       dead lascannon team. Vladimir and I picked it up and shuffled
       along the wall, stepping over the bodies of dead guardsmen,
       empty clips and auto-gun shells. We carried on, eventually
       breaking into more of a crouched sprint, and we were by the
       eastern gate within a decent time. I found and area with a
       firing slit in the wall and laid down the tripod, Vladimir
       lacing the Lascannon in the bracket.
       "Good job  Jebed-" Vladimir started to say, before a stray
       bullet slammed through his jaw and tore it off. He stood there
       for a few moments before collapsing unconscious. I took out a
       roll of bandages from a pouch in my overalls, and made a choice.
       I grabbed his welder, and seared the bleeding flesh around his
       mouth, and wrapped his half-mouth in bandages, then lay him down
       on the ground and shuffled back to the lascannon.
       I took the handles at the back, and marvelled at the newfound
       power that still rested in my hands, and the immense weight of
       the object. I popped my head up, and saw some kind of hastily
       constructed transport vehicle filled with orks, and took a shot.
       a tiny spec of light popped up on the vehicle, and I saw a
       little black hole that had emerged at the front of it. The team
       of orks at the  back stared up at me in my perch, and I awaited
       a hail of bullets. Instead, the front of the truck exploded, and
       the crew in the back were scattered across the battlefield in
       little meaty chunks. I cried out in victory, and so did many of
       the other guards at this end of the gate, but our victory was
       short lived. Hundreds and hundreds of tiny green-skins started
       to scale the wall, and an enormous Ork with two huge mechanical
       claws appeared at the bottom of the wall, and began to climb it.
       I leaned over the wall to look, almost getting shot in the ear
       as I did so, and saw the ork climbing the wall, foam and blood
       frothing at his mouth. He was already almost halfway up, and was
       bounding up the wall like some kind of giant rabid dog.
       I hauled a guard over to me, and told him to shift the lascannon
       backwards. I then put it down, and sat behind it, fear building
       up inside of me as I heard the thump of it's claws hammer into
       the wall to the beat of my heart.
       The ork sprang over the wall, and it was huge, twelve feet high
       at least with rippling muscles and blood soaked armour. I was
       utterly terrified, so I pressed the fire button. A laser shot
       into his chest and tore a hole in it before he landed, tossing
       him backwards. I didn't stop, firing again and again, tearing
       his body into several seared chunks, slowly falling until they
       burst at the base of the wall. along the lane which the great
       ork was killed, no more orks came up.
       I'll be honest, I do not remember the rest of the battle. All I
       know is that Vladimir survived, and we managed to hold all the
       gates. I remember a great feeling of triumph when we were taken
       onto the battlefield to march over the corpses, and the ceremony
       back at the cathedral, which I do remember decently.
       The survivors were all dragged back to the cathedral, cheering
       and singing and offering praise to their comrades and the
       emperor. A lot of the seats were taken, so I leaned against the
       wall, and listened to the ceremony. A group of choir singers
       were singing, and I was content. I was happy to have survived.
       Vladimir, unsurprisingly, was at a military hospital, being a
       friend of our regiments commissar and a brilliant engineer. A
       few guards were given awards for acts of courage and valour,
       they even mentioned my name (although I recall they
       mispronounced Jebediah), and complimented me for my use of the
       lascannon and my quick thinking in saving Vladimir Isacof.
       we then walked off, and I was given a data slate so that I could
       stay in contact and be summoned when needed, and they gave me a
       helmet without a conscript stripe.
       Soon I was sent out with my regiment, the lithos 33rd, to quell
       the ork threat on lithos. This campaign, known as operation
       Midnight blossom, I may detail at a later date, however, I will
       take another break before I continue.
       #Post#: 665--------------------------------------------------
       Re: Jebediah Dran
   DIR By: Commissar Falco Sanders
       Date: April 10, 2016, 7:40 am
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       Ah. Back to this. I stress that this next bit is... well, you've
       come this far, so you may as well carry on.
       I was 20 by this time, and operation midnight blossom was going
       well. We had been doing well, Vladimir got a metal jaw segment
       with a voice module that let him speak again. I felt like he
       still had a little anger towards me for his jaw being
       cauterised, however he later realised that I had saved his life,
       and the aggression subsided, and we were good friends.
       One day we were called to our commissars tent in the early hours
       of the morning. We were both fairly surprised, but we hadn't
       done anything, so we went down anyway.
       When we entered the commissars tent, after the formalities, we
       both sat down in-front of him.
