Gorodetsky sat deleting messages from one 'Yop Solo' without even reading them. If he couldn't apply in person, he wasn't getting behind the controls of a fighter. As simple as that.
As Heinrich Geusau entered, the Commissar was removing the garish name tags that Commander Weise had left everywhere.
He humoured the recruit, allowing him to blabber for a while. When he mentioned Friedrich Nietzsche, his hand instinctively reached for his pistol, but he didn't draw, allowing him to finish.
The Commissar sighed, running his free hand through his hair as he drummed the fingers of the other on his pistol's grip.
"You're long winded, aren't you? You better not be some overblown Nietzschean nihilist, right?"
As he spoke, he put a cigar to his mouth, after, of course, sniffing for traces of explosives. He sparked up and awaited his, hopefully short, answers.
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