Dangerous! Ask about him first. You don't want personal facts about his dead friend…

Dangerous! Ask about him first. You don't want personal facts about his dead friend coming out of your mouth -- he has to start it.

"Who are you?"

"Sergeant Major Raul Kortenaer -- reporting in to burn this fucking mud hut to the ground!" He points at the Whirling-in-Rags...

As he moves, the interlocking pieces of his armour click, softly.

...click, click, click! The realization comes to you, like a picture puzzle coming together: His name is Raul Kortenaer -- the dead man's name is Ellis Kortenaer. He's brothers with the deceased!

No -- probably foster brothers! Ellis was put into a foster home, remember...

...and then he bellows: "For killing, maiming and humiliating our commanding officer -- you're all sentenced to death by lead!"

"His parents left him in a fucking leaf compactor."

"Who... Lely?"

"Yes. When he was small... just an infant."

"We researched him. We contacted the ICP and looked at his birth records. That was in there. And other things..."

"They fucking put Lely in a leaf compactor and now these cunts finished the job..." He waves at the gang huddled by the doors.

There's real anguish in his voice. A drunken sadness suddenly engulfs him. Memories...

"It's a mind-fuck, Korty. He wasn't put it a leaf compactor. They're making it up to fuck with us." She glances at him. "Major, permission to..."

...open fire -- we can't have that. Interfere, now!

"Banaital, '41... that really happened didn't it?"

"Our colonel did what he had to do. It was either one cunt, or a hundred of them. Ruud here..." He points to him.

"... in your shit-pipes, right..." Indecipherable mumbling.

"He likes to fire mortars at random coordinates. Wipe out mud-huts like that. When he gets bored. Lely knew how to command."

"He was a good commander. I can see you miss him."

"Oh yeah, he would have commanded this fuck-hell way better than I did. But that didn't happen, because Hayseed Bill and Kipty the Kipt here..." he points to Titus and Eugene.

"...fucking murdered him. Had him stink the village up for two weeks after. And you fucks did nothing." He points at you.

"Listen, man. We told you we..."

"Told us WHAT?!" He staggers forward. "What did you say? Tattoo-fuck, you'll die NEXT. Right when the she-kipt's out..."

"Told us WHAT?!" He staggers forward. "What did you say? Who said that? Tattoo-fuck -- you'll die FIRST."

(Conclude.) "Your colonel did not deserve to go out like that. I promise -- I will find his killer."

"Find his killer?! Cop, his killers stand right there!" He waves at the men behind you. "Shitting their pants -- and you're standing in the way protecting them."

"They... they didn't..." The woman holds on to her side, teeth rattling.

"Shush..." He squints at her. "Blood's all gone out now. Not long to go till the rattle starts. One down, girl -- seven to go..."

Big talk, but that leaf compactor won't leave his mind any time soon. It's a small thing -- but it got him off centre...

Big talk, but you got him to admit he's a bad leader. It's a small thing -- but it got him off centre...

This did nothing. You think you were on to something?! You just wasted time... please, act.

"Find his killer?! Cop, his killer stands right there!" He waves at the men behind you. "Shitting his pants -- and you're standing in the way protecting them."

"I know what this tactic is, Silo Sam." He stares at you, eyes pink from the alcohol -- fingers tapping the pistol. "You're gonna die for them. Right here. Today."

"He had blue eyes didn't he -- your colonel."

"Baby blue, yeah... Like someone fucked up and put a baby's eyes on a grown man." He smiles, pulling his face in a strange way.

"It was creepy, but bitches... bitches like that shit, I guess. Or... I don't know what bitches like. I just know how to mow down cloths."

"Listen, your Lely -- everyone says good things about him. He was a talker."

"Fuck do you mean talker?"

"We've heard testimony. People say he was charismatic. A nice guy to be around."

"Yeah, he liked to chat up the natives. Share leaflets, squeeze a bit of kipt ass here and there. Great fucking idea that turned out to be..." He points toward the yard.

"If Lely was here, he would spare the lot of you. Maybe shoot one for show. But me..." He points to himself. "I'm not a big fan of public affairs, clay-monkey. I'll gun every one of you down for what you did."

"Ready to open fire, major. At your command."

This one isn't used to being suited this long. She's uncomfortable; will open fire just to hurry things along.

"Kortenaer -- I know that name."

He sways from left to right, inspecting you.

"Raul and Ellis Kortenaer..." Look him in the eye. "I'm sorry about your brother, Raul."

"He wasn't my fucking brother! We just grew up on the same farm and got beat into place by the same sick fuck..."

Beaten by a foster parent, or someone on the farm?

"And then went to the same military academy. And the same unit. And the same war..."

"Same fucking mudhut town too..." he looks around, then wipes his face with his armoured glove.

Okay. Good.

"You were foster brothers. I know that."

"You don't know shit. Lance Corporal, why don't you.." He turns to the radio officer on this right...

You lost him. Quick!

Don't let him finish the sentence!

Korty -- Kortenaer. Major Raul Korty Kortenaer. Friends with Lely. Raul and Lely.

"I knew you weren't a god damn scab leader!"

"Yeah, I don't fucking act so well. Lely had a hard-on for making faces for you natives. Fucking food-aid shit..." He wipes his mouth. "That shit is done now. Trigger time."

Of course! Nothing bad will happen. Talk about his dead friend! He seems stable enough to take it.