(02-04-2017, 11:59 PM)Tabris Wrote: He wasn't impressed, THIS pathetic muppet is what he would be receiving nowadays? Those muppets in the Army would eat him up and spit out the bones within a day! Still proceedure must be followed...So he gestures to the chair across from him, fixing his cold uncaring gaze upon him as he waited for him to take the seat.
"Alright Muppet."he began, his tone never changing and his gaze barely blinking as he stared down the muppet seated across from him."What makes you think you are prepared to join the Army?"
She began to look around with surprise. I thought the corruption in the army was too much. Outside, the capitalists continued to attack and could not make sense of these cold attitudes of the army. Then his lips trembled; "I lived alone all my life, sir, and the only thing that keeps my life alive throughout my life is joining this army ... I think I fight with the capitalists every night when I close my eyes because I live directly on capitalist exploitation, sir, I am a real worker. If I am ready, if I am interested in war, I am interested in capitalist war. " said. And he extended his resume. He remembered that the capitalists had massacred his entire family and that I should fight the capitalists even if there was not an army in mind ...
Oh for the love of Katz, McIntosh and Warner it's like dealing with one of those 'emo' folks from Liberty....Not to mention the muppet was speaking so poorly! It was almost unbearable. Steeling himself he raised an eyebrow and shook his head.
"Muppet, I hear that same sob story every time I get assigned to this desk, you are not a snowflake that's unique."he commented before folding his hands over one-another. Leaning forward all so slightly. One could see the corners of his eyes tensing subtly as he narrowed his eyes slightly at the muppet across from him.
"I care nothing for your...Resume." the man sneered as he glowered at the muppet. Errors had been made.
"So I ask once more...What makes you think you are ready to join the Revolutionary Army?"
He did say: "This Army for workers. İ m not star. İ m only normaly worker commiser and i want only make war against Capitalist.... " Then he bowed his head down.
A man in his late 30'ies was rattling through the corridor, his eyes starring at the floor. At a first glimpse one could say he was a war veteran - scarred and slightly burned under the chin face, cybernetic eye-implant and a medal on his chest, his posture being rather "fixed" as after hundreds of rallies and years serving in the army. And yet, today one could tell there was uneasiness or even uncertainty in his demeanor.
No doubt, that was a hard day for Captain Igor Sibirtsev: he had just left the office of the Ministry of Truth and was heading to the Recruitment Office as if he were some sort of a "green muppet". After all his years of service in interceptor wing, a few wounds and even a combat award he had yet to prove himself capable of piloting a capital ship - an opportunity and responsibility for a small pleiad of Coalition pilots. Despite having meticulously studying the theory of capital ships warfare and graduating from Captain Academy with honours the trial at the Ministry of Truth was rather difficult. Yet, these can't be easy at any time.
Approaching at the door of the Recruitment Office, Captain Sibirtsev noticed a few muppets entering and leaving the Office. There was a busy queue and the guards were laughing at non-native recruits from Rheinland and targeting their lasguns at the poor souls who weren't brave enough to enter the office and see the Officer in person. He saluted the guard, exchanged a few words and captured an image of Comrade Katz on the wall. That seemed to be a Rheinlander, maybe those muppets could prove their use for the Revolution too. He then dived into thoughts about that new ship - Typhoon class CPW "Kirovograd", a fine piece of engineering built on Mykolaiv shipyard. A fine ship indeed.
