The Peacekeeper's office was shockingly roomy for military accommodations, and the young pilot shuffled uneasily in the chair. She gulped as the older man entered, and jumped up to attention. "At ease, Lieutenant." The grey-haired, subtly bearded man smiled warmly behind a pair of reading glasses, and he reminded her of a paler version of her father. A placard on his desk read LT COL ALEKSANDR PRIVALOV, shiny and polished beyond belief.
"You and I," he said, in heavily Magadanian-accented, yet impeccable, English. "We have much to talk about, and I believe you already know the first item on the agenda."
"Yes, sir." She nodded, a dejected frown. "I'm sorry, sir. I broke the rules. I won't let it happen aga—"
The man shook his head, a stunned gasp. "No, no, do not apologize. That was brilliant." He smiled. "Well, perhaps to every other officer you should apologize. But not to me. The ten meter rule is there to keep the amateurs from trying something stupid. Now… you are an amateur. And that was very stupid." He laughed, a hearty, disarming laugh. "But I do not think you are just another… loose cannon with more bark than bite."
She sat stunned, for a second. This is the guy? The terror of Oceania? He acts more like my grandpa. "Uhh… thank you, sir."
"You're welcome, Lieutenant Khoury. I will recommend that you not attempt that stunt again while we are still in the candidate selection phase. But your talent has… it has caught my eye. Even going easy as I do, no candidate has ever beat me in a mock fight on the first day. Rule-breaker or no."
"Really? Nobody?" She raised an eyebrow. "How long have you been doing this?"
"I have helped select the new class of Peacekeepers for… six years now. This is the first year I have worked with the… exchange program." He shrugged his shoulders. "Of course, this is the first year such a program has existed. Command says it will promote goodwill with the world. I am inclined to agree, and I have been looking to retire for a while now. This is… a good last assignment. To raise the next generation. Its brightest talent, from wherever they may hail, in service to the peace of the world." His voice went on melodically, as if he had launched into a love poem. The violin, perched on its stand behind his desk, seemed apt. "Beautiful, no?"
She nodded. "Sounds like a pretty good last gig to me."
"'Gig', you say? You sound like my granddaughter." That warm smile again, that disarming laugh. "However, something else has caught my eye about you, Lieutenant Khoury, and this is what I called you here to discuss." His tone turned deadly serious.
"What's wrong?" Sweat started to bead on Nicole's forehead.
"Your… family history." The Peacekeeper pulled a folder of papers from his desk, passing them to Nicole. She opened the folder, and a picture of her uncle getting a bowl of clam chowder at a small restaurant a few minutes down the road from his apartment stared back at her.
"How did you…" Her jaw hung open. The dossier on his movements, on his family— on her family— was scarily accurate.
"Your uncle… he was a mercenary thirteen years ago, no?" Lieutenant Colonel Privalov raised an eyebrow to his rhetorical question. "This… this information, it came up in your second round of background checks."
"I'm not… going home, am I?" She looked up at him. "Please. This is my only shot. You can't send me home—"
"They are ready to send you back. But… after today, I may not let them."
"—I don't even talk to him anymore— wait… you won't? Why not?"
"Well… I have conditions." He looked her in the eyes.
"What are they?" Her grip on the folder tightened.
"Well… I need assurance that you will have no qualms with fighting for the Federation."
She stared at the file. "You're not gonna… hurt him, right?"
The Lieutenant Colonel jumped back. "Oh God, no. We wouldn't kill a citizen of the UAS, even if he has failed to properly hide his identity. We can't extradite him for trial, either. The treaty negotiations stalled— your uncle is safe, do not fear for him. I just need to know where your loyalties lie."
"The Federation… the aid they sent kept my parents together. I don't have any problems with it. My uncle's issues are his and his alone." It was true, but it felt like a betrayal. She sighed.
"I understand that it's not easy to make you choose between loyalty like this. You have made a difficult choice. But you have made the right choice." He smiled. "I'll be watching you through the rest of the selection process. If I feel like you have lied to me— and I know when people lie to me— I will change my mind." He glared at her, a stern parent's disappointed look. "You do not want me to change my mind. Otherwise, I am a hero of the Federation. I have many connections, connections that can make this… problem, go away. Like you and he never even knew each other."
She sat there in silence, taking in the atmosphere of the well-decorated room. A shelf of what looked like sheet music— for his violin, she assumed— dominated the left-hand wall of the office. The right wall was littered with carefully-curated photographs of squadrons past, tracing the Lieutenant Colonel's heritage as a pilot— oddly, not a single trophy from a battle long past, no kill tallies or war memorabilia.
"You have such tremendous talent, Lieutenant Khoury. I want to help you set it free. With pilots like you in the skies…" He stood up, looking out the window. "I cannot wait to entrust the world to the next generation. You all have so much potential. You are dismissed, Lieutenant Khoury. I will see you… in the skies." He looked back at her, smiling wide.
She smiled back and offered him a salute before she left the room.