Socialist Commonwealth
Establishing Nation
The spoke and the wheel
The college advisor threw him a sceptical look, his head slightly tilted forward, his spectacles resting on the foremost tip of his long nose, so that his gaze passed over their upper rim. His left eyebrow was raised in a silent gesture of disbelief, as he turned his view down again towards the document spread across his desk.
"Mr. Athanasiou," he drew out every syllable for effect, ostensibly to stress how foreign he supposed the name to be.
Christos just smiled and nodded as if he wasn't noticing any of the small but aggressive gestures of rejection the advisor threw at him.
"Political science, yes?"
Again, Christos smiled and nodded.
The advisor leaned back in his chair and folded his hands on the table in front of him.
"That's an odd choice for a Pelasgian, isn't it?"
"Come again?" Christos said dumbfounded. He had noticed the hostility behind the playfully amicable veneer of the man in front of him, but this remark still hit him out of left field.
"I must inform you that the course is heavy on the science of economic planning, critique of bourgeoise political economy and revolutionary theory. It is not exactly something that will improve your chances on the Pelasgian job market."
"I'm... not an exchange student? I was born in the Commonwealth."
"Don't you speak Pelasgian?"
"Fluently."
The advisor waved dismissively.
"Then don't tell me you're not waiting for some Pelasgian recruiter to come and offer you a big apartment in Propontis and a five figure moneyed salary once you finished studying."
"But I'm not..."
"Kid, I know your type. I can't stop you from taking up space on our universities, as much as I would like to. So at least, don't let us waste each others time. Something like medicine or engineering, that's a solid course for people like you. Gets you a job abroad and your family will pat you on the shoulder once you start sending home all those import goods people can't seem to live without nowadays."
-
For many years, the memory had stung him. The Commonwealth was his home. More than that, at that age Christos had already been a firm believer not only in what it was, but more importantly, what his country could become. A belief that had only grown in strength as the years went by. Now he stood on the podium in the center of the All-Workers Congress, thousands of eyes rested on him, the assembled mass of delegates in Europes biggest parliament. The pinnacle of democratic administration and he was at the heart of it.
If only that prick of a college advisor could see him now.
Christos took a deep breath. This wasn't the time to reminisce about his old revenge fantasy. Indulging in it had had its uses, every now and then, on the long way to where he stood now. To refocus him, to keep him going when nothing but pettiness would. When he needed the motivation of proving himself better than what someone once thought of him, That time wasn't now. He was past that. His long road, his march through the institutions, his cursus honorum, was at its end. From his small hometown on the shores of the Carentanian gulf, through college to the Valerian state congress, through assistant jobs in the Commissariate for Foreign Affairs, he had built himself up as a political animal until he had reached the capital, the global city, Svetograd to most. There he had forged political ties, held countless speeches, worked tirelessly until he had reached his goal.
"Comrades, citizens, people of the Commonwealth."
He was at the finish line.
"I am grateful for the trust placed in me. I accept the appointment as Commissar for Defense"
His journey was only just beginning.
The college advisor threw him a sceptical look, his head slightly tilted forward, his spectacles resting on the foremost tip of his long nose, so that his gaze passed over their upper rim. His left eyebrow was raised in a silent gesture of disbelief, as he turned his view down again towards the document spread across his desk.
"Mr. Athanasiou," he drew out every syllable for effect, ostensibly to stress how foreign he supposed the name to be.
Christos just smiled and nodded as if he wasn't noticing any of the small but aggressive gestures of rejection the advisor threw at him.
"Political science, yes?"
Again, Christos smiled and nodded.
The advisor leaned back in his chair and folded his hands on the table in front of him.
"That's an odd choice for a Pelasgian, isn't it?"
"Come again?" Christos said dumbfounded. He had noticed the hostility behind the playfully amicable veneer of the man in front of him, but this remark still hit him out of left field.
"I must inform you that the course is heavy on the science of economic planning, critique of bourgeoise political economy and revolutionary theory. It is not exactly something that will improve your chances on the Pelasgian job market."
"I'm... not an exchange student? I was born in the Commonwealth."
"Don't you speak Pelasgian?"
"Fluently."
The advisor waved dismissively.
"Then don't tell me you're not waiting for some Pelasgian recruiter to come and offer you a big apartment in Propontis and a five figure moneyed salary once you finished studying."
"But I'm not..."
"Kid, I know your type. I can't stop you from taking up space on our universities, as much as I would like to. So at least, don't let us waste each others time. Something like medicine or engineering, that's a solid course for people like you. Gets you a job abroad and your family will pat you on the shoulder once you start sending home all those import goods people can't seem to live without nowadays."
-
For many years, the memory had stung him. The Commonwealth was his home. More than that, at that age Christos had already been a firm believer not only in what it was, but more importantly, what his country could become. A belief that had only grown in strength as the years went by. Now he stood on the podium in the center of the All-Workers Congress, thousands of eyes rested on him, the assembled mass of delegates in Europes biggest parliament. The pinnacle of democratic administration and he was at the heart of it.
If only that prick of a college advisor could see him now.
Christos took a deep breath. This wasn't the time to reminisce about his old revenge fantasy. Indulging in it had had its uses, every now and then, on the long way to where he stood now. To refocus him, to keep him going when nothing but pettiness would. When he needed the motivation of proving himself better than what someone once thought of him, That time wasn't now. He was past that. His long road, his march through the institutions, his cursus honorum, was at its end. From his small hometown on the shores of the Carentanian gulf, through college to the Valerian state congress, through assistant jobs in the Commissariate for Foreign Affairs, he had built himself up as a political animal until he had reached the capital, the global city, Svetograd to most. There he had forged political ties, held countless speeches, worked tirelessly until he had reached his goal.
"Comrades, citizens, people of the Commonwealth."
He was at the finish line.
"I am grateful for the trust placed in me. I accept the appointment as Commissar for Defense"
His journey was only just beginning.