Of the many duties The General required, Solomon found Assimilation Operations the most distasteful. In a world of ever-diminishing resources, he saw no point in coddling the old…the infirm…the weak. Still and all, if he wanted to continue to enjoy nourishing food, untainted water and secure shelter, he would do as he was told.
The convoy began setting up a perimeter as Solomon surveyed the rag-tag settlement with obvious contempt. As he’d expected they were a motley assortment of oldsters, women and children. They were unfitting of inclusion into haven The General was raising from the nuclear ashes. Fighting down his disgust, he climbed atop an APC.
“The General instructs me to inform you of the conditions under which you will be assimilated into our community of rebirth and reconstruction. Firstly, all will work for the common good or receive no food or water. Secondly, strict obedience and loyalty to the rules are required of all. Finally, all weapons, tech and…well…anything determined to best benefit the common good will be surrendered..now. Any questions?”
Hoping there wouldn’t be anybody this time, Solomon watched the old man emerge from the crowd. There was always one.
“Well, what if we don’t want to –‘
Solomon forestalled the query with a well-placed shot between the man’s eyes. As the body crumpled to the ground, he fixed the remaining settlers with a hard gaze. “Okay, any other questions?”
He knew there wouldn’t be any as his soldiers began a sweep of the area for salvage.
This story was written for the weekly Thursday Threads flash fiction challenge prompt: "Any questions?"