That moment a muppet was carried away from the Recruitment Office by the guards. He was probably to fly into space soon, just in his casual clothes. Swallowed his pride, Captain Igor stepped in the Office. With a salute he handed his dossier to the Officer
Code:
Name: Igor Konstantinovich Sibirtsev
Age: 38
Origin: Planet Volgograd, Omega-52<, Habitat#34
Previous Experience: 18 years of service in Coalition Interceptor Wing #649
Capital Ships Experience:[/b] 6 month of service as a First Mate at a Coalition "Storm" class vessel
Short biography: Born on planet Volgograd in a family of a civil engineer (father) and a minor education specialist (mother). Single child. Got into military training at the age of 14, with a view to make a career of a professional military. At the age of 16 got into Marine Corps, requalified into pilot at the age of 19. As a marine took part in boarding of corsairs' vessels. As a pilot took part in various clashed primary on the corsair front in Omega 49, Omega 41 and Omega 55. Lost his "Insurgent" ship in a fight in Omega 41 six years ago, lost his eye and was severely burned, capsule was picked by Red Hessians and returned to the Coalition. Was reinstated after 3 months. Was awarded with a Medal of Valor for selfless service, promoted to Captain. Was allowed to be trained at the Coalition Fleet Academy at Zhukovsky station as a result. Graduated with honors. Currently awaiting for the results of the Ministry of Truth check.
Report of the Ministry of Truth: Check was successful (see report #78/734 for specific details - proper authorisation may be required). Directed for further check and approval to the Recruitment Office.
Handed over the dossier, captain abruptly uttered:"Ready for service and instructions, Comrade Officer!"and became still as if petrified, awaiting the response...
The young secretary looked over the applicant. Pursing her lips, She let out a soft sigh, and rubbed her forehead. This guy looked really familiar, something she was not extremely happy about. Familiar was never good...
But in any case, she did wonder how...creative...Kirov would be today.
The room was sparsely furnished. Just a desk, a chair, and a poster, one that every true Coalitioner knew.
Sitting in the desk, a dogeared book next to her tablet, was Commissar-Major Sasha Kirov. Still in her prime, her uniform sharply pressed and without a single mistake...save for the loosely attached star on her hat. She looked up as the applicant sat down, but resumed cleaning her weapon.
"My name is Commissar-Major Kirov." She began, cleaning the innards of her sidearm. "So you wish to join the Coalition, fly with such heroes as Garcia, Tabakov, Petrov, and Forge? You wish to..." She tapped a screen, waking it - to which his application scrolled past. She rolled her eyes.
"Mmmph. Igor Konstantinovich Sibirtsev. Habitat 34...distinguished career...." He slid her finger, the page turning. "So tell me. You have been in our Auxiliary Force for some time. Your supeiors say you aspire to command a Typhoon one day, maybe even a Tempest, da? That is a responsibility not many get. We have precious few." She forward, hands clasped. "Tell me. What does the Coalition mean for you?"
Commissar-Major Kirov initiating the conversation, captain instantly by marine's reflex withdrew his hand from saluting, his posture becoming a bit less firm. It took not much time for him to answer the question, as if it was learned by heart from a politruk brochure:
"As a citizen of the People's Coalition Republic, I am sworn to serve my Motherland and the People in my life and in my death. The Will of the People, manifested in Decrees of the Duma and the Premier, is the ultimate cause of every single citizen and outranks any single aspiration of an individual that may come in conflict. Thus, my own subjective image of the Coalition is irrelevant, however my objective readiness to strip myself of anything in my life, including the life itself should there be a need, for the sake of futhering the aims of my Motherland is".
Capturing the glance of the Commissar-Major, Igor Sibirtsev as if predicting the question about reasons for joining, added:
"Unlike those born outside Omega-52, we, "the natives" have always had a reason. Some of us excel at the mysteries of the Universe and eventually become undisputed specialists in building ships like "Typhoon" or "Tempest", the others are eloquent and manage to convince even those filthy corsairs to join the Revolution; there are hard-working farmers and workers, the true everyday heroes furthering our aims with scarce resources at our disposal, and there are soldiers like me and You - we weren't choosing the reason to fight, we were born and bred for war. You saw my service list, that's the only thing I can do and what I want to do.
However, if that matters, while at the Academy for Capital Ships Captains I received extensive training on Ideology and the history of Socialistic Movement since old-Earth times and ready to attain People's aims without resorting to warfare, if the orders so stipulate."
A few seconds he would remain silent as if recalling and analyzing his own words.