       " I regret to inform you both, that platoon commander Jensen was
       found dead this morning. Our raid on one of the rok's did not go
       as planned. Because of this, I am giving you, that honour,
       sergeant Jebediah Dran. As for you, Vladimir Isacof, I am giving
       you the duty of Vox caster for his platoon. May the Emperor
       watch over you both."
       We were both surprised and elated. Admittedly, usually the
       sergeants didn't live that long, but who ever did in the guard?
       I accepted the role, and was give a chainsword and the emperors
       blessing by a priest. Vladimir was given his Vox caster, and we
       both walked out of the tent. Later that day, we were all
       summoned to the marching ground of the camp. We were told that
       we were to lead a raid on a rok over the mountain ahead of us.
       Our platoon was to scout the tunnels at the base of the
       mountain, and then use those to infiltrate the ork rok and
       destroy it with demolition charges and meltabombs.
       It was early evening before we entered the tunnel. A dark,
       squalid and cramped place, and not one anybody would visit
       twice. Nevertheless, by going through the network of tunnels,
       this war would be shortened, and the lives of many soldiers
       would be saved. I stood in about the middle of the 50 to sixty
       soldiers under my command, due to the fact that standing at the
       front was likely a death sentence, but I couldn't go into my
       first battle as a commander at the back of my force. My lasgun
       was roped to my back, and I held the chainsword firmly in both
       hands. Vladimir was by my side, wielding an absurdly large
       flamer. I never knew where he got it but I gather he wasn't
       given it by choice. Suddenly, a roar echoed down the tunnel, so
       loud it almost deafened me, but I soon regained my bearings, and
       stared down the tunnel, calling my men to a halt. I heard
       screams echo down the corridor, as well as cries of pain and
       anguish... I had never heard and ork scream. I ordered my men to
       get ready to fire on my order.
       "READY!" I yelled, the first rank standing up to kill the
       incoming tide.
       "FIRST RANK, FIRE! SECOND RANK FIRE! THIRD RANK FIRE! FOURTH
       RANK FIRE! FIRST RANK FIRE!..." - I will not bore you with the
       details of my orders, as they simply repeat from here.
       The men kept firing, at first unable to see anything, but after
       a few ranks, several orks sprang out of the darkness, almost
       instantly shot. By the third round of orders, the orks were
       within close combat range, and many of the front-line men
       charged forwards into the fray, kicking, punching, stabbing,
       shooting, spitting, biting. I could never keep a track of that
       melee, but I do know the courage with which my men fought. It
       should have been a resounding success, however, it was not.
       While inspecting the battlefield, one of the men called me over,
       and I followed him. At the back of the bodies, lay hundreds of
       humans, garbed in rags with broken shackles on their legs and
       arms. I had just murdered hundreds of people.
       This, my readers, is the reason I question whether what I have
       done was right. I did do other terrible things. Some perhaps,
       worse than this, but I could not name them. And I will not do it
       here. Those secrets I will take to my grave. Despite this, let
       it be known that everything I did I did for the emperor.
       #Post#: 666--------------------------------------------------
       Re: Jebediah Dran
   DIR By: Commissar Falco Sanders
       Date: April 10, 2016, 7:43 am
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       We carried on through the tunnels, and saw no resistance. Upon
       reaching a mile from the rok, we sent word back to the rest of
       the rest of the army that we were to attempt the infiltration
       plan, and for them to stay back. I was still in shock from the
       massacre I had just performed, but I still accompanied my
       demolition team. I strapped several explosives to my back and
       two melta bombs at my waist, and went forth into the Rok. The
       tunnels got slowly and slowly narrower until we were crawling
       along on our belies through the tunnel. The smell grew too,
       first almost unnoticeable, but eventually it became so strong
       you could taste it; the stink of corpses, sweat, engine oil and
       sh!t. Eventually we climbed out into a small cave, and could
       hear the clanking of engines and machines... strange, primitive
       machines. we darted around between cover for a while splitting
       up as we went , centre of the rok. I reached where I was to
       plant the explosives, I then took the explosives off , planted
       the timer and began to make my way back.
       I was within 20 feet of the entrance to the tunnel when an orc
       wheeled round the corner, and stood at the hole. I waited to see
       what it would do, and feared that they knew we were there. I
       won't describe what happened next, save to say, it explained the
       smell of faces, and I stabbed the ork in the throat. I shifted
       the body away, tore the knife from its throat and pulled it down
       the hole to remove the evidence.
       I eventually returned back to the group, and found that all the
       rest of the demolitionists had returned, and that nobody had
       been killed. We then Pegged it.
