[The camera turns on and he looks rather annoyed, or possibly tired. Possibly both.]

I am looking for spare aviation parts. My rate of breakdown is increasing prohibitively, I am also in the market for ammunition and ordnance, if such is available outside of official channels. I would prefer to avoid being a burden to the city administration, if

[When the video feed comes on, he is obviously not in the best of moods. The cut on his forehead and the way he holds himself as if he has been knocked around also is obvious. There is smoke behind him]

This is Officer Hans Von Hammer, calling on an open channel. I require the services of someone with a lift truck of some sort.

[He looks behind ( Read more... )

[He is holding a piece of paper when the camera comes on, and wearing full uniform. His still-new police badge has a place of honour next to his Iron Cross, First Class.]I am in need of some specialized equipment, and perhaps there are people here who can aid me. I require some form of netting. Quick spreading, collapsible. Rope is insufficient, ( Read more... )

[He appears in front of the camera, in full uniform, the Iron Cross - first class - on his breast and the Pour Le Merite in its usual place at his throat. Then he holds up a new sort of medal - one he wouldn't trade for the world, right now. A police badge.]

I wish to give my greetings to my new kamaraden - sorry, my new comrades - in the police ( Read more... )

[He's outside of an aircraft this time. In fact, he has been curiously absent from the skies of late. But the Hammer of Hell isn't giving any explanation of that]

Some time ago I made an offer to Herr Grey, about offering my assistance to the constabulary here. That offer still stands, if anybody in the organization cares to hear it.

[He pauses a ( Read more... )

[The camera is, initially, left upon the ground. It seems to be looking at a deserted road at the outskirts of the city. One of those ubiquitous, dying industrial areas that cities tend to acquire. Then, a minute or two of nothing happening later, there is a red dot in the sky. And it is low, and moving fast. It blazes past the camera, with enough ( Read more... )

[He isn't in uniform. He wears, instead, a decent suit, a tasteful blue. The jacket isn't on, and the waistcoat is unbuttoned, the tie is loosened, and the shirtsleeves are rolled up. That sort of casual that somebody who wears suits regularly can carry off. He is smoking, a habit that has increased since he arrived here. Partially this is owing to ( Read more... )

[The image flickers on. Von Hammer has long since thrown away the hated Luftwaffe uniform. A good deal of his money was lost making a deal with an elderly tailor of German descent for what replaces it. He wears, once again, his Imperial uniform from 1918. A replica, to be sure, but the tailor did his work well. As the video begins he removes his ( Read more... )

[He has carefully set up the camera, clearly not at all familiar with the technology yet.]

Good evening. It has been bought to my attention that here, blessedly, the war has been over for sixty-five years. For me it is still a matter of weeks, which as you might understand, is somewhat problematic.

[A slight pause]To put it mildly. I begin to ( Read more... )

[He awakens slowly, and sees nothing but sky. For a split second, a smile flickers across his face, looking up at that empty, perfect sky. Then two wars' worth of combat instincts flare back into life, and he sits up with a jerk. He gets to his feet, checking at his side to make sure his side arm is still there ( Read more... )