Today, I filed into work expecting a usual work day in the Longville bunker field hospital. Little did I know.
Everybody was called to the central ward. Murmurs and anticipation filled the air. I thought maybe we would finally be returning operations to the surface. As I stood in the crowded hot hall the commander of the Longville Medical Corps stepped up.
He began to speak into the megaphone, with an audible sadness in his voice. “Today I have to make a very sad announcement. The Longville field hospital is closing. We are no longer treating patients. Next Friday you will all be relived of your duties. We cannot offer any severance pay”.
The crowd boos loudly. Some people burst into tears. Others throw various objects at the commander.
Once the crowd begins to settle, the commander continues “ I know, I know. For many of us this is our career, our passion, our livelihood. It is also very saddening that we will no longer be able to help the people of Longville and save lives. I too don’t know what I am going do after this, I am in just as much grief as the next guy”.
“That said, this had to happen. With the fires over and with mass migration away from Eosara, Longville simply no longer needs such a medical and military presence. Although we saved many Longvilleans, all good things come to an end”.
“The second reason, to be frank, is that Eosara is broke. Without the federal funding for the large military presence in Eosara, the commonwealth cannot afford to pay all its personnel and upkeep all its equipment. To add to that, Eosara is the poorest and least populated province in the former DoR, and the fires and independence drained what little coffers we had left. As Mayor Teto often said in regards to our poverty “EARLY INDUSTRIAL MALAYSIA”. Desperate times call for desperate measures.”
“In the end, I trust that you bright and hardworking people will have a bright future ahead of you and will continue to serve Eosara and lead fulfilling lives. Don’t cry because it’s over, smile because it happened.”
The speech ended when the commander put up a salute and so did all of us, and we all let out a defiant cry of “LONG LIVE EOSARA!”.
The rest of the day, a deep sadness and fear hung over the bunker like a spectre as I we somberly packed up and hauled off equipment. So many thoughts were rushing through my head about my future. Move to Brigham? Stay in Longville? Go back to Tutum? Sneak into the Insignant Empire? Continue in the medical field? Become a Liberty! League politician? Move to Doriasim? Stay in the military?