"Kalashnikov's", Zvezdny Gorodok

[arvg]

Song

Alvin stood off to one side standing holding a glass of wine as he watched the night sky out of the tall windows overlooking the white snow swept space of Omega-52. The evening was progressing well, their guests were being well received by the dignitaries of the fighter corps.

He kept himself slightly apart from the main crowds, engaging in polite conversation with military officers that joined him to offer their congratulations on dealing with the Omicroners, or aspiring politicos hoping to introduce the dashing young Premier to their daughters.

The latter always made him smile; after eight hundred years in Sirius, a daughter was still the fastest way to gain political connections, and many of them believed that the Premier would make the ideal husband.

Too bad he was taken.

He turned from the window, looking across the floor towards the broad staircase that led to the upper level and the young man standing so uncertainly in his simple brown sweater. His hair was hurriedly combed, and his dark framed glasses sitting a little askew. They framed his sparkling eyes in the light as he pulled down on the cuffs of the sweater to hide his hands, biting his lip as he bounced up on tiptoes trying to spot Alvin.

James, a constant shadow since the recent events with the Commissariat and TOR-ONE, kept back a few paces, keeping his eye on the Premeir. Katz'€™s personal bodyguards had taken up their role after a number of protests from the Premier, but when he realized he couldn'€™t really stop them, he had come to accept their presence.

The Premier set his glass aside, moving around a large potted plant, smiling as he just watched Razin a moment. Awkward and unused to social events, yet still eager to try his best, he'€™d managed to avoid the other state functions up till this point, too shy to participate. But Mendel had insisted Alvin invite him, no doubt curious to the relationship whispered about in certain circles'€¦

"Premier! Premier, come! Introduce these good comrades of the Coalition. Show me the men we have chosen to share sheets with."

Katz turned with a slight look of surprise at Comrade Mao, and James stepped protectively up to the Premier's shoulder. the rough looking Arabic man wore a worn coat over top of black body armour, his hand flexing as he dropped a vicious knife down into it.

Alvin reached out a warning hand, to reign in James' enthusiasm, "he's just been drinking." Katz warned.

James shrugged mutely, melting back into the crowd, a look of pure violence on his face.

Smiling warmly, Katz rested a hand on Comrade Mao's shoulder, "you remember the first tenant of Katz-ism, Comrade? That Profit is fine as long as it doesn't come at the exploitation of others? In fact honest profit is encouraged... This year the IND have taken massive losses in profits to help us rebuild JiangXi, and the Zoners have made regular humanitarian runs bringing refugees to the safety of the Coalition. These are the men we have chosen to... share our sheets with. And Comrade, you of all people know that a generous bed partner is to be kept, no?"

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