These last thirty days are the last chances for some people, the last bits of a year long effort at accomplishment. For the upper echelons of command, this is the last chance to get a nice looking bullet on an Evaluation Report. For the lower, it is the last bit of effort which needs be put forward to finally get out of this place. On a personal level, this is the last chance to accomplish betterment. To lose weight, get fit, look good. To be ready to integrate back into society.
And unless you've been building up this whole time, training each day for whatever little goal you want, chances are you won't get it.
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As far as the original MFT3 goes, we're still scattered. Sirsquatch, long deposed, is serving out his time as the company executive officer, a position he can pretend is a promotion but we all know isn't.
Old White Man, if my sources are correct, is still playing soldier to MFT1, in Q-West. And after a year of whining, has finally been promoted.
Thin Mints is south, in Adder, on a Human Intelligence Collection Team, composed of other Interrogators.
Goblin King, Blue, Jibba Jabba, Sausage Fingers, 68; they're all in some northern outpost know as Heider. Of this place I know relatively little, except that they're there.
And Skitzo, the Scream, Mr. Pringles, and Traitor...Well, they're also in Heider, still claiming membership on the MFT.
I'm stuck on Al Asad for the time being, doing a job and well according to feedback, but it isn't what I came here to do. However, all elements of what once was a team, will reunite in Kuwait and continue from there. We'll have come full circle.
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