Hi guys. Well, I've been reading up what the /tg/ writefaggots have been churning out, and I found myself reading about the Death Korps of Krieg.

To say the least, it has been... inspiring.

As with ToyHammer, this is my take on the story of Kreigers and their newly shipped in Commissar.


Evening, all. They call it evening here, right? Not like skitterfall or a half-dozen other names like those Alumbrians, right?

[pause]

Now... what were those instructions for activating this thing? Uh... Begin. Record. Start. Oh, wait... hello? Is this thing already on? Hey, eighty three, does the blinking light mean that this thing is working? Yes? Alright then.

[pause]

Hey, hey! I never said to start taking down what I'm saying! Stop wasting ink, you stupid autoscriber!

[pause]

No, eighty three, put your laspistol away! I said put it away! Shooting the autoscriber for misunderstanding my orders is a waste of Imperial resources, eighty three, and I will not tolerate that, do you understand? Yes, I mean that. Wait... no, verbal reprimand only. You don't need to... oh... hey, eighty three...

[pause]

Alright, alright, stop whining and give me fifty push ups, then. Can you manage that?

[pause]

Good. No, I don't need to see you do them. Yes, I'm sure. N-... okay, alright. Do it here, then.

[pause]

Okay... where was I? Eighty three, hold position for a second. What's the command for the ID and timestamping? Do I have to include one of those 'Thoughts for the Day' that... yes? Understood, eighty three. Continue on.

[pause]

RECORDING # 1938-397-0

DATE: (4)994-989.M41

SECURITY LEVEL: Journal, Personal. (OFFICER – Passkey phrase: "Uhh... what?")

DICTATION SOURCE: Commissar E. Enoch, 526th Kreig Siege Regiment.

THOUGHT FOR THE DAY: 'Beware thy... oh, what was it again? NO! Don't write this do-'

SCRIBE: GEN #004017-0006

wn. Oh frakking warp-hells!

[ERROR! IMPACT DAMAGE RECORDED!]

What the! Eighty three, stop this infernal noise!

[pause]

Thank you, eighty three. You are dismissed. Yes, dismissed. No more pushups for you. Go dig a trench or something. What? Rewarding you? No, I am not!

[pause]

I am? Alright, very well then, run laps around the trenchworks then, full combat gear.

[pause]

Whew... alright, that's him gone. Eighty three... wait, is this being recorded as well? Alright, I think I remember how to fix this...

[INPUT PARAMETERS CHANGED]

#83's a weird one, alright. Initial numbers #9182, designation number #83d. I call him #83 for brevity. It'd be nice to know his name, though. He's just like the rest of those Kreigers. Not a surprise, seeing as he is one. Always disciplined, always so... uptight. Even the Storm Troopers back at the Schola were more relaxed than these guys. Not that there's anything wrong with that, of course...

[pause]

Not anything punishable, anyway.

[pause]

Actually, that's the problem I've been having. Master Cain, Hero of the Imperium as he was, told me to keep on the good books of the troops I was to watch over, get to know them, make myself as a figure to follow, not fear.

[pause]

A bit hard when your regiment might as well be a shipload of servitors. I think these guys would get along with an Engineseer better than they would a Commissar!

[pause]

He passed me, you know? I may have been the most idiotic Commissar ever to pass through the Perlian Scholarium. He passed me. Even after that time I 'theoretically' sent 2000 'theoretical' Guardsmen to their 'theoretical' dooms in a 'theoretical' minefield. You know why? Because the next day, I got given a whole new exercise to do. I passed that one, because I knew to be careful.

[pause]

"You learned from your mistakes, Elijah." He said to me. "Those 2000 'theoretical' guardsmen were only numbers, but as far as I see it, they just helped you save even more guardsmen by teaching you a lesson."

[pause]

Master Cain was good teacher, if a little... unconventional... in his teaching methods. Always soft-spoken. Not loud unless he had to be. Not like the other schola teachers. Or the other Progen. They're the closest things I ever had to a family, you know? Parents, brothers, sisters. The deranged uncle that everyone's supposed to have, or the tight-lipped aunt. Hahahah...

[pause]

By the Emperor, I miss them.

