Hey all, a few weeks into my latest game and the party has just been settled in with the remaining members of their penal regiment, to which they'll be attached for the next few adventures. But I could use some help developing some npcs to fillout this group of 40 imperial convicts forced to play mining canary and bullet stopper brigage for the real soldiers. After their first big battle these are the 40 (47 with the pcs) men out of 1500 who survived, so they've got to have something going for them.

What I'm looking for is a brief - about one paragraph - description of an npc likely to have got himself thrown into a penal colony for crimes real or imagined. I can do a fair ammount myself, but after a while they may start sounding the same or falling back on my favorite tropes, so I could use help expanding the depth and character of this troupe which has taken to calling itself the "Blackbirds". (based upon an in game legend that Blackbirds are the spirits of the dead, perpetually trapped between realms, unliving, yet undying, unresting)

Thanks.

Melvin Spather

Description:

A short skinny balding man whose skin hangs off him like it was made for someone three times his size. Spather's uniform is disheveled and shows signs of combat damage, even hist explosive collar has scratches and scortch marks from near misses on its casing. The only thing that is clean is his lasgun. While worn, his lasgun is spotless and well maintained and never leaves his grasp even when sleeping, using the latrine or bathing.

Quirks:

When at rest Spather is almost preternaturaly still, so much so that if not for his constantly moving eyes, one might think him dead. His wild stare is unnerving, always trying to look everywhere at once. He speaks very rarely and when he does it is short minimal communication in a hollow emotionless tone devoid of caring about anything. When Spather does move it is with the minimum motion necessary to do so. This has resulted in suprising stealth and speed. Between his quiet, stillness, and boring demeanor Spather can slip into a place and have no one register of his presence until his chooses to speak, sometimes even when they're looking right at him. Further Spather has an uncanny knack for swiftly finding and getting into cover whether in combat or out.

History:

Melvin was once a fat and happy lower-mid-level Imperial world bureaucrat. Then he was caught skimming off the Imperial Tithe. While the amount wasn't even a fraction or a fraction of the tithe from even one of the cities of his homeworld, he was declared traitor and sentenced to the Penal Legion.

Everyone, including Melvin Spather, expected him to die within the first few seconds of entering combat. He didn't. By some quirk of fate or luck, Melvin Spather survived one mission after another. Sheer mind pulverizing terror melted the fat off Spather in mere weeks. Face to face with the brutality of war, Spather's lasgun became his only friend and hope for salvation, seeing him through mission after mission. Spather has spent the last several months in near constant combat and his survival of no less than seven suicide missions had begun to concern even the Commissar in charge of his penal unit.

Spather's identity has been scoured by fear and battle even more than his once corpulent body. He speaks so rarely, and that no one knows if he even has a personality left. He seems to do only two things, follow orders and survive. The only thing left of the man Spather once was is skin of a very fat man hanging loose on his malnourished frame.

Dane Nolam

Description:

If he were in any uniform other than that of a penal trooper, Nolam would look like he stepped of a recruiting poster. He's tall, muscular, athletic, and Hansome. Nolam caries himself with perfect military bearing and keeps his gear in regulation perfect condition. He looks, sounds, and acts like the perfect soldier.

Quirks:

Nolam behaves like a recruiter's dream. He is a skilled and thoroughly trained soldier, familiar with his gear, and seemingly a perfect fit for military life. He follows orders to the best of his capability, and he has proven extraordinarily capable. He is cheerful friendly and doesn't even seem to mind that he's in a Penal Legion instead of a guard unit. Nolam seems reliable and trust-worthy, brave but not in a obsessed-with-being-a-hero-get-his-squad-mates-shot sort of way. He seems like just the type of man you'd want to share a foxhole with. No one can imagine how someone like him ended up as a Penal Trooper.

History:

Nolam had a brilliant career in the PDF of his homeworld. His colleagues and superiors thought him the ideal soldier, destined for greatness. Then the mutilated bodies started turning up. It turns out that under his heroic and charming apparent perfection, Dane Nolam is a sexual sadist serial murderer without even the slightest shred of compassion or humanity. At the time of his sentencing over a hundred victims had been identified and still more were continuing to be found as he was shipped off world to die in the name of the Imperium.

Above are the first two ideas I had. When I think of more I'll add them.

Well, here's one. I ave ideas for several more and, if I find the time, will be posting them shortly.