"During past few weeks I've served as a military advisor to Lieutenant Mstislav Sizykh, commander of a "Storm"-class vessel under recently deployed Coalition Research Corps and oversaw the combat part of the reconnaissance missions to New London and Vespucci systems. I believe, that my experience of piloting smaller capital ships in action could prove useful to the SCRA, should you deem my candidature applicable."
This being said, Captain SIbirtsev saluted again and became still and silent again, waiting for response of comrade Kirov.
Kirov was about to answer, but he anticipated it. That was both good...yet bad. He was not an idiot and understood how things worked, and was willing to take initiative. But that also meant he could have problem taking orders, or anticipating orders and ending up killing someone. Such a person was a wildcard - blind patriotism was one thing, but idiocy was another. She tapped her desk, looking at the man.
"Sibirtsev." She began. "Anticipation of orders is bad. But the fact you anticipated correctly, tells me you have good instincts. But even instincts must be tempered by discipline, and patriotism kept in check by regulations. Even though you are patriotic and a very well furnished candidate from our Auxillary Corps, I need more than your words." She pressed a button. A minute later, two marines dragged in a woman and threw her at the man's feet. He was offered a gun. Sasha said nothing else.
Sibirtsev was not a man of doubt. He served as a marine and fought as a member of a boarding team. A few dozens of people found their end seeing his gun turned to them and it wasn't a problem at all for Captain to add a few more to the list. However, the words of the Commissar started to sink in and that was probably the first time Sibirtsev would hesitate. On the one hand, this is a typical test for a Coalition member checking subordination and loyalty, "kill or be killed". On the other hand, he was blamed for possibility of disobeying orders and it would be adequate to request the confirmation for execution.
Still, as the Commissar said no words on giving the gun, Sibirtsev clung on his first though, which is usually the right one, took the gun, by reflex checked the loadout and put it to head of a woman who would be now staying on her knees, face away from the gun.
Her weeping was nothing for a trained marine, he had seen far worse things. In a matter of few seconds he pulled the trigger and pierced the head of a poor victim with a beam of tachyons, leaving a small burn both in her skull and on the floor.
Without uttering a word, he offered a gun back to the Commissar. He knew that even if he failed the test, he did right, because that was the will of a Commissar, and thus - of the People and of the Party, and those are never mistaken.
"Congratulations. You have killed a Flieger of the Rheinwheir. Who was sitting in the outer room, waiting for an interview. You have failed this test and killed a promising new recruit. Furthermore you did not wait nor rwquest orders clarifying the situation nor attempt to ascertain if this was a test of anything betond your willingness to kill. Even a child will kill if needed. And as such." She leaned forward. "How do you now proceed?"
Sibirtsev looked neither upset nor pleased. His demeanor was stoic as if nothing happened at all. The smoke from a small dot in the floor was smoking and giving a smell of burned metal.
"Your objection understood. I am a soldier, not a commissar to think too much over a kill. For all my life I have been killing, by gun as a marine or being in an aircraft. And yet it is intriguing how killing once again proved to be wrong. How amusing. Well, I am not here to lick anyone's boots, comrade Commissar. I know how to obey orders and how to kill - that was enough to pilot an interceptor. There, on the front line it is we who improvise and press on while the orders are lagging. If that is not enough for being a captain of a "Typhoon" class vessel - so be it, the decision is yours and I a, to obey. It is when the SCRA lacks recruits and can barely assert its influence even in the neighbouring Omega-49. Of course, it is up to the command - I merely follow the orders whatever they might be."
His hand communicator beeped on receiving an incoming message. With a gesture of excuse Sibirtsev checked the message and grinned.
"With due respect, I must beg my leave, Comrade Kirov. Major Valuev from the Auxiliary Command has invited me to take part in a new offensive against Rheinland serving undercover as a cruiser captain of our allies - the Red Hessians."
On leaving the office, captain tuned, saluted the commissar and added: "If it is our allies who are more decisive and welcoming the path of war - so be it. A pity I can't serve under the coat-of-arms of my Motherland and have to protect our interesting under a name of some Rheinlander."
Without a iota of disturbance on his face, he left.
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