       As we emerged from the tunnels into the light we were blinded,
       but soon regained our bearings and went over to the commissar. I
       remember, walking up that hill, the immense roar of the
       explosives tearing apart the rok from over 6 miles away still
       deafening us. It soon subsided, and a contingent of armoured and
       scout sentinels moved out to destroy any orks remaining, if
       there were any.
       The rest of the campaign was fairly dull. We protected a convoy
       from an enemy that never came, but other than that it finished
       without further assistance from us. I was awarded a few medals
       for my work, and kept my position in the regiment. As I was in
       the guards elite, I was to be shipped off to fight in the
       imperiums great battles instead of our defence force.
       Nevertheless, I still had a few months and I spent it with my
       wife. Turns out that during the war she'd had an affair, so I
       left fairly gladly.
       My first war off-plannet was not a popular one with the troops.
       It was on a planet called gapolis, and the planet was a
       sh!thole. The ground was all this thick mud that gooped together
       in the trenches and ended up pulling people under. The
       atmosphere was a thick toxic fog, and if you were shot and your
       protective clothing was punctured you'd likely choke before you
       bled out. And it was always raining. Always. Apparently the
       planet would've been boiling if it weren't for the rain.
       Nevertheless, the planet was (apparently) an important hive
       world producing almost all lucius pattern lasguns, and was
       incredibly vital for the imperium at whole. The campaign was
       simple, the hive known as hive Barris had been corrupted by
       chaos, and it's population was worshiping one of those dark gods
       ( we had a chaos incursion a few years before my birth, and we
       became one of the few planets to know that chaos even existed,
       and were regularly to fight against it) . We were to, with
       assistance from several of our own regiments and 30 krieg
       regiments, take back the city. There was no good plan, just to
       storm it during the middle of the day.
       We arrived outside the city, on day 114 of that year. Our camp
       was set up about 5 miles away, which was just outside of the
       range of shelling from the city. As I stepped out the shuttle
       with the commissar ( I never knew his real name) we were... I
       wouldn't say greeted... by a kriegsman, and led to their
       commissars tent. The tent itself was not in fact, a tent, rather
       a large ruined building reinforced with plate steel and scrap
       metal hastily welded together. A large table sat in the middle,
       and 6 commissars stood around it. One came up and greeted us.
       "Good evening, lithonians. We were just about to start
       discussing strategy. If you would like to take a seat, you may."
       Said one of them, like the rest of us, with a gas mask on his
       face and no skin exposed at all.
       "If I may ask..." I started, and saw one of the commissars nod
       and carried on "what exactly are we dealing with here? Do we
       have any plans of the city? any manifest on its current guard?
       Are there any loyalists still inside? That kind of information
       can make the difference between loosing and winning this war."
       "Indeed. It could indeed... " He then sent off a scribe, and
       continued " We do know an approximately what they have inside;
       about ten thousand men, and all their defen-" A shell barrage
       fired off, the noise deafening everyone "um, defensive
       batteries, orbital cannons, mortars and heavy weapons around the
       wall, but little inside... as well as, presumably 5000 adeptus
       arbites."
       "It seems as though the walls are our main obstacle, and if we
       can break through them and get our armies in then as soon as we
       take the capitalis, the city will be ours."
       "How? that is barely ten percent of the city."
       "Morale. By showing we can take the most heavily defended part
       of the city, the other parts will be scared out of their minds.
       Then we allow them to 'surrender'  and execute all the confirmed
       chaos worshipers."
       "And another half on top of that." said our commissar.
       Another stood up " Also... if they are summoning anything, it'll
       be in the top levels of the spire. And anything they've already
       summoned will be there too."
       #Post#: 667--------------------------------------------------
       Re: Jebediah Dran
   DIR By: Commissar Falco Sanders
       Date: April 10, 2016, 7:44 am
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       At the break of dawn we marched. Our entire regiment sandwiched
       between another two krieg regiments, two bane-blades and several
       hundred tanks. On a hill about three miles away from the walls,
       we stood, and prepared to march as soon as they bought down the
       wall. 15 death-strike missile launchers stood on that hill, and
       they were counting down to the beginning of this battle. I stood
       in front of my men and listened to the artillery master.
       "T minus 10 seconds... Ignition sequence start.... 5, 4, 3, 2,
       1, release launch clamps!"