[pause]

I keep thinking, why did I have to get assigned here? I mean, Sturm was the hardliner Emperor-botherer, and he gets himself assigned to some Cadians. The 918th, I think.

[pause]

I could have gotten used to Cadians. They've got discipline, but enough of them trip up. Enough to make an example of. But... these Kreigers. They're... different.

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Firstly, they all don't have names. Just... numbers. Stenciled onto their longcoats, their lasguns, their knives, their helmets and even those Emperor-forsaken gas-masks they're always wearing. And I mean always! I mean... do they ever take them off? What at sight it'd be if I saw them all showering in their gas-masks. Especially the female half of the regiment... Hey! NO! DELETE! ERASE! Oh, damnation...

[ERROR! IMPACT DAMAGE RECORDED!]

-OPPIT! Oh, there we go. That's better, isn't it? Well, I'm not used to them anymore. Just got myself a posting as a regimental Commissar. Arriving here was... unceremonious, so to speak. Came out here from the Schola on Perlia in a merchantman, and then shuttled down here with the rest of the Kreiger's new boots. Let me tell you, I had plenty of time to find myself a snug fit!

[pause]

Well, anyway, I got down in the shuttle, shipped across in this civilian cargo-veetol, and arrived on their parade ground.

Had the Cee Oh and... hold on, that's not right.

[INPUT PARAMETERS CHANGED]

T E S T I N G... no, its got spaces in it... hold on, where's that...

[INPUT PARAMETERS CHANGED]

TEST. CO. VTOL. XO. Yep, now we're baking with flour! Anyway, the CO – hardliner man numbered #9283 dash 18... oh frakkit. Not the sharpest nib in the stationary locker, are you?

[INPUT PARAMETERS CHANGED]

#12-34-56. #34-56-78. #9283-18. There. #9283-18. A Colonel. No name given, it seems. Big man, even by Kreiger standards, has a gas-mask with an Ork tooth dangling from the quick-release tab. I think he's the one of the three people here besides me with anything resembling a personality. The other is his XO. Major #8273-45. Nice woman, if her breastplate is anything to go by, and has this little 'Rhine'-pattern hand grenade drawn onto her helmet. Within regulations, of course.

[pause]

I'm not sure why they're the only ones here besides me that has a personality. I think its because they're used to talking with non-Kreigers. 'Rearguarders' they call them. Disturbingly enough, they said not to worry that I get called a 'shell-magnet'. Its just their term for anyone above the rank of Captain, it seems...

[pause]

Odd metaphor. Well, anyway, I have a name, thank the Emperor. Commissar Elijah Enoch, at your service. Well, not yours, you're only an autoscriber, but I am at the service of His Majesty upon the Golden Throne. Wait... who'se there!

[pause]

What is it? Oh, its you #83. You've done your laps? That was fast... Good Emperor above, you're not even out of breath, are you! I wonder what they put in your filter tanks. Anything like those penal guardsmen? No? Nothing special? Well, if you say so, then.

[pause]

Well, got a new posting here with these Kreigers. The 526th Kreig Siege Regiment. They do it both ways, you know. Keeping people out or getting their way in. I guess you have to think like a defender to be an effective attacker.

[pause]

Right now, they're recuperating losses along with the rest of the siege regiments of battle-group Hammer. With everything out in central plains, its impractical for us heavy regiments to go crashing through those meadows and hills. And don't get me started with the forests. So instead, we're fortifying one of the smaller Hives out in...

[pause]

83? Where are you? No, not here... hey, you! Yes... uh... #6345! Oh, secondary designation? #68e, are you? What planet are we on again, trooper?

[pause]

Helm. Right. Helm II. Tolkien system, it seems. Well, we're in the smaller hives out by the coast, and we're here to make this place seem like a Space Marine Fortress Monastery. Or as good a defensible position as we can. They seem to enjoy it, the Kreigers, digging away. I think I saw a few skip when the quartermaster issued the entrenching tools and began breaking out the barbed wire.

[pause]

Anyway, I think that's enough for today. End. Halt. Stop. Whatever. Hey, #68e? How do you stop this thing? This button? Okay, here we go th-

[[Autoscribe session end.]]


Well, I hope that was enjoyable. As with any first chapter, the number of reviews will dictate whether or not I will continue this project of mine.