A Confident young man began to ascend the steps that led to the recruitment offices. As he slowly ascended the metal staircase, he began to reflect on all that went into getting him here. "The Glorious Red Banner" He thought silently...he was truly grateful to be here...even if it meant his death, as the Commisar's reputation preceded him. Upon entering the offices, he was shocked to find them almost completely bare...not a soul was in sight, save the receptionist robots. After being seated in one of the steel chairs seeming randomly spread about, he began to study the room. Harsh, Cold...un-inviting. Unlike others he did not look upon it with disdain, he rather liked such a setting. It reminded him of his station aboard the bare bones Hessian outpost deep in the Omegas. Toughened by war, disciplined by his masters, and as cold as they came, he sat completely still, not moving a muscle, as he awaited the summons. "Number 3" It was a welcome sound. Running his hand through his military-style buzz cut, he made his way to the door. ENTER! Unshaken, he proceeded to enter the room, and fulfill what he believed to be, his duty. "Sir! Recruit 3 Reporting Sir!" Herr Commisar swiveled in his chair, contemplating his next move. "What do you want boy?" His voice made certain that the young potential recruit had probably ended his young life by entering the recruitment office. Unshaken, the recruit proceeded to explain his intentions. "Sir! this recruit wants to become a soldier of the Revolution Herr Commisar Sir!" [i] Herr Commisar paused, as though contemplating a creative way in which to kill such a one. Undeterred, Recruit 3 maintained his excellent military posture, awaiting the reply of Herr Commisar.
