#conralice

The was some maintenance being done on the internal server, so the commissar couldn’t do any of her usual paperwork.

She decided to get a workout in, but did it in her white shirt and skirt casuals.

[subject gazes skyward, wistfully]

I have invited her to do so once or twice and she has taken me up on it. However, the following morning she is always completely exhausted and unfocused. Like she hasn’t slept at all. I am not certain it helps.

[subject covers her face]

What? No..I don’t know..

She just stared at me as I fought to readjust my skirt then nodded thoughtfully, a little confused.

“That’s fairly impressive telekinesis for you , Boone. But what practical applications do you think it will have?”

I tried to explain - but I was so mortified and stammering. Her impassive gaze didn’t help. 

I was so red and stammering that I began to bead sweat. So she suddenly leaned really REALLY close to me.

“Boone, what’s wrong? Did using your powers make you sick? Are you feeling unwell?”

I could feel her breath.

I began to stammer more and lose my balance.

“Psychic phenomena! I’ve heard of this! Boone, you need to be more careful!”

She scoops me up into a bridal carry and runs to the sick bay with me, telling me off the whole time for pushing myself too hard.

She lays me down on a bed, removes her gloves and puts a hand to my face.

“A fever.”

She turns to the doctor.

There’s different sorts of mortification out there.

I wont lie - returning to my own body to discover my hair was wet and that my body smelled of soap and therefore had been washed while the commissar had been it it was titanically embarrassing. And her incredibly flat and logical explanation somehow made it worse.

If you borrow something from somebody and you get it dirty, you wash it before you return it. It’s just good manners.

She didn’t have to put it like that!

But I mean, on some level the commissar has seen me naked or undressed a bunch of times because she lacks any real sense of sexuality or social graces. I’ve...sort of gotten used to that.

But having my own clothes fight back against me and then have the commissar think I was sick was somehow a new and terrible sort of embarrassing.

Made me feel clownish.

Heh. That’s a tricky little question. Polato isn’t the sort to be tied down, as she is as curious as they come. 

Having said that, she has told Klon in as many words that she’d be willing to date her exclusively - which Klon has then rejected because she doesn’t want to dignify the notion that her and Polato are a couple.

Whenever Polato flirts with other people, though, Klon is across the room to break it up and drag Polato away the second fastest of anyone I’ve seen.

Huh.

Second fastest?

Who’s the first?

You know? The things that seem like a big deal are often easier to roll with. First off - she doesn’t hug me. Not as must people think of hugging. Not innnn 15 years.The chocolate, much as it is classically thought of as a romantic gesture probably went like this: The Major probably saw the Commissar putting a chocolate ration in her locker  and saw that it was piling up and just said:

‘Ey Conners. If you’re not gonna eat it you should just give it to Boone.’‘Why would I do that? It’s too sweet, And it’s bad for you.’

‘It’ll cheer her up. Give it to her next time she seems down. A happy psyker is safe psyker.’

‘Well, that is true.’

That’s not far from how it went , except that it was nothing like that concise. I’m not sure it’s ever taken me less than a minute to convince Conners she should listen to me. Outside of battle.

The speeches, well they’re not usually about me or how she feels about me and even if they were - she’s a morale officer. I’ve heard her try to bolster most people.

No, the Commissars real problem is with her complete lack of awareness or, voluntary disregard of normal social cues.

[subject pinches the bridge of their nose]

Where to begin?

Like, most people, if they enter a room to talk to somebody and that person is either getting dressed or undressed they will excuse themselves. Not the commissar. She doesn’t even turn around and then start talking she just leans against a wall, folds her arms and acts like nothing weird is happening. It’s not just me who has noticed this. It goes both ways, too. There was once an emergency transmission in the briefing room and she just ran there, straight from the pool. Wet footprints and all.

I said she hasn’t hugged me and I stand by that - but any time we need to run somewhere and I can’t keep up, she just picks me up and runs with me. Usually muttering about my choice of footwear.

Multiple times when we’ve been in a dangerous situation, like, we hear a mortar whistle or something, she just wraps around me and either presses me into the ground or against the nearest wall.

One of the worst ones for me is that she often, these days at least, seeks my insight on things as both a psyker and a commissarial aide. But I’m not good enough at mind talking to ‘talk’ to her like Cuddles. Instead she just leans down and whispers or mutters into my ear, so close that her lips keep brushing at it.

She is a menace to exercise with in that regard. If your form or stance is wrong, she wont explain it to you. She will demonstrate it exactly once then immediately lose her patience and just readjust your feet, hands and posture herself until you’re in the right pose.

You see the ongoing, overlapping problem, yeah?

[subject looks skyward, exasperated]

One time on a beach planet,  we were grabbing real quick R&R by a lake, I had missed a spot of sunscreen on the inner back of my thigh. The commissar just walked past and said ‘missed a spot’ and slapped some onto the bit I’d missed.