Maandi the Monster

Description:

The Monster is one large slab of muscle and murder with arms that could squeeze the life out of a grox and a face so scared, it barely looks like it belongs on a human much less anything living. A venomous one-eyed hate filled scowl seems to be the only expression left to the ruined face -an emotion which seems to be eternally reflected in Maandi's soul, if there's one left that is.

Quirks:

Maandi the Monster is loud, boisterous, and always a hair's breath from maddened mindless violence, more then likely to be perpetuated with scared fists or the recently (and repeatedly, no matter the flogging received) refitted Las Gun with a massive rusted blade scavenged from one of their enemies turning the noble Las Gun into something of an ax. When in combat, Maandi seems hell bent on tearing the enemy up with her "ax" or bare hands in a maddened furry and has the Frenzy, Berserk Charge, and Furious Assault talents.

History:

Maandi the Monster wasn't always The Monster nor was she always a maddened killing machine with a face that could stop a run away macro-haller. There was a distant time in her life when she was Maandi Ulga Hammerfell, the second of three virtuous, beautiful, and cultured daughters of the powerful Hammerfell merchant family. Unfortunately, she caught the eye of a young noble who belonged to a family the Hammerfells were looking to make long term business arrangements with. Deals were struck, trades were made, and Maandi soon found her self engaged to be married to Constantius Grabauskas III of the Haar-Akaar Hegemony , a man so obsessed with her beauty he traded half is fortune to the Hammerfells in contractual obligations to have her in is marriage bed. So strong his obsession and weak is will, however, that he couldn't wait for the contracts to be finalized before he took her virginity and claimed her as his.

She had no love nor liking for the man and is advances on her before the contracts were even finished was something which violated the very principles she had been raised with. She refused to put up with such actions from such a man and resisted, sticking him and lighting a fire in his brain that couldn't be put out. Violence ensued as he ravaged her face and body releasing is pent-up frustrations, rage, and sexual urges upon her. When he was spent, she fled streaming blood in her wake, her flesh hanging from her face in tatters looking for anyone that could help her before being found by the Haar-Akaar House Enforcers.

Both families tried to keep the political fall-out of this travesty as quiet as they could while still salvaging as much of the business arrangements as possible. Constantius was sent to a sanitarium for mental reform colloquially referred to as The Screaming Tower while Maandi was sent far out of sight and mind, convicted of assault and genetic theft. She was put to work in the mines of a penal colony where life was sort and brutal, something she was becoming accustomed to. Se didn't break under the harsh conditions but, instead seemed to flourish. Pounds upon pounds of muscle built up beneath her ruined skin as her new environment incubated the seeds of violence and hatred that had been planted in her. Soon they sprouted and she erupted killing 12 men in the mines with her bare hands as well as placing three armed guards in the infirmary before she could be brought down, but not for good -and so began the last phase of her life as a penal legionare.

In the blood and gore of war the sprouts of malice has grown into a full blown red jungle of blood as she has slaughtered her way to survival through engagement after engagement. On and off the battlefield, there's but one thing that fuels her and keeps her going: the need to kill Constantius, a need that is sated but never fully fulfilled as she sees him in every enemy she faces and kills him again and again and again...

Edit: sorry for getting carried away on the history. I'll be more brief in the future...

"Bandit" Vargast

Vargast is short and unremarkable man in his mid-20s, hailing form the agri-world of Regulus with big blue eyes and a roguish smile that freezes into grimness after the first seconds. Vargast was part of a bandit group on his homeworld which ambushed travellers and robbed loan convoys that travelled the farming areas. After a few successfull month, the planetary authorities decided to dispatch a whole PDF company to the mountain ridge they were operating from. After some weeks of hide and seek, the PDF soldiers made short work out of the bandits. Vargast was one of the view that where captured rather then shot and sentenced to service as a penal legionary.

His forma "occupation" makes him a usefull scout and his experiences in ambushes and combat situation paid out for him...till now.

Loenida

A small 17teen year old girl from the hive of Sastropol with a a body like a wiry and a face like a fish, "Beauty" Loenida belonged to a family sentenced to penal duty for the crime of forging food coupons. The family ended up in different companies by design.

