The day in the DESA was rather hot with many vodka split and drunk figures bending over various schematics.
"Finally, those brass soldiers have agreed to cooperate! Let's drink to this, comrades!"
Comrade Sizykh was the centre of the feast, and even despite politely declining to drink with motivation of having to go for distant worlds in the name of Coalition soon, he couldn't resist the blatant alco-attack of his colleagues.
But in the dim-lit office of the DESA director was an atmosphere of anger. Doctor Li Xian was annoyed, as always his colleagues would say.
"It's preposterous! How this one-convolution military infusorium dare to call *a muppet* our workers?! We build guns, and ships, and shields and maintain the artificial gravitation on their dwelling places and keep space radiation off their testicles and still being sneer at?! I gonna deliver the case to the Ministry for Science and Technological Advancement, we'll see who would laugh in the end when the Ministry of Truth will check their recruitment office for national treason because of subverting scientific work."
And yet his angry red eyes became a bit calmer after a sip of synth vodka. His heartbeat began to slow.
"Nah, let's wait until they hand our designee the SCRA ID. All in all, these recruiters are so dull-minded they can't even conceive the nature of the jumpholes they use everyday. Maybe, they even can't do without this alleged "oppression", for those recruits of non-Coalition descent really need a punch or two to understand how the things are done here. Those weaklings and whelps deserve no less. Hope, Mstislav will live up to their expectations, unless he wants to be executed for disgracing our science. I'd rather it didn't come to his..."