Premier Katz, blowing cigarette smoke at the recruit, swung back on his seat.
He toyed with his pistol, sitting it on the table in front of him as he offered the recruit some advice.
"Drugs are very bad for your health, son."
He stood up, holstering the gun, staring at the young man.
"Outcasts suffer from a weakness, addiction that corrupts the very essence of who they are. Dependancy that creates a conflict of interest. Who is your master? The Will of the People, or the seductive call of your next hit? I know what your answer would be today, you will stand there and lie to me that you can manage your addiction, and were I inclined to allow you into the fighter corps, you would serve loyally... for a while."
He walked around to behind his chair, resting upon the high back with his elbows.
"Then something will happen... some one will be just that little faster than you... that little bit better than you. And you will remember the crutch that Cardamine provides you in the cockpit. You will struggle to resist it, I am sure, but one day you will find yourself up in the Taus hunting your former bretheren, seeking through murder to attain just that little bit more to satiate your hunger."
Katz shrugged, "and your Commissar will watch, while you rack up Outcast kill after Outcast kill, nothing will be said because you are doing the work of the Glorious revolution, even though your motives are entirely selfish."
He held up a finger to silence the protests.
"Then, one day you will be assigned to... say... the Corsair front, where Cardamine is non-existant. Your kill record will spiral into the drain, your performance will slip, and you will become a liability in the cockpit."
"Pressure will mount, you will become desperate. You may find yourself in a dark corner of a Freeport giving head just to afford that one hit you need to get back on top... or you may desert your squadron, heading back to the Taus and that endless supply you know lies up there. Leaving those friends who counted upon you at the mercy of the cannibals."
"Sooner or later you will be discovered, they have a saying in the Commissariat, "His Watchful Eye sees all." and you will be apprehended... there is no where to hide from them, they will find you. Even if they have to kick in every men's room stall door in Omicron 74. And when you are finally brought before the Commandante of the Fighter Corps, you will writhe and whine that you were the victim, that it was the Cardamine that made you defile your uniform, forsake your duty and abandon your friends..."
Katz lifted a finger and pointed to the door.
"I cannot trust you, go find your mother and tell her how sorry you are... because there is no escaping Cardamine. Then make a difficult choice, either spend a life descending into hell, or spare yourself, your friends and your family the pain of being dragged down with you by putting a bullet into your skull."
He studied the youth a moment, pain in his eyes, before he turned his back, signalling the interview was over.