=/\= Anaxis =/\=
=/\=
Another loud explosion in the building behind him told Richard that the Romulan artillery was trying to pound the marines concentrated on the MSR. Another boom, and the earth on his left flank exploded, sending debris and the remains of two troopers flying in all directions.
Just when they’d thought they’d had it made, the Romulan’s had done something that no one expected. They’d played Possum, and let the enemy roll in, and then hit them when their flanks were exposed. As a feat of tactical planning, it was pure genius. The marines were caught out in the open, along the road that divided the city, and were being hit on both their flanks at the same time by heavy artillery and infantry, being supported by armour that had been stored underneath the city, and had thusly been unnoticed.
Overhead, elements of the 414th Squadron were running strafing runs of the left flank, firing their pulse phasers into the buildings, trying to give the bunched up marines support. It was a nightmare scenario, and Richard was caught right in the middle of it. Fitting really, since it was his fault. His own complacency, despite his gut telling him not to over-commit, he’d listened to his advisors, and pushed in, and now they were fighting to retreat.
As soon as the fighting had grown more intensive around the MSR, his staff had rushed in, and insisted that he beam up and save himself. He was having none of that shit, and stood firm. Harper, who had returned with Easy Co. even got involved and insisted Richard beam up, because he was too valuable to be captured or killed. Harper even went as far as to threaten to rat him out to Chloe, when Richard had silenced him with a glare so fierce that everyone backed down.
When the MMCV had been hit, everyone was afraid Richard had bought it, but he clambered out of the wreckage, already in his combat gear, grabbed his M16A2 off of Harper, and had started to fight with the marines. He was covered in soot, muck, grime, dried blood – mostly his own from a very nasty gash on his left leg, right arm and his forehead, but he’d carried on regardless.
As the fighters dropped bombs on the left side, he felt that the right flank was faltering under the intense barrage. Steadying himself on his injured leg, he moved to the right flank, and spotted most of the 2nd Battalion crouched behind a sand bag wall, firing back at the enemy sporadically. Richard moved forward, Harper appeared beside him, also covered in grime, soot and blood, holding Richard’s M60 over his shoulder.
“Hold fire!” Richard shouted. Everyone stopped and looked at him, even some of the Romulan’s. “Make ready!” He shouted, and everyone realised what was about to happen. They cocked their rifles, their heavy machine guns, etc, and waited for the order.
“PRESENT!” Richard barked, and everyone pointed their weapon at something.
“FIRE!” Richard barked, firing his own weapon at a Romulan sticking his head up to look out a window. The entire right side opened fire on Richard’s command.
“Rifles! On me! Machine Guns! Suppressing fire!” He barked at the men, and the rifles got up and started advancing forward, firing in line as Richard lead them. Harper was at Richard’s side, holding his M60 out, hosing anything in their way down.
They made fifty feet into the city, killing just about everything and everyone that moved. A radio man ran up to Richard, and offered him the mouthpiece. “Sharpe here.” He said.
“Sir!” Westman shouted. “What’re your orders?”
“Start the evac. Get the wounded out first, then the dead, then we’ll have to do evac beamouts. Have the Ulysses, the
“Yes sir!” Westman said, and the line went dead.
Richard looked behind him as the vehicles, or those that hadn’t been knocked out anyway, were being beamed up, as well as the wounded and dead. The whole process took about ten minutes, during which time, Richard stayed and held the line. He stayed with his men for as long as he could, until he caught a bullet in the shoulder, which sent him spinning around and flailing on his back. He grunted in pain, grabbing his shoulder.
“Richard!” Harper shouted, and turned to two marines standing nearby. “You two, get the General out of here!”
“Belay that!” Richard snapped, and used his rifle to help him to his feet. He had his hand over the wound on his shoulder, blood oozing through his fingers. He picked up his rifle, released his shoulder, put the handle of the rifle in his blood covered hand, and fired from the hip with his rifle.
“Go!” He shouted at Harper and the other marines. “Get out! Get to the beam out point! I’m right behind you!”
He covered the retreat of the marines he had been fighting with, and an extremely reluctant Harper started to move back, when Richard was hit in the thigh with a bullet. He fell to the ground hard, and gasped in pain as he hit the dirt. Harper ran back to him, grabbed him under his arms, and dragged him backwards towards the beam out point.
The marines who were falling back, spotted this, and ran back to help carry their wounded CO out of danger. They were the last to make it to the MSR, where apart from the burned out wrecks of the tanks that had been knocked out, and the shell of the MMCV, still on fire, there was no one else. The Romulan’s were starting to push through, and Richard felt the familiar tingle of the transporter whisk him away, and the next moment found him on a starship.
He looked around the transporter bay, and spotted the alive and well marines milling around, who turned and spotted who was lying on the floor of the tranporter. Three people barged their way through the crowd, medical officers, and started to scan him.
“He needs to go to sickbay.” One of them said, but Richard pushed him aside.
“No.” He said. “I need to find out the status of the evacuation.”
Without warning, someone had placed a hypo to his neck, and then everything went black.
=/\= End Log =/\=
MGen. Richard Sharpe
CO
1st MEF
