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NOVEMBER 23, 1998
4:00 AM

East Grestin
Day 1

Early in the morning, when Nikolai arrived in East Grestin, he didn't know whether to stare in awe or in distaste.

While Paradizna was a large city, it pales in comparison to Grestin. It was large, large enough to house thousands. Though it was stagnant and the little scars of war were still evident, considering how half the city itself was what Arstotzka fought for and gained after.

As Nikolai walked through the streets, he realized that it wasn't as barren as he initially perceived. People walked, some cars would drive by, and plenty of businesses were still operating. Though the October Labor Lottery was held to improve the economy, it looked like it was already in a decent place for a city that had gone through a war only months ago. It brightened Nikolai's views on how his glorious country had come out of the war.

He walked through the somewhat lively city, until he reached a building at least 10 stories high, the address in the letter, his new home. Walking inside he approaches the window with the sign "Office" above. Letting his bag down by his feet, he rings a bell at the sill of the window.

After fifteen or so seconds later, a rather shorter than average old man came to the window while examining Nikolai through his eye glasses. Nikolai could see that the years have been hard on the old man as he was thin, but not direly so fortunately. Unlike him, Nikolai had been fed decently during the war, while not full meals, it had upheld his fit physique and strength.

Old Man: Good morning, what can I do for you, boy?

His question was asked with a small smile and kind voice. An attitude Nikolai was glad to see from the older man. He'd rather a kindly old man than an old grouch.

Nikolai: Good morning, I'm here about a Class-8 apartment?

The older man's smile turned to a saddened frown at the mention of a Class-8, a change Nikolai took notice of.

Old Man: My boy, now why would you go asking about such a crappy apartment for a spry young man like yourself?

Nikolai: I was told that was what my new housing would be. I cannot complain about what the government can grant me.

The old man perked up a bit at this information as he brought out a paper that looked like a list from Nikolai's angle.

Old Man: Ah, so are you a government official or soon to be?

Nikolai looked at him, perplexed by the question.

Old Man: I mean, are you a government official or a poor labor lotto winner?

Nikolai: I suppose I would be the latter, my name was drawn for the lottery.

Nikolai responded skeptically at the old man's question. Though the old man nodded and looked over the list with his glasses.

Old Man: And what would your name be, young man?

Nikolai: Nikolai Yabanov.

The old man used his wrinkled index finger to skim across the list. Likely searching for his name, Nikolai assumed.

Old Man: Hmm...Nikolai...Nikolai...Ah! Yes! Here you are. Well, Mr. Yabanov, it's a pleasure to meet you. I'm your new landlord, Viktor Solenski.

The old man, Viktor, reached his hand out the window and Nikolai gave him a gentle, yet firm enough, handshake.

Nikolai: The pleasure is mine, Mr. Solenski.

Viktor nods and scurries over to a rack on a nearby wall, nicking a key off it.

Viktor: Well boy, your apartment number is 214 on the second floor to the right. Oh, and by chance, do you know what job the government gave you?

He laid the key down in front of Nikolai as he picked it and deposited it into his pocket.

Nikolai: No, I was only told to come to Grestin and report to the border checkpoint. The letter the government had sent said nothing more.

Viktor: Hmm...so you could be a border guard or...? Oh, oh dear...

He muttered as he looked over the list again. This, like earlier, perplexed Nikolai as he tried to see what the old man was looking at.

Viktor: My boy, you are to be the new Border Inspector.

While the young man wouldn't be surprised at being a border guard, considering his background, The idea of being the inspector had never once crossed his mind.

Viktor: My boy, you need to get going! I heard some government officials saying that they were opening the border today! Now, you don't want to be arrested for not showing up to work, do you?

This knocked him out of his stupor as he quickly nodded his head and thanked the kind man.

Viktor: Oh, yes! By the way, the elevator works, but is slow. The stairs would be faster for you. Now hurry, boy!

