Lady Commissar-General Simone Thanh

At the end of an apparently interminable work day, Lady Commissar-General Simone Thanh had gathered the entire second front commissariat in the officer's mess of 22nd division's HQ. "People see me as matronly, not sexy." She was at a smaller table, with Michael Goldenrod, Carmine Petit and

Michael disagreed, but managed not to blurt out 'I beg to disagree.' He was in enough trouble, and in this company, he was the host, but also the most junior officer, in rate, if not in date of service. He had no idea why she was taking this tack, humanizing herself, or appearing to be trying to, at least. He knew her as every bit as human as he was, uncomfortably so.

"Excuse me sir, your meal."

"Thank you Esteves." Michael's Fusiliers's own mess had supplied the white-coated mess staff.

"You let ensigns in your mess?"

"I let Marsha run my mess, and division's, actually."

"Marsha?"

"Marsha Narvik, senior NCO, division HQ."

"That Marsha." The Commissar-general laughed. "I need to meet her someday."

"She accepts visitors, but seldom leaves the secured redoubt regs require her to inhabit."

"Oh, she's your PLACEHOLDER?"

"She's divisional placeholder, secured divisonal archives and all that."

"How long have you known her?"

"When I first met her, I was still playing with blocks... She's the first fusilier member I ever met, even before I met Sophia."

"And you, Commissar Petit?"

"I've not met her until a year later, I was still learning to walk at the time, and she was possessed of her own tricycle, after all..."

Simone laughed. "I meant, do you have a placeholder?"

"No, my candidate accepts it as an interim, but he's got the wrong specialties for it to be a permanent assignment."

"And do you allow ensigns in the mess?"

"I have no choice, only ensigns, and precious few of those, survived the 'event'. It's their room in the VanDoos."

"I have news on that front, remind me to talk about it with you tomorrow."

"Tomorrow? Not later today?"

"This is a party, Petit, live a little!"

Michael saw Carmine bristle, but conceded the senior woman's point, they'd been overdoing it lately, an evening to blow off steam would help everyone here. So intent was he on that he almost fell on his fundament when his commanding officer, Colonel Sophia Van Stoat walked on stage, with her bandmates.

"The fusiliers wish a hearthy welcome to our guests from the Commissariat. Michael told me to be nice to your ears, but of course, I can't have any of that..." There was subdued chuckles, Sophia admitted, maybe even Commissars got tired after enough executions. "In your honor, I've prepared three numbers for today." Then she deliberately didn't name them, only Michael had a written program, and he had been too busy to approve reproduction. As her band went into 'Am I blue?', she saw the commissars in the audience relax visibly.