Julia Dorian. The famous pilot of the coalition that left so many enemies trying to catch her to eat dust, or those who tried to kill her to hug space vacuum, recently disappeared for some time from her duties. Her comrades were wondering why they dont hear usual bragging on comms, dont see tons of reports about her endless victories and rumors about her having yet another lover. But lately she have returned, and those who seen her could easilly notice the change in her personality...
Julia have been around recruitment offices for a while. She was testing recruits for past week or two and those who passed were called lucky. Those who failed to prove loyal to the cause of lacking of needed skills or knowlege rarely went out of there alive. Now, Dorian were on her way back to offices from cafeteria, when she noticed a new face near guardsman. Right after Salah asked his question, she took the recruit by his arm and went with him a few steps away.
So, you came to apply to the great People's Army? Your name is quite new to me. Where have you came from? Julia looked over the guy and added And I am Commissar Dorian to you.
"I'm from Volgograd, comrade Commissar Dorian. My parents are descendants of those few saboteurs from the Tigris Confederation who made it aboard the Hispania. We're... Coalition natives, not immigrants" Salah said.
His heart started beating slightly faster and he covered this by a slightly deeper breathing. He then added: "I'm not surprised you didn't hear of us Syrians, though. We're a quite quiet minority".
Who said I didnt heard of you? I just never paid enough attention about it. But with you coming here to represent, this changes now. Julia went to a door to one of offices and looked inside. Empty. Good. Follow me. She went inside and took a seat at the other side of a table and invited Salah to sit down. Tell me your story. What made you to leave the common life of civilian worker and put yourself at that risk? I mean, you realise what we deal with everyday in the Army? This isnt safe job.
Julia took a look inside table's shells, trying to find something.
Salah sat down as ordered, then he started speaking.
"Working in the navy is indeed much harder than working in a factory, but of course there are benefits. Working in the navy means being part of something much greater than the simple productive process: it means being part of two missions, the first one being that of defence, and the second one being a civilizing mission.
As a simple factory worker, I work and I bring home the bread. I do a favour primarily to myself. Primarily because, of course, other people, too will benefit from my work. But as a defender of this country, I am being a part of something that protects the lives of millions.
Solidarity is an essential value we're taught at school. Solidarity and helping the needy. Millions of people need the help of the navy to protect their country, the country they built with their sweat, from a world that wants to destroy everything that our people accomplished. Corsairs, the Houses, we can't even fully trust the Zoners. Almost everyone wants to see our country destroyed and, ultimately, pillaged. And why? Because we have a viable alternative to the rule of the market and we're offering it to these people, and in this lies the concept of the revolution we export: accepting our proposal, and ultimately putting it in practice. Here it is, our civilizing mission. To eliminate our proposal, to prevent it from putting it in practice, of course they have to eliminate us, and these people have nothing else in their minds. To eliminate us, they'll send their ships to our homes and destroy the lives of millions. The navy exists to prevent this scenario, and I want to be part of it.
Most people on Volgograd and Jianxi think what I think, of course, but not all of them had the courage of doing what I intend to do.
Then of course the higher pay, a small incentive supplementing the ideological one" he stopped for a moment, then he added: "There are risks taking this road, deadly ones, especially, but I still intend to take this way. At the end of the day, I'm only doing something I've been taught to do at school; I'm showing solidarity to my people and I'm defending them".
He finished, thinking that was overall a good discourse with good motivations, something that should've convinced the Hispanic immigrant in front of him.
Then he noticed the Commissar was searching something in the table and, in his mind, he used what little faith school didn't manage to take away to pray to God that no gun and bullets would've left it.
''All professions are needed, all professions important'' - old Coalition wisdom.Julia smiled shortly. Courage is also good addition, those who afraid to die for their motherland deserve no honor being part of the Revolutionary Army. She looked at Salah a little suspicious. But why do you think you are ready to kill? It needs more then just a courage to send your enemies to hell. You need to have cold mind and hot heart for this, you need to be loyal to the cause of Revolution. To kill those who stand in our ways, those who opress civilians and steal from them. Are you ready to see your hands full within blood?
"Everything is much more simple when done from the cockpit of a ship. You surely don't see the blood of the enemy or his screams when you're about to send him to hell. And even if I'd have to see these things...I honestly wouldn't have a problem with it. We're at war, and war is also these things".
He noted the Commissar was still checking the drawers. He kept praying.
Jula though she will have a long, boring and full of philosophical ideas answer. But the recruit was short and this could not anger her.
Ah, a man who is not afraid of the action. I knew you are better then average rookies who just had a mustage grown up this morning. Julia closed drawers and its appearing she had something in her hand. What do you think of Liberty? Its government, its people, its ''law enforsers'', its corporations and capitalistic ideology?
Julia had her hands under the table and her eyes steering directly at the Salah. She had nearly no impression on her face but her eyes were most likely looking deep inside of recruit's forehead.
Salah didn't like this, not in the slightest. There was a gun under the table, and that immigrant was holding it. He knew it. And he knew that she didn't like his answer. He was tempted to look under the table, but he knew what that would've meant: a bullet between his eyes.
"Something simple, Salah..." he said to himself.
"Nothing against the common people, but of course I and many other fellow connationals have something to say about the rest, about the government, its founding ideology and ultimately those on top of the ladder. It's our anti-thesis, we are everything they are not and they are everything we are not. They defend slavery, I'm referring to their prison system, we are against it. Our government is a real democracy, in which people have full power of decision, theirs is an oligarchy ruled from behind by business magnates, and so on. I said I have nothing against the common Libertonians who in the best case only want to live their lives and in the worst, when they're hostile to us, they are victims of their own government feeding them so-called "bullshit", and I ask forgiveness for the foul lanugage, and that is why I think we should gain their trust and ultimately redirect them against their real enemy, which is also our enemy. Replicating in Liberty what we did and what we are doing in Rheinland".
You seem to know where the typical brainless loyalty ends and where smart propoganda starts. Conquer their hearts, and their brains shall follow and serve the ideas of Coalition. Julia rised her hands and it apprears she was holding some papers. Fill these and give them back to me. Think twice before you write anything. I am not giving you second chance. But I think you wont need it even.
Julia laid back on a chair after handing over the papers. She took some kind of manifest of coalition origin and began to read it, leaving Salah alone to his job. Once a minute she looked at the recruit for a moment and returned to reading process after.
"Papers? Whew..." Salah thought. Still, that one came close. Actually, it made sense to assume that she had a gun in one hand and the papers in the other.
He took the papers, the only thing that left his mouth was a simple "Thanks", then he started filling them, in silence.
Minutes passed, Salah put in the papers everything he remembered from school and from the naval academy, improvising with what he didn't remember. He cursed himself every time he felt a hole in his memory, cursed himself for not having paid attention to this or that subject years before in class, and he swore he would've cursed himself if anything wrong would've come out of this.
When he was done, he tried to get the Commissar's attentions, without insisting.
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