Nikolai thanked him again as he rushed up the stairs, remembering to enter the second floor and turn right as Viktor had said, ending up at the door of his government provided apartment.

Quickly fishing out his key, he opens the door to his new home for the foreseeable future. A adequately sized apartment, though it was shoddy and smells of odor greeted his nose. This would have to be worried about later, as he threw his bag in the bedroom and hurriedly locked the door, running out of the building after giving Viktor a wave goodbye.

NOVEMBER 23, 1998
5:30 AM

Grestin Border Checkpoint
Day 1

Nikolai crossed the road to the checkpoint, a big open space and with nothing but guidelines and barriers all protected by a small booth and a five or six foot concrete wall. It reminded him of a prison or something similar to.

A lone border guard stood present behind the barricades near the road, likely waiting on Nikolai and making sure nobody gets any ideas. Walking to him, the guard see his approach and holds up his palm, his rifle close to his chest.

Guard: Halt! What is your business here?

Nikolai: I was told to come here at the request of the MOA.

The guard looked him up and down, examining him skeptically.

Guard: Any proof of that?

Nikolai dug into his pocket and pulled out the letter he had gotten days before. He mentally praised himself for having it on him, even through his rush to get to the checkpoint.

The guard took the piece of paper and examined it throughly. Once done, he smiled, satisfied, then handed the letter back.

Guard: Ah, The new inspector, yes. I had expected you to be in Grestin yesterday, only to learn you were yet to arrive. I left you a note in your mailbox, Viktor told me what room you would live in.

Nikolai: I'm sorry, I had to go to Paradizna to catch the train. I only arrived here in the early morning and didn't have time to check my mail.

Guard: Ha! It's okay, Comrade. You're here now and we can finally open the border. Come, I will show you to your station.

The guard led him to the booth and showed him inside. He first points to a locker in the corner.

Guard: That locker holds your uniform as well as your own set of keys to the booth. You are expected to wear your uniform before opening the checkpoint, it is also expected of you to maintain it.

Obviously, Nikolai had no problem with that. He had a thing about being tidy in the military, though it wasn't by choice and besides, he had always been a sort of neat freak.

The guard then pointed to the desk and the space beyond the shutters.

Guard: This is your post. This switch opens the shutters, clock is here and has the date, and here is the microphone, it will record conversations for your duties and for the MOA.

Guard: Now, your general duties are simple, yet complex. You are the inspector, it is self explanatory. You are to inspect entrants documentation for any discrepancies and deny them if you find any or approve them for entry if you don't.

Nikolai listened intently and gave the guard his undivided attention as he finished.

Guard: Finally, your shifts are from six AM to six PM with a lunch break at twelve. You are paid five credits for every entrant processed, approved or denied, but that doesn't mean you can get sloppy just for some more pay. Anyway, do you have any questions about your duties?

Nikolai did in fact have a few, but the biggest was having more explanation on his job.

Nikolai: What kind of discrepancies am I to look for?

The guard nodded and had him sit at his desk.

Guard: There are some obvious ones like; expired documents, incorrect photos and gender. Then, there are more subtle ones like; Wrong issuing city, date of birth, or serial number.

Guard: You are to inspect and find these discrepancies, then use these stamps to approve or deny entrants.

He gestured to the green and red stamps, the individual purpose of the two were self explanatory.

Nikolai: Okay, but for things like issuing city, how can I tell? I don't know the cities in all the countries.

The guard grabbed a small book from the desk and put it in front of him.

Guard: This rule book contains the rules the MOA requires for entrants as well as a map of Arstotzka and surrounding countries, each country having a chapter containing issuing cities and such.

Guard: Also, the MOA faxes the booth everyday with details of new rules and regulations.

The guard then digs into his pocket and placed an Arstotzkan passport in front of Nikolai.

Guard: You may practice on my passport, but hurry, we must open the checkpoint in 20 minutes.

Nikolai opened the booklet and looked over it.

The guards name and date of birth, not important right now.