       Fifteen plasma warheads flew forward in a three mile arc, the
       first to impact hitting the two gunners towers, brimming with
       artillery. A blinding flash of light blinded us, and as it
       subsided several more hit us, and then the noise, a earth
       rending, ground trembling rumble sending a shockwave back so
       powerful it knocked dozens of men to the ground. I stared back
       up after averting my gaze, and saw hundreds of boulders bigger
       than bane-blades made of solid rockcrete tumbling to the ground,
       and a path cleared for us.
       We marched, and as much as I hated that place, I'll admit that
       it was bloody glorious. We marched, maybe half a million men,
       storming through the demolished gates without resistance, and
       storming along the streets utterly annihilating any resistance.
       A few trucks turned up with autoguns mounted on top, but our
       leman russes made short work of them. By the time we were at the
       capitalis gates, we had only lost a hundred men, but we were set
       to loose more than half of our total army.
       The capitalis was its own single spire, stretching up maybe a
       mile and a half into the sky, its sides sporting vile chaotic
       banners and symbols. There were many long windows stretching the
       hight of the spire, and I could see hundreds of troops, well
       armed troops at that, marching down to intercept us. So I led
       the charge. A bane-blade demolished the front doors, killing
       hundreds of men lined up behind it. Hundreds of kriegsmen and I
       stormed into that hallway, hacking and slashing with bayonet
       point and chainsword. We stormed up, no shortage of bodies
       beneath our boots and men in front ripe for laughter. I was
       hacking my way through a team of cultists with combat knifes,
       when I saw a cultist throw himself on Vladimir. I sliced through
       the necks of the cultists and turned, starting to run at him.
       Then the cultist exploded, killing Vladimir instantly.
       I was... needless to say, p*ssed. He was the last person I
       actually cared about, and so I just lost it. I grabbed the
       standard off my standard bearer and stormed up the stairs,
       remorselessly killing the cultists in-front of me.
       I burst into the planetary governors chambers and I shot him,
       then continued up the stairs onto the roof. I stormed out there,
       missiles and mortars hammering into the very building I was
       perched upon. Valkries descended from orbit, streaming down
       troops into various Hab blocks, and I stood, holding my flag. I
       moved to the flagpole, and all alone on that rooftop, raised the
       standard of the Lithos 33, and lowered the taint of chaos from
       that city.
       After the battle, I was awarded command of the Lithos 33rd, and
       the star of terra, the highest military honour available to me.
       As it turned out, only 13 men survived the capitalis assault,
       and I was one of them. But I did loose a good friend that day.
       But through some twist of fate I retained most of my mind. I get
       flashbacks every now and then... the blood and smoke... I need a
       break.
       #Post#: 669--------------------------------------------------
       Re: Jebediah Dran
   DIR By: Commissar Falco Sanders
       Date: April 10, 2016, 7:49 am
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       I, as I have already told you, was awarded the star of terra,
       and to be awarded this I had to travel to my homeworld, and be
       awarded it by the planetary governor. Unfortunately we were
       still at war, so it arrived a few weeks later in a small golden
       box, carried by a selection of squires and emissaries. I wore it
       with pride from then onwards, other men gasping in awe when they
       saw it.
       As it turns out, very few demons or other aberrations were
       summoned into the city, and the main military force was in the
       capitalis. Once we'd beaten that it was a cakewalk. But there is
       one experience that I dared not share with another in the
       catacombs beneath one of the manufactorums. Having sent raiding
       parties down the catacombs, we were certain that no major
       military presence rested there, and so moved in to scour the
       traitors and heretics that resided in the tunnels below. I led a
       squadron of my finest men, all gifted to me from Lithos by the
       planetary governor. They were brilliant men, all masters of
       their lasguns and thoroughly versed in military tactics and the
       imperial creed.
       We were dropped outside by a chimera, and I led the way into the
       factory. It was a vast place, maybe a mile long, with the actual
       floor hundreds of feet below the level of entrance. We stood on
       a ledge that ran along the width of the rectangular factory,
       jutting out about 10 meters. All along the ledge's length were
       large steel plates, attached to cables hung on the ceiling high
       above. They were designed to lower men, machinery and supplies
       to the ground far below, but the roof was heavily damaged in the
       shelling, so we climbed down a small ladder at the side of the
       ledge. When we reached the ground floor, I took my bolter off my
       back (I was given one along with the star of terra, along with
       several other smaller gifts) and clung to cover, conveyor belts
       and heavy machinery.The factory was designed to produce lucius
       pattern lasguns, although it didn't look like it had been used
       for that in some time. Infact, a large area in the centre of the
       lower floor was cleared out, the conveyor belts torn out of
       their brackets and stacked against the wall. We carried on to a
       small door in the northern corner of the factory, an old and
       rust green door, with its pain peeling off. I beckoned to one of
       my men, and he calmly drew a pair of bolt cutters, and snipped
       the latch. I kicked the doors apart, and stormed into the dark
       corridor, torch on. A citizen looked up from the floor like a
       startled rat, and one of my men shot them. Seeing that this
       would not require anywhere near the amount of power my boltgun
       possessed, I slung it over my back and accepted a lasgun from my
       medic. We pressed on through the tunnels, downwards and
       downwards, killing the cultists that dwelled in it.
