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[i]Let food be thy medicine and medicine be thy food.[/i] - Hippocrates

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[i]"In my opinion. Respect...is the ultimate pillar of any society. People must respect those who rule them, yet also those who rule over the people, must respect them in return. The Good King must respect what his people desire - food, clothing, work and a purpose. While the people in return must respect his choices and his will. That is the basic ideal of feudalism. The King provides the land, the Knights manage it and the Peasants work upon it. This system failed, since the King would often have his choices be bad and his will be misguided - while his anger was directed at the Peasants and Knights who served him. The Knights in turn, used their power over the Peasants and kept them oppressed and ignorant. Respect has to work both ways, or otherwise it might collapse upon itself."[/i]

[i]"Back when we had a Tsar - we were expected to serve without question. The rule and word of the Tsar was absolute and to question it, was to imply disrespect towards him. Thus, our system worked and function this way until the death of the 'final' Tsar of Russia. The collapse of not only Imperial Authority but almost splintering of all territories indicated - that the people would no longer respect the Tsar or those whom he had chosen. Quite simply, he had refused to respect his people. He had refused to treat them with respect and dignity."[/i]

[i]"Any society, wishing to remain relevant and strong for years - needs to understand this basic principle. Without respect, you would have no social order. Without respect, you would have no stability. A ruler must know when to not give in to his people, yet also know when to respect their wishes. In return, the people must also respect and support their ruler - but always remind them, to respect them. Since any authority eventually and always relies on the will of the people. And all rules must respect the people' desire for food..."[/i]

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Chairman Yukarev watched as many people from an another city district filed into the Office of Food Distribution. Namely it was a fancy name given to something, that was in essence a giant warehouse near the docks. Here was the location, where most of the City of Arkhangelsk got it's weekly ration of food. While under a semi-capitalist society, most people could work and pay for such a commodity here it was different.

While there was work, the Socialist Union had one socialist thing about them - namely they made sure to distribute food for everyone in the city. While people could work, in the sub-arctic climate there was always the danger - that one got injured or sick. If one couldn't work, then one couldn't buy food. Also, there were those whom couldn't work anymore or were too old to be able to afford such a thing anymore. Most work happened, in the mines, the forests and in the army. While there existed some light industrial work and hand-craftmanship - it was always a maybe or maybe not situation. 

Life in the cold wasteland was always a fight between survival and hunger. Thus, one of the policies of the ASU was that all people - rich, poor, young or old - were given a standard ration of food. If they wanted more, they could work and buy it. Or if they couldn't - then there would be at least some sort of food on their table. Something like this, might be considered welfare or food aid in the West - here, it was considered a way of life. 

People mostly had to write down, where they lived and how many lived in the home, they had. This ensured, that nobody could abuse the system - since one of the only harshest penalties in the Arkhangelsk Socialist Union was stealing food. Since one could always gain food by working or from the state on a weekly basis. Anything more, was simply greediness in it's most basic form. The people in the cities, had to gather at such warehouses - that were guarded twenty-four hours by Arkhangelsk Guards Army. While those who lived in the rural areas, had food brought to them via soldiers on skis or pulled by dog-sleds. 

Yukarev came here every week to help oversee, the distribution of the food - since it helped to both keep him and the people grounded in reality. The people needed to see, that their Chairman and leader wasn't some Tsar on a red throne - and it helped to keep Yukarev focused on the people too. He had no desire on wanting to become, a Dictator or Tsar. Being here, helped him meet and talk with the common man or woman...or child.

One such patron happened to be a young teenage girl, who was carrying a document that didn't belong to her or namely didn't match the picture. "I am sorry. My mother is ill, she couldn't come and I am not old enough to get my Party Identification done yet..." she explained.

"You know the rules. We need a-" spoke a soldier, before he was silenced, when the Yukarev placed a hand upon his shoulder. 

"Come now. Check up the paperwork. Does she have a daughter?" asked Yukarev, giving a rather grandfatherly smile at them both.

"Well...yes. But-"

"I think, we can make an exception. Soldier. How about you, help escort these supplies to her home and make sure of that," explained Yukarev.

"But, Chairman. Who will handle-"

"Don't worry. I can help. Standing around here anyway," he chuckled, dismissing the young teen and soldier on their way - as he took the place, of the soldier whom handled the handing out of food to the people. Next in line, happened to be an old woman - almost as old as Yukarev. Some of the people here, looked tired and some even relieved.

All in various states of clothing - some better dressed, others wearing old torn boots and patched jackets. Such a sight, might even break the cold heart of Nicholas II - if he had happened to be here. This was what Yukarev needed daily - respect of the people, and for them to be treated with respect as well. For people living in these regions, the bare possibility of having food on their table was all that they needed. After all, any society was three meals away from collapse - even one build-up on the ideals of Socialism.

Yukarev' hands moved slowly but methodically - as he checked the list with his eyes and placed the food items in the bag. Bread, fish, wheat, potatoes - some imported dairy and other things. Before he handed it over to the old woman - while leadership was a burden itself, the sight of having an old woman smile at bag full of groceries was enough to ease that weight, just a bit. Since Yukarev knew, that for people like here - these aids might be the only source of food they had in here. Once she left, Yukarev got to servicing a younger man - and do this until night would come. Always smiling at those who came, both the grateful and cynical. As leadership wasn't always leading from the top, it sometimes meant activity at the bottom as well.