Gender: Male, yes, that's obvious.

ISS: Orvech Vonor, I know that's in Arstotzka.

Expiration: 12/25/93, expires next month.

Serial number, doesn't matter right now.

Guard: See anything wrong?

Nikolai: No, all looks in order.

Guard: Then approve my passport.

Nikolai took the green stamp and pressed it against the top of the booklet and handed it back to the guard.

Guard: Very good, now get dressed and be ready to open the checkpoint in 10 minutes. I must return to my post.

NOVEMBER 23, 1998
5:50

Day 1

Getting his uniform together was simple. Nikolai had deposited his street clothes in the locker and looked over himself in a mirror.

It brought him a sense of pride that he'd once again don another uniform such as this one. Yet, with that pride, he still felt nervous and desolate. This was not his job of choosing, he was essentially forced to this.

But, he decided to put his darker thoughts aside and start his new employment as the Grestin Checkpoint inspector.

Sitting in the chair and opening the shutters, he's then met with the bland, prison-like, booth. Giving it a once over, he then grabbed the rule book and placed it on the right side of his desk.

After being sure his desk was in order, the fax machine made a soft buzzing noise and a piece of paper was spewed out from the slot.

Accept Arstotzkans, deny anyone else, simple enough.

With that in mind, Nikolai took the microphone, that was hooked up to the speakers outside, in his hand and uttered the word that ultimately started his career.

"NEXT!"

He hears footsteps enter the small booth and a old woman with bobbed hair appears at the window.

Nikolai: Papers, Please.

The woman passes her passport through to his side and immediately he sees the Arstotzkan eagle on its cover.

Woman: Finally, I can return home.

Name, date of birth, and serial number are all irrelevant right now.

Face matches, expires next year, and the issuing city is Paradizna

Looks good

Nikolai takes the green stamp and presses it onto the passport, allowing entry. He hands it back to the older woman and she accepts it with joy.

Woman: Thank you, young man.

Nikolai: Glory to Arstotzka.

She nods her head and, with a smile, walks through the booth to the Arstotzkan side of the border.

Nikolai grinned at the notion that he could bring families back together. Even if his own family may be gone, he could still help others reunite with theirs.

He picks up the microphone and sternly say:

"NEXT!"

Another woman, middle aged with dark shoulder-length hair and glasses, entered the booth. Her face neutral as she looks around the booth.

Nikolai: Papers, Please.

The woman looks to him and fetches the passport from her purse. She slides it to him as she, once again, looks around the booth.

Woman: This checkpoint is smaller than I expected...

Nikolai says nothing as he takes her passport, noticing that she is Imporian, a foreigner, he would have to deny her.

Without a second glance, he opens up the passport and grabs the red stamp. He, very briefly, skims over the document and stamps the passport, denying her entry.

He hands back the passport and she looks at it distraught. She opens her mouth to say something, but ultimately holds back.

Nikolai: Arstotzkans only.

The woman says nothing and exits the booth. Then Nikolai realized, that he had to power to unite or separate families. It was something he definitely didn't take joy in, but he had his duty, his proud nation to uphold, if he let everyone in through pity, they might as well tear the wall down and he'd be out of a job.

So it wouldn't make him a bad person to make those kinds of decisions, to uphold Arstotzka's integrity and to keep his job, right?

He shook his head, silencing his thoughts. He had a job to do and he was wasting time thinking.

"NEXT!"

The third person to enter the checkpoint was a man, shorter-than-average height with a short brown Mohawk and a gruff-looking face, he scowled tiredly as he approached Nikolai.

Nikolai: Papers, Please.

He grumbled as he fished his passport from his pocket and slid it to Nikolai.

Man: I've waited in this damn line since last night. I hope it was worth it.

Taking the man's passport, Nikolai saw the Republian emblem on the front, another entrant he'd need to deny. He felt bad for the man, having to stay up all night just to be turned away.

