He, however, was nothing more than another red shirt. Michael still tried to imagine what was running through that kid's mind as he charged head long into the mob, his shouts of glory quickly turning to screams of terror as they ripped him apart.

Sorry to burst your bubble but you're not trutrans unless you're playing Nintendo. This is worth gatekeeping.

He was newly appointed to be Minister of the Interior.

‘No. I only opened the door a foot and put my head in. The street lamps shine into that room. I could see him. He was all right. Sleeping like a great grampus. Poor, poor chap.’