# The life and career of Commissar Volkmann



## Doelago (Nov 29, 2009)

The man was clearly dead. He was laying on his back, with a rugged piece of metal pouting out through his throat. He could not recognize the man, the soldiers face ripped open by the explosion that claimed his, and most of his squads life. The chimera was also a similar wreck. Its back hatch was ripped wide open, and the walls and roof were badly mangled. Its pintle mounted heavy stubber lay on the ground, a hand still clutching the grip of the weapon. 
_
“Blasted xeno wretches”_ he could hear Major Hikkowa mutter under his breath, and truth was, that Volkmann shared the man’s sentiment. Volkmann clutched a helmet in his hand, studying its name plate. 

_“Who? Don’t tell me it is anyone I knew”_ the major said and chuckled. 

_“Sergeant Andomus. Always hated the bastard. You will be filling his death notice.”_ The major laughed. 
_
“Commissar, you fail at relationships.”_

_“As if I could afford any?”_ Volkmann replied and threw the helmet aside, before crouching beside the body of the dead sergeant. He avoided looking at the face, it was a terrible mess, the explosion clearly having succeeded with its task. He picked the man’s pockets, collecting his Uplifting Primer and dog tags. He proceeded to turn the body around, relieved by the fact that he would not have to see the man’s face. He proceeded to open the bag, and was about to collect the spare power packs to the lasgun, when he found a brown box stuffed away at the bottom. He picked it out, and opened it. 

_”What do ya know? Lucky bastard died before I could confiscate these and execute him for breaking the regimental regulations”_, Volkmann said, and smiled as he looked at the cigars in the box. He put one in his mouth, and lighted it with a firestick in the box._ “Want one, Major?”_

_“You know I don’t smoke that shit”_ The major said with no humor in his voice. 

_“Too bad, they are real good.”_


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## Doelago (Nov 29, 2009)

No, I could not come up with a worse name for the story. And C&C is welcome. 

More on the way. I promise.


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## Haskanael (Jul 5, 2011)

"life of a commisar" would sound better as i pointed out on the chat  
also nice story reads as if there will be a lots of humour for the readers If you continue


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## Doelago (Nov 29, 2009)

Haskanael said:


> also nice story reads as if there will be a lots of humour for the readers If you continue


Of course there will be. :crazy:


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## ThatOtherGuy (Apr 13, 2010)

Does he drive a volkswagon? :crazy: Durhh.


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## Doelago (Nov 29, 2009)

Waht? :crazy:


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## Ambush Beast (Oct 31, 2010)

*OK*

I don't know what the other comments had to do with the story; mabye there is an inside joke I don't know about. But about the story, I like it and do hope for more.


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## Doelago (Nov 29, 2009)

Adrian said:


> I don't know what the other comments had to do with the story; mabye there is an inside joke I don't know about. But about the story, I like it and do hope for more.


No inside jokes as far as I am aware, thanks, and yes, more is on the way. In fact, I have the next part written, but I am letting it rest for a moment in preparation for the proof readings.


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## Serpion5 (Mar 19, 2010)

Good start Doelago. Now finish the job. :threaten: 


:biggrin:


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## Doelago (Nov 29, 2009)

Serpion5 said:


> Good start Doelago.


Thank you sir. 



Serpion5 said:


> Now finish the job. :threaten:


You hinting at something.


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## Doelago (Nov 29, 2009)

_Quite ironic_ he thought. Who’s brilliant idea was it to include the death notice right beside the “Soldiers Particulars”, right on fifth page of the book? Not that he would complain, made all the paper work so much easier when you did not have to flicker through the pages while filling all the death notices, which in Volkmann’s opinion were nothing short of pointless, seeing as they would never get past the Departmento Munitorum. Of course it boosted morale among the ranks of the guard to know that their kin would be informed of their “heroic deeds” in the service of the Emperor, but Volkmann knew better. The rabble would not be remembered for anything else but for their regiments name and where they would be annihilated.

He sipped the last of the tea, before telling Epsilon two-seven, the servitor looming at his door, to get his cup filled. He ripped the death notice out from the primer, and put it on top of the ever growing stack of death notices, and then proceeding with filling the next one. 

_Name?_ He looked over at the other page, “D.HENKINS”. _Serial number?_ 87690. _Rank?_ 

_Frak this_, he thought and slammed the primer back onto the desk. He leaned back in his chair, trying to relax. He looked at the grey ceiling, trying to think, but his mind was constantly pulled back to all the waiting paper work. He looked at the desk, at stacks of Uplifting Primers and piles of dog tags, and then there was the brown box. He thought about taking another cigar, but resisted the temptation. Instead he waited for Epsilon two-seven to return, the expressionless servitor making its way into the room as quietly as it could, which honestly, it failed miserably at. 

_“Master, your tea as requested.”_ Volkmann took the cup, not bothering to thank the servitor, for it would not notice, or indeed care, whatever or not he did. He took a zip of the tea, before spitting it out, and pointlessly shouting,_ “Who is the blasted idiot making this tea!? Fool should be relieved of his duty!” _

_“Gunnery Sergeant S.Dienekes, lord, I shall go an-“ _

_“Shut it.”_ Volkmann said, before sighing and handing the cup to epsilon two-seven, who, once again, tried to quietly move out of the room. He could almost hear the servos squeeze as the servitor moved, and made a mental note to have the Mechanium Adepts tend to the matter. 
Then he sunk his head back into the paper work. _Cause of death? _


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