Katz curled a hand around his cup of coffee, looking at each of them a moment. He took a long drink, before setting it down, reaching out to pick up the pistol that sat amidst the papers on the table.
He drew back the slide, released the safety and shot Alek in the knee, watching coldly as the man fell, shrieking an obscenity and clutching the wound.
"Warning number one, comrade," Katz said quietly. He looked up at Price. "The answer is quite simple. But one hard core communists refuse to acknowledge. But the Coalition, we learn from the mistakes of Gorbachev, Mao, Stalin and Peng. Our survival and success relies on the ability of the Coalition to adapt and to be better than the Soviet Union or other proto-communist states. The lesson is a simple one, the leadership stopped listening to its own people. Students are one thing... they are just children, they don't know better."
"The Parents who got shot, well they were grieving parents, of course they will protect their children. Butwhen a simple man, a worker, stood before those tanks, not because of another's words, not because of his children, but because it was the right thing to do, that rocked the very core of the CCP."
"They had lost the will of the people, and their mandate to rule."
"The aftermath is not commonly discussed, there were arrests on both sides, the leadership driven from power in disgrace and reforms were passed... at a pace that satisfied the old conservatives. Every single demand made by the June protestors was met, every last one. One man changed a billion lives."
He eyed them both a long second before he set the pistol back down on the table.
"What is the core tenant of Katism and how does it differ from my predecessor's philosophy?"
Ben nodded and then looked down as the man who stood next to him collapsed bend over to stem the flow of blood from the wound. Ben grew ever nervous that the next shot may be to his leg or an even worse place to get shot. After hearing the question Ben grew more nervous and his insides squirmed.
Ben had read the Katz Manifesto after hearing about the incident in Ontario and hoping that the manifesto was the basis for Katism he exhaled a bit of air then proceeded, 'The core tenant is that rather the forcing socialism upon others, true socialism must be chosen by the masses and not by one leader. Ben briefly paused then continued 'This is compared to others such as you predecessor, Macintosh as he had tried to force socialism upon the masses.'
Hoping that this was correct. However Ben found himself preparing mentally for the pain which he hoped would never come.
"Take them outside to the platform, I will make my choice soon enough."
The two heavy warbots clanked forward, one of them dragging the injured man by the collar of his coat, picking him up and slinging him, like a bag of refuse up over his shoulder. The other, Ben, was prodded out at gun point. Clearing the room for the next applicant.
Putting his old peaked cap on, Katz walked over to refill his coffee cup, looking across at the new applicant, a cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth.
"Kuvera?" he asked, straightening up with his cup. "You're set to impress me, or what?" His eyes flashed with a little humour.
He didn't wait for her response, he motioned for her to follow him back to the table, as the two bots retook their positions. One of them covered in blood.
"So Comrade Kuvera, tell me, who you were is irrelevant. All I care about is who will you become?"
Kasheyev frowned, the tranquillity of his cigarette shattered. His expression changed little at the sight of Aleksandr's wound, the Conscript stepping forward to support the man, lowering him from the bots shoulders to the ice. He wasn't exactly gentle with Kurcov, hauling the applicant's bloodied trouser leg up above the knee, caring little for the blood seeping onto his uniform. Nikolai cursed in Russian, wishing his knife had not been left with the patrol; it would have been preferable to simply cut the pants off below the wounded knee. Nikolai pulled off one of his gloves, removing the second with his teeth, all the while searching the pockets of his coat. No sooner did the bandage emerge, than the Conscript pried Alexsandr's clutching hands from the wound.
Before Aleksandr had time to protest the man had bound his knee, lifting and dropping it back to the floor with each successive circuit of cloth. The bandage was tight, perhaps, but it would act well enough to prevent further bleeding. As long as Kurcov did not pick at it, at any rate. He hauled himself to his feet, leaving the wounded applicant on the ground without a word.
Only then did Kasheyev, hands stained red, acknowledge Ben. "Your friend offended the Premier, Comrade?" He queried, his voice dry and cracking. The wind had much to answer for.
Kuvera pauses for the briefest of moments, before following. Striding to stand near the table in an obvious civilian rendition of the 'at ease' stance.
"Thats somewhat fortunate because I'm a poor story teller. I'm here, and forgive the cliche. Because in my opinion what you're doing is right. I'm not an intelligent woman, and I'd have a hard time explaining why, so I suspect I'm going to be shot hm? But there, my cards are on the table as they say"
[22:29:00 | Edited 22:29:52] Corey (Gheis): Just because I'm an admin doesn't mean I can't appreciate an attractive woman.
"We have ships," Katz remarked. "The KSD line which is being phased out, and the new XKR line which is currently in production. So you know about ship operations? What is a Delta-3 evasive maneuver?"
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