He opened the passport and stamped it red, denying the tired man entry. The man's scowl grew angry as he snatched the passport from his side of the window.

Nikolai: Arstotzkan only.

Man: Unbelievable! Go to hell!

The man stomped out of the booth, cursing under his breath. His final comments made Nikolai feel less sympathetic towards the man, albeit a little.

Shaking his head at the man's attitude, he called the next entrant.

"NEXT!"

The next entrant was another man, short and chubby with dark curly hair, he walk to the booth and looked to Nikolai.

Nikolai: Papers, Please.

The man said nothing and slid his passport to Nikolai.

Upon taking his passport, Nikolai saw the Kolechian star on the cover. He looked up at the man and eyed him suspiciously.

While he didn't hate Kolechians, he did kill his fair share of Kolechian soldiers. So it stands to reason he'd be so wary of them, though, that may just be some old war paranoia.

Nikolai blinked out of his thoughts and focused back on the man's passport. He opened it and stamped it red before returning it back to the Kolechian.

He looked at the stamp defeated, with a sigh he walks back the way he came. Nikolai watched him go and could help but feel guilty, it wasn't right to be suspicious of a poor man like that, Kolechian or not.

He sighed and called the next entrant.

"NEXT!"

The entrant was like the last, but was balding and had a gruff face filled with animosity. He walked up to the window and stared down at Nikolai.

Nikolai: Papers, Ple-

Man: It was a mistake to open this checkpoint.

The man interrupted Nikolai and left him confused.

Nikolai: I...I'm sorry? What did you just say?

The man said nothing more and left the booth hurriedly. Nikolai did nothing but continue processing entrants.

Perplexed, Nikolai took a every moment between entrants to process what had happened. When he did he felt unnerved, something didn't feel right with the man's words, something he'd have to be wary of, but not too paranoid about it.

HOOONK!

He was brought out of his thoughts as a horn blared through the speakers.

"IT IS TWELVE O'CLOCK. INSPECTIONS WILL CONTINUE IN ONE HOUR."

Checking his desk clock, Nikolai saw that it was twelve and that he had processed 20 people in those six hours.

The door to his booth opened up, revealing the guard as Nikolai closed the shutters.

Guard: Comrade! Great first half!

Nikolai: Oh, T-thank you, comrade.

The guard noticed his tense posture and raised his brows.

Guard: Are you okay? Was it really that nerve-wrecking?

Nikolai shook his head and explained what the man from earlier had said.

Guard: Ah, I see. On edge after that, huh? Don't worry, many people don't like Arstotzka and there are many who wish the border was open. It must be this way though, for Glorious Arstotzka to flourish.

Nikolai only nodded and relaxed his posture. The guard smiled and beckoned to him.

Guard: Come, comrade! Let's get something to eat, my treat for your good work today!

Nikolai smiled gratefully to the guard as he walk out of the booth with him.

Guard: Oh, how rude of me. I never introduced myself. I am Corporal Timur Leviska.

Finally learning the name of his coworker, (though he saw it in his passport but ignored it) Timur held out his hand and Nikolai took it.

Nikolai: Nikolai Yabanov, I was a corporal too when I served.

Timur: You were military? Ha! Then we'll get along just fine, my friend!

Timur slung his arm around Nikolai's shoulder and laughed. Nikolai mentally sighed that he actually had something in common with his, seemingly only, coworker. Timur seemed like a likable man and seem kind and outgoing.

It would seem that he would enjoy his time working the border, he thought.

How wrong that would be...

A/N: Hello comrades! It has been awhile, hasn't it...? Well I can't say I'm back exactly, but I found a little more motivation to write. Life's been as bitch, but I'm trying. Finally getting this chapter out will mean I'll continue the Gate story. As for Payday, I'm still going to write it but it'll be awhile. I'm gonna write on my own time. Though, I'll probably have a Gate chapter out within a couple of months. Well thank y'all for staying with me this far and as always in this kind of story...

GLORY TO ARSTOTZKA

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