!IMYfe1j54Y 11/29/10(Mon)03:10 No.12965647|
(Oh wait, some writefaggotry because I feel like it and I don't want to do my work ATM).
Major Walker watched from the view screen as the last of the Pelicans lift off from Hearth. As the Pelican climbed higher and gained speed, a flight of Storks flew from the direction it was headed, leaving towers of fire in their wake.
The Major snorted in anger. Command wouldn’t clear any air strikes, yet in the end, they were going to level the infected area anyway. He shook his head in frustration. He could have saved more of his men’s lives if they had let him call in some air strikes to begin with. He could have saved more of the civilians if they’d let him. But no, bureaucracies and politics prevented him from running the operation his way.
He sighed once more, dabbing his cigar in the ash tray. Evergrad was likely to have his ass for this. And this time, he didn’t know if Fierstrom would back him up. Penny-pinching tightwad Overseer probably couldn’t realize that if he could do things his way, it would probably cost less in the long run. Instead of having to call in a Colossus and a Chimera, he could have called in one, maybe two air strikes, and gotten the same results. But no, he had to follow brass, politics, and protocol, all to appease the higher-ups who only saw numbers, not men.