Loenida was raped after he deployment by a comrade. The comrade was later found garotted in one of the latrines. Loenida never speaks with a man and will leave if approached. Most of the other give her as wide a berth as possible. She isn´t stong, but has a lot of endurance, an iron will to survive and reflexes that rival a cat. He fighting skill are, however, mediocre. While far away from being smart, she a quick thinker and never seems to be surprised.

"Brother" Talchen

A hollow faced and slightly hunched figure with a pale-yellow skin, Talchen was a forma lay brother who got excommunicated for preaching a dogma in contradiction to the believes of his "home world" (Asteroid Mining Colony Venda 3709) and "disturbing peace and civil order".

The little spare time a legionary has, he spend with prayer, chastening his flesh and reading the only religious book he was allowed to keep with him. The catechismn of hate. "Brother Talchen" isn´t popular with his comrades since he is still a feverent believer with a faith that even know they are living "according to His holy plan" and that they are "still fullfilling his work". His "saving grace" is that he is (albeit his fanatic nature) a calm listner that does not judge and sees in every men his equal. That, and a keen sense to when it is best to back off and leave his next alone.

Volich

A tall and weather-beaten figure in his end 30s with a big brown beard a ritual tribal scarings all over his face, Volich is a wild warrior form a wild world whom seems to be grim and occupied with a burden that never seems to leave him. Only if battle is near, his mood lightens a little. His comrades expect him to be barbarian not please if not spilling blood, but his is far from true.

Recruted for the imperial guard, he failed at adapting and "kept true" to his tribal customes. This included duelling in matters of honour. While this pratice was tolerated in his regiment, it lead to a major incident during a joint operation with another IG unit.
Volich will never ever duell again, since to him his "displacement" devoided him of all "warriors valour and honour", turning him "into a dog of war rather then a man of war". Even if he isn´t understanding the "why", he is utterly except that hes been disgraced by his "Lord of Honour" (Officer). Everything he is waiting for now is "death in combat" so at least his afterlife will be free from shame.

Varr "Three-fingers" Helion

Varr is a small mousy looking man in his early 20s, he joined the Salvaran PDF to escape a life of poverty, being on of the few men who where literate when he joined he quickly found a post in the quatermasters store. It was not long after this that items began to dissaper from the stocks and when an audit was carried out. Var was found to have disposed of a large quantity of goods and made a profit it should have been the death penalty for him, but due to his trade he was able to buy of the PDF officer and was instead transfered to a Penal legion.

Since the Var has shown a knack for accquring goods that others in the regiment want and has carved a niche for himself. He earned his nickname after a discontened customer atacked him Var lost a finger, while his attacker had his throat cut. Var is not a great fighter but what he lacks in skill he makes up for in utter ruthlesness.

Mleet Nguamba

A stocky man of dignified bearing who knows only a handful of words in Low Gothic. His face is covered in strange scars, and he has let a small amount of dark hair grow out from the buzzcutt he recieved upon joining the legion. He is remarkably skilled at communicating in gestures, and those with the patience for pantomime or some teaching skill will probably find him a more pleasant conversationalist than most of his follow legionaires. Likewise, his strange battle cries have a knack for inspiring courage in his allies and terror in his enemies.

Mleet is from Malek, a small feral world on the edge of the Hazeroth Abyss which is only visited by tithe ships once in 300 years. This world is little short of a death world, but its flora and fauna contain several rare chemicals with a staggering range of medical and military applications. The Ngaumbas are one of six families provided by the Imperium with advanced military and storage technology in exchange for overseeing the harvest and logistics of the world's tithe. Unforunately, they were also on the wrong side of a vicious power struggle when the most recent tithe was due, and were successfully framed by rival families for the embezzlement of a rare life-extending plant from their tithe and "witchcraft." His family was summarily deposed by the tithe ships and sent to the penal colonies.

Unfortunately, due to the relative obsurity of Malek and the handful of other worlds along the length of the route by which it is reached, the tithe ships were accompanied only by a single Inquisitorial delagate to oversee its Psyker tithe, an overworked Savant-Interrogator. When he detected no obvious psychic power from Mleet's family, he very reasonably assumed that the charges of witchcraft were simply a garden-variety escalation of the otherwise legitimate accusations made by his enemies.

