Duty Log | Gen. Richard Sharpe | "What are we doing out here?"
Posted on 241501.01 @ 8:00pm by General Richard Sharpe
Mission: The Fight For Peace [GQ Plot]
OOC: Strong Profanity within this log. Reader discretion is advised.
=/\= Camp Patton, Xonnel Colony =/\=
Xonnel Colony, located on Zetari III, was set in a beautiful vista. One could almost say it was the embodiment of the stereotype of a Federation colony. Lush green fields surrounding perfectly constructed buildings, with forests, rolling hills, a river, and a lovely waterfall feature. To call the place paradise, would not do it justice. It was ideal, and someone living here could forget all the problems of the universe.
Camp Patton however, was not as nice.
"This place is a shit-heap!" Richard scowled.
He did have reasonable cause for his opinion. Camp Patton had basically been abandoned for just over a decade - since the construction of Starbase Zetari took over marine operations. In that time, there had been absolutely no maintenance. One day the marines had been ordered to relocate to the starbase, and the last person out simply turned off the lights.
The marine base occupied a large area of space about twenty miles due south of the colony. Built around the same time, the base offered a mid sized airstrip for a fighter wing to operate from, barracks, operations buildings, a motor-pool, armouries, and other structures.
The centre, or 'heart' of the base, was occupied by the command building, which was a three story brick structure, with a spire style clock tower growing out of the middle of it. There were seven large windows on each of the three floors, with the spire growing from just above the fourth window on the third floor, protruding through the roof. On the ground floor, instead of a window, were a pair of double doors that granted access to a lobby area inside the building.
However, the years had not been kind to this place, and there was plant growth all over the building. The once carefully manicured lawns that sprawled in front of the building were wild and unkempt. The flagpole had fallen down and smacked into the building, presumably in a storm, and broken the roof on one section of the building. Windows were missing, the doors were hanging off their hinges, swinging in the breeze.
Richard, carrying a duffle over one shoulder, began to enter the building. He crunched on the broken glass that had once been part of the windows of the entry doors, and entered the lobby. It was thick with dust, leaves, overgrown plants and fauna. A local animal had made a nest of the reception desk from the looks of things.
Turning to his staff officers, Richard wore a rather unimpressed scowl on his face. "What the fuck are we doing here? This place is a joke."
"With a bit of work, we can effect repairs, General." His engineer regiment commander pointed out. "My concerns are more with the state of some of the other facilities."
"I assume you've done your surveying?" Richard asked, turning to look at the man. The only light in the whole room was coming from the open doorway.
"Indeed sir." Colonel Wixiban reported. He was a dour old scotsman, who Sharpe had instantly liked when he'd met the man. He didn't want to be out here anymore than Sharpe did, and through adversity, the men bonded. "We've got a couple of structural collapses, some close to that point that I've condemmed. The traffic control tower at the airbase has to be torn down and rebuilt, as that'll fall over in a wee breeze."
"What about the runway itself?" General Valenar asked, the one star who administratively owned all aviation units. "I have several air groups out there that need a home."
"Completely out of commission, General." Wixiban replied. "It has more growth on it than my face, and thats caused pot-holing, cracking and subsidence. I wouldn't try to land an aircraft on that unless you like air crashes."
"What about ammunition and weapons storage? Those facilities were underground." General Trident, the two star division commander of the infantry asked.
"There's been some water seepage in two of them, but the other eight are sound." Wixiban replied. "The armouries however, a few need some TLC, but nothing that can't be done on the fly. Its your barracks that are the problem. They're the weakest structures, and many have collapsed or are about to. I would say we can house about two brigades in the existing structures, after some repairs and cleaning out. The rest will have to camp out in the fields."
"The motor-pool?" General Phoenix asked, the one star who commanded the demi-division of armour.
"In surprisingly good condition, General. I don't see any concerns there, other than some cleaning and cosmetics." Wixiban replied, reading his PADD.
"And this shit heap?" Richard asked, kicking the wall with his boot.
"Well, it needs clearing out, the roof repairing, the door replacing, the windows replacing, and some other cosmetic work - but on the whole, this is actually one of the better buildings." Wixiban smiled. "You should see the gates to the base. If someone wanted to get onto this base right now, they could just walk right on in."
"Well, before we put arms and ammo down here, or tanks or aircraft, we'd better secure the place." Richard said. "Neo, that's your problem." He said, talking to General Trident.
"I'll get on it." The silver haired man replied.
"And you, Wixi, fix up this damn place. I want to get my ass off the Carolina." Richard muttered.
"Well..." Wixiban said. "The big issue is housing. Officer housing is in a terrible state too, you know."
"How bad?" Richard asked.
"The commanding General's villa has collapsed, as a rather large tree fell on it." Wixi replied, matter of factly.
"Oh, that's fucking marvellous!" Richard snarled. "Someone, get me a tent, and some fucking scotch!" He kicked the reception desk, which having had enough abuse, collapsed.
"That right there, sums up this entire sodding mission." Richard said to his staff officers. "If anyone wants me, I'm going to go see how bad Admiral Denterius has it in town. Phoenix, get me a jeep."
= End Log =
General Richard Sharpe
Commander, 3rd MEF
