A single man walked into the hangar, dressed in a spic and span Lander uniform, with the green and blue colors flaming through the crowds. His face was that of a war veteran, with the smallest of a stubble, each hair almost unseeable, but enough to give his mandible the gray tinge. His maxillae was perfectly smooth, as if just recently shaved, with not a single appearance of a mustache, as that would be unbecoming of any modern soldier. As you moved above his imposing jawline, one would notice that the square face had low cheekbones, giving the image of an eternally angry man, with a straight and pointed nose. The man's iris's were black as space itself, and were covered by wide and short, but not unnaturally short, eyebrows that were scrunched up in a frown, emphasizing the frown lines on his brow. To complete the face, on his almost atomically small haired head sat a red beret of a Lander officer.

The face of a constantly angry man, one would truly say. Upon his entry, the first thing that the rest of the men and women in the room did was glance at his uniform chest, which was covered in medals and campaign ribbons, outdoing most of the younglings in the room. The second thing that was done was a quick snap to attention, and a "officer on deck!", each and every marine on this side of the room's hand going straight to their forehead in a salute. The rest of the crew only stood at attention, as they did not have to actually salute to him, unlike the marines, although some did, which was quite usual. 

He returned the gesture gracefully, and barked, "As you were!", giving the people some rest, and he walked forward, into the hangar, and towards the entrance of the ship. He was early, wasn't he? As if to answer his statement, the call went straight over the intercom, which seemed quite the coincidence to the officer.