[ WP ] The last soldier of a once great empire sits alone in a small room . There is a knock on the door . Two men in uniforms have come for him .

Other than the rickety heater groaning in what seemed like agony, David sat alone in the small holding area. It held a few mismatched sofas and armchairs, but David had picked the most austere, straight-backed chair. Better to keep him alert and ready. The room had the dull beige look common in waiting rooms back in the day; somewhere in the back of his mind David has a hazy memory of reading books for children much younger than he as he waited for the dentist with his mother. 
 
 His mother, Esme, forever the pacifist. That had gotten her killed once the Emperor gained complete control over the city, and he rounded up all the protestors and `` did away with them.'' David had no idea how his mother died, but he realized it did n't matter. That was when he was fifteen, left all alone and terrified. If his mother had n't been killed, would he have still joined the Brigade? He thinks not. At that age, David wanted to be a lawyer, not some warm body equipped with guns, knives of all sizes, and other tools built to kill. Color rising to his cheeks, David knows that if she could see her son, Esme would be ashamed. 
 
 He swallows audibly and looks at his watch. It's been an hour since the haggard receptionist ushered him to the room and mumbled that the Nurses would come to see him shortly. *How damn long does that mean? I have other errands to run. Not to mention this room is fucking freezing! Guess they wo n't bother paying much to keep us warm anymore. * 
 
 Under the whir of the heater, trying so hard to keep David warm but utterly failing, there was a quiet shuffling. It took David a few seconds to hear it, and then recognize what it was. *Shit! It's happening! * 
 
 David had made the decision that led to this day nearly two months ago, on one of those powerful whims where his brain kept throwing out logical reasons not to follow it, but he could n't resist. Saying no would be like a final slap in the face to his mother. She would be so happy to see that the Empire had finally toppled, disintegrating like a cookie left in milk for too long, but devastated to see the pain and death it had wrought. Orphans were everywhere, crawling through the streets and stealing whatever they could, mewling like lost kittens. David was lucky that he had remained a Footsoldier, since the Emperor, in a last fit of paranoid rage, had executed all of the top- and middle-ranked officials, nearly ten thousand able-bodied men. That had been the last straw for his wife, who could bear no longer to watch her husband destroy what he had taken so long to create. She had killed him quietly in the night, and then herself, leaving the mess for someone else to discover and clean in the morning. The rest of them, including David, just sighed and continued to face the cold, hard days yet to come. 
 
 He could then hear quiet voices, muffled by the walls. There was a tightening sensation in his belly. They were coming. Half of him was screaming, *Finally! * but the other half was still clinging to the regimented life of a Footsoldier, where the physical labor was excruciating, but he never had to question where his life was going, or what he was going to do tomorrow, or the next day, or week, or year. He would keep training, herding people into their camps like cows, and guarding the so-called Important Citizens. But now, his future was uncertain. There were too many unforeseen turns that could surprise him, too many things for which he could be unprepared. 
 
 David could feel himself trembling like a frightened child, but he knew with a calm quiet force that what he was doing was right. 
 
 The door opened. Two Nurses, caps covering their prematurely greying hair, entered the room. In their arms was a small bundle wrapped in blankets. 
 
 `` David Martinez?'' one of the Nurses asked. 
 
 David leaped out of his chair, nearly knocking it over. `` Yes, I'm David.'' 
 
 The Nurse holding the bundle smiled tentatively. `` Here she is, David,'' she said quietly, as not to wake the baby. She handed the bundle to David. 
 
 He gazed upon the infant, so amazingly tiny. She had a small dark curl escaping from the blanket, and tiny fists tucked into her chest. Despite all the pain going on outside the room, she was at peace, and David felt the calm washing over him as well. He was going to be a father now, since there would be no Footsoldiers. It did n't matter that this baby girl was an orphan from unknown parents who probably died in the bombings - she was his, and that was all that mattered. 
 
 `` Do you have a name picked out?'' the nurse asked him, still smiling. 
 
 `` Yes,'' he said. `` I'm going to name her Esme.'' 

