In the few hours Reuben had to himself before being shipped off to Special Assault Corp training, he was able to vid-comm his parents. They had been thrilled by the news of his assignment. It was the kind of news every Imperium parent hoped to hear from their child.
Their approval had made Reuben burst with pride. Finally it felt like he was doing something with his life. Things could only go up from here.
The shuttle finally arrived to pick up the next batch of cadets to their respective assignments. The trip to the Special Assault training grounds was surprisingly short. Reuben could feel the other trainees staring at him when he was the only one to leave the shuttle at this stop.
I wonder what they are thinking of me?
The large building looming before him was clearly labeled the command center. The guard stationed out front told Reuben with a smirk that Sergent Bamtrob's office was down the hallway, second door on the left.
Though the guard was too well trained to say anything else, Reuben could tell the guard was silently laughing at him. As if to say: "there's the office, it's your funeral."
With trepidation Ruben walked to the office and knocked. A voice bade him to enter and he walked in confidently hoping his body language would cover up the uncertainty he truly felt.
To his surprise, there was no one sitting at the desk.
Before he even had a chance to look around a grip of iron grabbed him from behind and threw him to the ground with bruising force.
Reuben felt the breath get knocked out of his lungs and his vision was momentarily blurred. It was apparently a moment too long because his assailant was instantly upon him, pinning his arms and pushing a knife against his throat. If his attacker so much as twitched, the blade would pierce his skin.
"Are you Cadet Calloway?"
"Yes," Reuben croaked out, not daring to move.
"I'm Sergent Bamtrob and today your real work begins starting with replacing ever instinct you've ever had."