In reality, all the ruling families of Malek dabble in sorcery. Mleet is no exception, and has the talents Sorcery and Sublime Arts. His Minor Arcana are Fearful Aura, Inspiring Aura, Resist Possession, Suggestion, and Sense Prescence. His sole Major Arcana is Personal Augury, which he deploys with the trappings of his Trade (Soothsayer) skill. For all this, he is a relatively loyal ally, and honestly believes that he is a faithful servant of an aspect of the Emperor which aides the rightful rulers of Malek in return for certain sacrifices...

Mel "Quick" Bibly

Mel is a gaunt, but pleasent-faced boy of sixteen with a shock of brown hair which has already grown in enough to be unruly. Quick is so named for how swiftly he gets into trouble, and indeed, he seems to have been born without the slightest hint of caution. If asked, he will claim that he was imprisioned for seducing a nobleman's daughter. Quick is also quick to lie, and does so compulsively, if with only a hint of skill. In reality, he was arrested for grave-robbing. Although the tomb of the minor cleric he defiled did contain some valuables, he actually dug up the grave on a dare. The presence of a Guard ship transporting penal legionaires and his youthful charm "saved" him from summary execution.

Katherine "Kat" Malone

A stout middle-aged woman who still retains a hint of dignified beauty. She was sent to the legion by a corrupt Arbites officer whose advances on her fourteen-year-old daughter she she confounded by hiding children with a relative in the distant part of the hive. Kat knows she will only see her family again at the side of the Emperor, and fights with determination and talent that often suprises her fellow legionaires.

Art Dentsworth:

A rather plain man in his late 30s. Art was a low-ranking adept sent into the legion by a bizzare bureaucratic error in the application process for a driving permit. Oddly enough, he fights with a berserk fury which impresses even feral worlders. He has developed a literal taste for blood, and may or may not be possessed by a minor demon.

Wallace Miles Tarnsden:

The third son of a Malfian nobleman, Tarnsden was born with a vanishingly small level of Psychic talent. Despite his pitiful level of talent, Tarnsden was somehow taken from the Black Ships and successfully Sanctioned. The process left him "Throne Wed" and rather bitter about it. A drunken rampage at the Scholastica Pyskana saw him sent to the Penal Legions, where he continues to drink or snort anything that offers even momentary escape. He also gambles compulsively, and due to his three Minor Powers, Trick, Knack and Lucky, wins fairly consistently (Tarnden has a Psy Rating of 1 and cannot develop his powers further, but also not powerful enough to provoke Perils of the Warp on a Phenomena roll- treat rolls above 25 as no effect). Despite his fond wishes otherwise, these talent have thus far also prevented him for meeting a suitably quick and drunken end in combat. Tarnsden is wonderful company if you like misathropic eunichs who steal your booze and beat you at cards. A frequent choice for suicide missions, of which he is invariably the sole survivor.

Artemis Fox

Artemis firmly belives his only crime was being caught, he is in his late twenties pale skin long black hair black robes, in fact it was his hair that got him caught one singly strand of hair one DNA match and he was whisked of to prison, where his expertise on "removing" poeple without trace got him noticed, the only link between him and the mysterious deaths where the victims arguing with Artemis. fox found himself in a penal legion before too long he doesnt talk to anyone those who try are given a count of three or the find them selves unable to talk. the only other response is "my name is fox, now give me orders or go away, sir!"

I want to thank everyone whom has posted so far and everyone whom has yet to do so but will. These are all great NPCs and I will be making use of them all ... many of the writeups have also helped direct my thinking in the design of future 40k personalities. Thanks for the incredible turnout!

Conny Emm.

Conny M. is an infernis gunslinger girl from the Hive of GunmetaCity (Hiveworld Scintilla). Arrested at one of seldom raids (after a major gang conflict), "Conny M" (as she names herself) was given an option: "Volunteering" for the IG tithe or being trailed. She volunteered. As did some of the infernis gang her gang have been fighting with. Due to bad planing or bad luck, both groups where mixed in the same IG unit after training. A short flash of violence followed. Conny was again given an option: service in a penal legion or going before a military tribunal.

Conny is small, "thick for hive gal" and has a round face with hints of asian ancestry. Very unpleased with being handed a rifle as "standard arment", she "secured" a pistol as a field trophy as soon as possible. While she is ordered to carry a las rifle (like anyone else) she will drop this and draw her trophy gun as soon as this is making the slightest sence. And she is always willing to barter for a better "trophy weapon".
She is a good gunslinger, but a hot head. He recent "two major live lessons" help her to keep her calm a little, what soever.

