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[@Conscripts][@Dynamo Frokane][@Skyrte][@DracoLunaris][@Xandrya][@ReusableSword][@Poi][@AlShayatin]

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	He was glad that at least he had the decency to not ask straight away how Leningrad was. Thanh was a great guy, from the little talking they had it was a clear understanding of one another. There'd be no doubt that someone else would ask him or Thanh about their experiences in the different cities and their sieges. It was nice to have someone he could relate towards in this new Squad. Aleyev never would pinpoint himself as a veteran of war, just someone with enough experience to help him through it. But then again, no matter how much experience you have, one wrong move could lead to a bullet in the head. Those were the words of Yuri himself, their commanding officer for the time of their activation.

	When the Vietnamese man showed him the pictures of his own experimental gear given to him. Obviously Thanh and Aleyev were both already informed of the gear each and every soldier was going to get, but the others might as well have been blind as bats at this point. He took the picture from his dusted fingers off of him, analysing it close. It was a pyramid, almost, with a long pole beside it. Most likely being an attachment or additional mechanism. On the words were simple key words, but the one which caught his eye the most was 'Mine'. The idea of it seemed radical in his mind, but Aleyev had a good idea of how it would be used, especially by someone like Thanh. He smiled, chuckled and patted the back of his new Vietnamese friend.

[color=Red][b]"You sir...You have one hell of a job to do, with this equipment."[/b][/color] He chuckled once more, pulling a photo of his own out. [color=Red][b]"This, however, is mine. Russian genius called Atyre invented it. They are calling it the Support Handgun, 48th Edition. Not really sure on what it does, but, well, that's what this short training induction is for, am I right?"[/b][/color]

	As he finished his sentence, Aleyev walked over to the designated officer holding his papers, he looked towards it, holding the file and folder until he could make out the paragraphing going on about the dormitory accommodation. Before he had the time to scan it, another voice raised itself over from his shoulder. This time, it was a uniformed Russian, like his own, with a face as a solid brick. As Aleyev turned his body to face him, he was handed a small letter.

[color=Green][b]"Yanovich...Announce these for me, then proceed to go to your designated sleeping quarters. Make sure everyone else goes to theirs, this letter states who is in what room with one another."[/b][/color] The Sergeant telling him to do so nodded, before turning and walking off, not giving Aleyev the time needed to respond or make sense of what his orders were. He looked down at the nearly handed letter, opening it from its concealment. What he saw was simple. A list of people, all assigned to what rooms with who. At first, it seemed odd, you had the genders amongst one another, but also nationalities split and merged into one another's rooms. Some people had three in a room, others were only pairs. The layout was weird, but it did seem to show some signs of diversity, maybe getting the soldiers out of their comfort zone.

	Eventually, Aleyev raised his voice, waving the letter in the air. He waited for the room to go silent as he prepared his improvised speech. It wasn't going to be anything major, just the simple task of assigning rooms without the officers having to waste their own voices on such a mere task.

[color=Red][b]"Excuse me, can I have your attention shortly?"[/b][/color] The room eventually died down drastically in the noise it bared. [color=Red][b]"Here, I have a letter which'll assign you to your rooms. Please...uhh...try not to complain, I'm not the one making these decisions. Oh and also, I apologise if I pronounce your name incorrectly."[/b][/color]

	When he made sure everyone was listening, he huffed to himself. He adjusted the scarf he had picked up off of a German corpse back in Leningrad, one that he took with him ever since as a charm of luck during the winter. He looked back out at the soldiers and reservists chosen for their ultimate task for the Soviet Union, and possibly the world too.

[color=Red][b]"These names are to be assigned to accommodation Block C. Inside, there are different rooms, some for two or three people...or something like that. Anyway. For Room 2, we have...Thanh Pham and Zoyka Stepanovna. In Room 3, there is Helga Branwulf and Milena Kuznetsov. Room 4 holds Victor Asimnov and Gerhard von zur Burg. And finally, in Room 5...Aleyev Yanovich, Vera Volkov and Naomi Robinson...I think I pronounced those right. Start heading to your dormitories. Lights out in 2 hours. Food is waiting in your rooms. Uhh...That is all?"[/b][/color]

	Aleyev folded the note and placed it into his pocket, grabbing his bergen and getting an early start towards reaching his room. The dormitories themselves weren't a far walk, and those whose names weren't called out were likely going to be left to someone else to call out. On his travel, he saw many officers and staff walking around, yet very little of them were soldiers like those in the vehicle depot. Some wore white trench coats and long-jackets, as if they were some of the men and women too smart to fight the war...

	Eventually, he reached the location he desired, walking into the room. The sight of the room surprised him, quite so, instantly. It was large, larger than the not-so-wide corridor that connected the rooms together. There was plenty of room, a separate bathroom and three separate beds for the three residents of the rooms. There were several storage containers and areas to hang up uniform. It was almost a luxury in comparison to what he'd been living in back in Kursk and Leningrad. Especially Leningrad. On his bed laid a wooden tray, with a bowl of what looked like a type of soup. Whilst it ruined the luxury, it was understandable with the difficulties of rations and food being handed around the colossal behemoth that was Russia. Ahead of the others, he sat onto his bed, removing both of his boots and lounging across the somewhat comfortable bedding, tray on lap. Aleyev tucked in, before the others had arrived, and awaited their arrival.