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People don’t survive childhood on Wedel. The personhood is cauterised - a process of breaking all the soft edges off until all is left is shards.

Gunda Riehl, born a Unioner, will definitely die a Unioner. She’ll die a Unioner’s death - chewing the ear off a police officer who finally smashes her cheek down on the bonnet of skycar, of suicide, a bullet to the crania - a fight over choice pickings. Decompression in a dying hulk. Shot in visceral rage by some decker whose crew she’d projected plasma holes through the torso of. Killed by her own slaves.

Gunda Riehl is the flesh-proof that the Union's culture of impersonal brutality works - the conceptual brainchild of a mutilated system - the scar that keeps the gangrene out.

Nobody knows much about her except for the few anecdotes she fires off when she’s gratified about murdering someone who tried to stiff her first, but what she’s revealed is enough to infer. Born to unknown slaves within a Wedel labour team, Gunda, like any child under the Union roof, was raised by the station that housed her. At the far sprig of the ration tree and surviving by thieving from those weaker than her, Gunda is a volatile hot mess who believes absolutely and entirely in the Union way of life. Whilst there is some inference that Gunda carries a moral conscience - she remains perpetually fond of her comrades, and takes a parental view to the war-bands at her command, Gunda has a view of the world that can be simplified into one of pointed, direct, animal amorality; you take from me, and I will take from you.

Whilst neither an exceptional pilot nor a particularly disciplined individual, Gunda has gained extreme notoriety within law enforcement circles for her ruthless efficiency at pushing conventionally self-interested Unioners to fly to hell and back for her, exacting blood prices from the arterial stream of civilian traffic between Stuttgart and Texas. More disturbing is the range of operations Gunda has managed to involve herself in - as a psychologically useful commander, Hansel Garen himself frequently places Gunda on the command deck of vessels he wishes to operate in situations bearing considerable personal hazard to the crew, as go-to hatchet-woman, the ever-present face of Squadron One’s operations from Bering to Speyer and beyond.

It is believed she maintains quasi-romantic relations with Oberst Mary Annelise Dross, in breech of (albeit, laxly enforced) Union flight protocol.