       Soon we came to a level corridor, different from the rest as it
       was built from rockcrete rather than hollowed out of stone. The
       corridor had six doors set into it, before the corridor ended in
       what I assume was a deliberately collapsed tunnel. We opened one
       of the doors to find a room filled with dead cultists, blackened
       by flame. We than moved onto another five corridors, and found
       the same in each. Then we moved to the final one, and I beckoned
       one of my men to open the door. He moved over and kicked the
       door open, and ran in. Instantly, we saw a horrendous sight. A
       demon, taller than a man with red skin, black horns and a
       flaming sword crouched in the corner, and stood up slowly as we
       entered. I dropped my gun and took of my bolter immediately, but
       already it was upon one of my men, slicing though his body like
       paper. I opened fire along with the rest of my men, round after
       round pounding into it. The medic who's gun I stole chanted a
       prayer at the back while we shot. After a bolt-shell impacted
       its head, it exploded into black ash, scattering backwards in
       the direction of the bullets.
       I have no clue as to wether or not the prayer killed it or
       bullets did. Either way, I didn't expect to see a demon, and to
       be honest... I was terrified by it. But it was killed and I
       never saw another in my life.
       And here... I'm afraid that my story ends.
       It was a routine street scouring, rounding up any thieves and
       traitors, and I was with my men, checking names off. Everybody
       had come out of their hab block, and was stood outside on the
       side of the road. I was overseeing the citizens as a scribe was
       checking off names with crime records. I peered between the rows
       of men, women and children in front of me, and I saw a man come
       charging out. I raised my laspistol and shot him in the right
       arm, severing it at the elbow. He kept charging, and was on top
       of me before I could fire off another round. I wrestled with him
       before giving up and snapping his neck. With a click, his life
       ended, and the crowd erupted. Hundreds of boots were trampling
       me in seconds, crushing me under their weight. NowI knew what my
       enemies felt like... Ironic I suppose, to finally get my
       comeuppance.
       I was recovered, unconscious, after they killed the rioters of
       course. I woke up in a medical hospital, with my legs numb, my
       arms broken and my face battered. Most of those wounds healed
       quickly... except for one. I had lost the use of my legs.
       Prosthetics or cybernetic limbs were ruled out due to the fact
       it was a problem in my brain rather than my actual legs. I was
       sent home with honourable discharge, probably because I was such
       a respected figure in the guard they couldn't just kill me. I
       arrived back on lithos in the morning, a guardsman of mine
       wheeling me along. I was given planetary governorship after the
       current was deemed unfit by the inquisition for withholding
       psykers. They even let me kill him myself. Well reader, I'll be
       honest with you... I was tempted to kill myself. I'd nothing
       left to live for. I lived for the guard, to serve mankind.
       Emperor knows I didn't have anything else to live for...
       #Post#: 671--------------------------------------------------
       Re: Jebediah Dran
   DIR By: Apothecary Meros
       Date: April 10, 2016, 7:55 am
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       *rapturous applause*
       I could only dream of writing like you, Mister Falco.
       #Post#: 676--------------------------------------------------
       Re: Jebediah Dran
   DIR By: Commissar Falco Sanders
       Date: April 10, 2016, 8:16 am
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       But, I stuck around. I met my wife again, she was doing well,
       running a little casino. I delegated most of my tasks to other
       people, and my life was fairly easy. I drunk a lot down at a
       club many of the nobles went too called the Old Lions Claws, and
       it was alright. I read a lot too...
       Eventually, a techpreist arrived on the planet, looking for a
       complete STC. I don't think he ever found one... but he did give
       me a small amount of neural cybernetics as a token of his
       appreciation in helping him (I gave him a few thousand men to
       scour the wastes with). These let me use my legs again, which I
       got replaced with bionics only a few weeks after the techpreist
       left.
       It didn't take long for me to make my decision. I sent a message
       out to the commissar that commanded me, asking him to put me
       back in command of the Lithos 33rd. The commissar declined this,
       but did ask me for one thing:
       I was to join a small taskforce known as Delta Black.
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