Captain "Salvar" Jones
Captain Mordenius Jones is a penal legionair. But not from this sector. He started as "drafted" soldier from the chemowaste of planet known as "Salvar", a world known for breeding imperial scum on par (or worse) with Sinophia. He served for 20 years and survived. Jocking the system for so long, he came to terms with it. After the warp throw the ship whom carried him and his crew into Calixis, the "unrequested additional regiment" was used up in suicidal missions very quickly. The remaining men where used as "starting stock" for fresh penal legions.

"Captain Salvar" is short but rather athletic figure in his mid 40s. His body shows a lot of chemical burnings (heritage to the conditions of his homeworld) and a good share of scars from bullets and knifes as well. He may or may not still have his forma title, but would make a good officer due to his skill in leading scum like himself (and how to keep them from gutting you at night).

Kenzie

Description:
A tall man of medium build in his late twenties, he keeps his head shaved. This does nothing to hide the horrible scars on his mouth and throat, along with the back of his head. He supplements his uniform with work gloves, steel-toed boots and goggles. He is never seen with his tools and carries a heavy combi-spanner into combat. Dour and quiet, Kenzie rarely engages with the other troopers in the distractions that occupy a penal soldiers time. He spends most of his working on and repairing various items and he is well-respected for his honesty and everyone knows that if you take a broken tech-device to him you can expect to get it fixed (for a nominal fee).

Quirks:
The scarring extends beyond his head, he has scarred patches on the palms of his hands and anyone who gets to peer under his uniform will find the scars are worst around the bottom of his ribcage. Kenzie has a sold-looking augmetic replacing his left eye.

History:
Kenzie was born on the minor forge world Opus Macharius, and by coincidence his serial number was one digit different from another teen destined to become a techpriest. Kenzie was accidentally chosen and given the techpriest initiation and implants. When the mistake was discovered the adept responsible simply removed most of the implants to cover his mistake and rerouted the near comatose Kenzie onto a prison barge that had stopped for fuelling. When he awoke he was wearing the penal trooper’s uniform.

Maximus Slayer

Description:

An unrermarkable, non-descript man only distinctive for the near permanent look of utter bewilderment on his face.

Quirks:

Despite the fierce name slapped on him at birth, Max Slayer is a mild, even somewhat timid individual. He seems half zoned out like someone in the early stages of shock who doesn't quite get what's going on around him.

History:

A middle son of seven brothers born as close to exact mid-hive as one could ask for, Max Slayer spent his life as one of billions of the faceless masses of workers toiling to keep the Imperium in motion. Max always followed the rules, never looked for trouble and went about daily life just like anyone else. He was just a regular guy with a regular job in a manufactory like a billion others.

If not for the name his mother hung on him at birth, his life probably would have continued and ended as it began in complete banal obscurity. Then one day Max was arrested, tried for larceny, insurrection, and murder and sentences to a penal legion. It seems that someone else had adopted the fierce sobriquet Maximus Slayer as a street name for their crimes, and when the enforces looked up the name, well poor Max had to face the music for another's crimes. Of course no one ever explained all this to him, and Max is still confused as to how his life suddenly took this horrific turn. It's only just finally sunk in that no one will EVER listen to his protestations of innocence. Still hapless and bewildered, the only chance this penal legionarre has of surviving combat is that the enemy might find him too pitiful to waste the ammunition.

(Just had to throw this one in as nearly every penal trooper posted so far seemed to be one variety or another of badass. There have to be a few lemons in the bunch, its not like penal troops are recruited because of their competence)

DocIII said:

True, true.

But since we are talking about those that "are the 40 (47 with the pcs) men out of 1500 who survived" most of us seem to have expected that "they've got to have something going for them." Like Jack said

But I have to agree that some "non-mean-maneaters" are a good thing. After all, in open mass warfair survival could be as much depend on luck then it depends on skill... and hopefully the majority of us will never gain the first-hand experience to discuss about this matter!

Gregorius21778 said:

Agreed, agreed.

I just liked the idea than in there somewhere would be some poor hapless schumck who made through via a combination of pure dumb luck and the fact that no one saw him as enough of a threat to take the time to target him specifically. Some guy who's still going "but, but I'm not even supposed to be here today!"

