The Recruiting Officer barged in through the door.
His hover chair barely missed several idlers gawping at the posters on the walls; the animated action shots of brave BAF pilots downing the hordes of hapless Kusari ships whilst waving at the viewer with heroic panache.
His face set, determined not to respond to the questioning looks from his staff, he crashed into his office and slammed the door shut.
Damn that woman - damn her. It was only supposed to be one night - ONE NIGHT! One little trip away from the madness of this city and the endless drudge of processing more meat for the grinder. She worked him, she moved him, she weakened his resolve and one night became two.......
Gah! A sodding Admiral had to check up - not just any old admiral THE Admiral! Why hadn't his automated systems dealt with the surge of recruits keen to lay down their lives for the Queen?
Well, there was nothing he could do. The damage, if any, was done. The only thing he could do was get back to work and hope it all quietened down.
He skimmed through the top 3 applications and smiled at the mixed bunch:- Roger Ring, Solomon Oleander
and some bloody Sergeant from the dirty feet brigade called Alexander J. Coulson
"Process!" he ordered, and his terminal obeyed.
"Tea!" he ordered, and Miss Brown sweetly assented over the intercom.
![[Image: 10qdnc1.jpg]](http://i36.tinypic.com/10qdnc1.jpg)