Operational Endings
(Colonel Fred Pryor POV)
So thats it, Twenty-Five Years of Routine thrown out the window?
It had long been suspected that with the change in the upper crust of the Ministery of Defence, something was going to happen. He just didn't want to be the one to break the news, he had a week before retirement for shit's sake.
You wanted to gag. "Sir…I know this comes from the top, but even then its a remarkable change of protocol, you can't just ground nearly a hundred flight missions over the Wilds or the Outlands and not have some damn pushback, I get it, the boss wants to focus on refinement of the goods and the men using them, but god damn it are you making this a mess."
The Older man, a decade or two older than yourself, a General took off his hat for but a moment to wipe his brow before letting you stop. "Shit out of luck Fred, part of that new initiative, looking inward and such. Focus on the game's technology, focus on keeping the inners happy and not wasting half of our budget hitting things the size of a hamlet. The President's alot of things, but he can't keep the mess of the OTHER industrialists happy if he keeps giving us the pie."
God I wonder which contractor in District Two put the President up to this…has to be the Counter-Warfare pussy's getting tired of going out into the bush.
"What mother…was it those Mechanized Calvery Assholes? I keep telling them that they are at best a supplemental force, they couldn't do jack shit without the Airforce wiping their ass fighting those Tenners." You complained.
"Need boots on the ground Fred, can't keep things simple flying over them. Warfare 101…somebody's got to die." He said.
"Well why not take money out of the Navy they don't even do anything save go off and look for ghosts up north." You said.
The general nodded. "While I myself have made barbs at the Navy for the big sinking of money they've been doing its not up to me, The new Minister of Defence is pushing for a more Mixed style of Military doctrine, one that fights smarter, not harder. Ain't nothing we can do?"
"So where does that put me sir? I can't work administration not again." You said.
"You will go where Panem puts your ass Colonel, we can't afford to keep chasing ghosts, not now. Much as it pains me to say it we're moving you to Air Calvery." He said.
It was a dead end posting somewhere in the old Southwest now, the Mormans had been quiet for years and the less said about the other units near Upper Florida the better.
"Yes sir." You said.
"Oh, and Fred?" He started.
"Yes Felix?" You answered.
"Be thankful its District 5, Not 9, otherwise you'd really hate me."
AN: The reasoning for your opening, A Change in Military Doctrine, and Panem Political fuckery.
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