(I'll admit its probably not too realistic, but this is an RPG, basically a mode of storytelling, so every once in awhile realistic has to take a back seat to interesting/amusing)

Barnabus "Doc" Hodge

Description:

Barnabus is a huge ham handed brute whose prodigious strength was matched only by his jiggling girth before his current stint. Of course the penal legions aren't known for their second helpings of nutrient rations so he has slimmed down considerably. Now his copious amounts of loose skin make him look like a body builder that ordered a skin four sizes too large. He stands just over 2 meters and weighs in at 127kg (down from 175).

Quirks:

The extra folds of skin found on Trooper Hodge have collected several planets worth of microscopic organisms to the extent that he is almost always fighting off one rash or another. The results also leave his skin somewhat scaly to the touch and overly moist in even colder climates. Additionally his special brand of odour is replicated no where else in the entire Segmentum.

History:

Barnabus doesn't talk about his past, and given his general size and hygene difficulties no one has pressed too urgently. He is an amazing field medic however, and his giant hands bely a steady and delicate precision for field triage, trauma surgery and stitching. Often intimidated by his smell, quiet demeanor and size, no one would voluntarily go under his knife. Yet anyone that has had their life saved by him in the past would attest to his skill. As a result a number of the troopers simply call him "Doc."

In combat he is not much use with a gun, tending to waste more shots than a typical soldier, but in close combat his strength serves him well.

Vic Spicer

Description:

Vic is a man of medium height and reasonably broad, extremely solid build. While in other places he might be considered a "big" guy, he's not a mountain of muscle or paragon of soldierly physique like some of the others among the surviviors. His head is clean swept bald and around his eyes and nose are the tell-tale scarring that one would associate with a prize-fighter. His callused knuckes, and the scars the other soldiers see on his body when he changes close tell a much more detailed story of desperate street fights and ugly battles and brawls.

Quirks:

He doesn't obsess with his appearance, but makes sure all of his gear is solid and reliable and won't fail him in a pinch. He rarely smiles, and when he does it's usually not the best omen for those he smiles at. That said he has a good, if somewhat cruel, sense of humor. Vic is ecellent at long term planning and giving orders, but while quite intelligent doesn't seem to have more than average talent for organizing larger than squad based operations. Vic can be cold and cruel any time he feels it necessary and won't step away from a messy kill if that is what he needs to make a point. He is fearless when he has to be, but will not stupidly run into risks with no payoff. Vic is absolutely loyal, but only to those very few who he has decided deserve it. Salvar Jones is the only soldier in the penal legion Vic calls "sir" on any regular basis.

History:

Vic was an up and coming operator in the Brotherhood of Thollos [i hope I remembered that right]. He built a small tight crew of leg-breakers and hard-ass operators who could take on criminal gigs larger and more complex than one would expect a team of thugs that size to be able to pull off. Then one of the higher-ups in the Brotherhood got pinched by the Arbitrators, and Vic, along with his guys, got swept up along with many others as part of the deal that the boss cut to get himself out of trouble. Through some very dirty tricks, some ugly fights and a few sharp tricks, Vic got his crew clear of the crackdown, but couldn't protect them and still get himself out. So he got shipped off to be a penal trooper. He saw most of the other troopers as low-grade scum, but when the bullets started flying he saw a few he felt had potential.

In one particularly bloody engagement Vic found himself next to Mordenius Jones (know as "Salvar" to his face and "chem-dog" behind his back by the troopers). About that time the Overseer commanding the penal troops got himself blasted to pieces too mall to count. Vic was sharp enough to realize that a lot less of the legionairres would have survived that mess if not for "Salvar" Jones' calmly growled orders and command savvy keeping them together and fighting as a unit rather than a headless mob.

Recognizing a man who might have the command experience to get some of the penal troopers through a fight alive, and who won't be so quick to see their lives as expendable like the official officers/guards, Vic has taken it upon himself to act as Salvar Jones' right hand man and enforcer. To this end Vic has been quietly putting together a new crew from within the surviviors to act as a core of cadre and bodyguards for the chem-scarred former officer, and having a quiet "word" with anyone who doesn't toe the line and follow Jones' orders in the field.

[thought it might be interesting, now that we have a few out there, to start putting in connections/dynamics between penal troopers]

Spather and Doc Hodge should start a weight loss club:

The Penal Legion Diet - "It'll take the pounds off one way or the other!"