Pilot's Flask - a bar on LA

[Rodent]

"Longer than most."

I had to laugh at Hartman's quips about my long career. There was a time when career men were more common, but the war had made us a definite minority. An illustrious minority, however...sporting amongst us men like David Hale and Jack Malrone. It had been a while, but I was still faintly surprised that Hale retired so soon after I did. The poor man had finally had enough, and I couldn't blame him.

"For all they know, I am in spec-ops, looking for insurgents on Denver or something inane like that. Doubt attempting to grow cabbages would count as counter-terrorism though..." I said, smiling. "As long as they are betting on harmless things, you'll be fine."

Now that I think of it, what had I done after retirement? A whole lot of resting, and forgetting about the horrors of war, maybe becoming just a normal civilian like the rest. But the same long career which had blessed me now cursed me.

"Didn't finalize a job, really. Wandered down to the academy on Denver a couple of times, helping in training and drills. Money isn't really a concern, and I don't know where else I'd be useful."