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Duty Log - ColTowers

Posted on 241509.22 @ 8:03am by Colonel Adam Towers

Mission: The Krigoran War [GQ]

=*= BEGIN LOG =*=

Towers was sure that the increase in volume of the weapons fire across the river was partially because he was getting closer, but that didn't explain the increase in tempo. He was close enough to hear, ever so faintly, the odd shouted order... when the sound wasn't swallowed up by energy blasts and explosions.

He had no time to plan, however, as his pursuers were not far behind. It was bewildering to Towers how they had managed to stay with him the entire time. The soldiers were completely inept, awful shots, awful tacticians, yet no matter what tricks he used to evade them, they stuck to him like glue.

And the fact was, Towers was running out of ideas. They were well aware of his explosives prowess by now, particularly after a modified claymore had torn three soldiers to ribbons and left them screaming in agony. They now kept their distance and proceeded more slowly, but always stuck with him.
And every time he had tried to get near the river, a withering hail of fire had forced him to break off, move down the water a ways, and try again. An apt comparison would have Towers as a bee buzzing around in a jar.

"This bee still has some sting left." He muttered, watching the tree line carefully.

There.

Towers snapped his rifle up, ever aware that he was running out of ammo, and fired twice. A scream.

Shaking off the fatigue, he started running again.

"Don't move!" A yell from in front of him. Towers skidded to a halt.

"Damn." Towers muttered. This time instead of pushing him away from the river they had simply let him get closer and decided to make certain of the end of the chase.

"Hands up!" The Krigoran soldier stepped out from behind his cover, a half dozen comrades popping out from other nearby positions.

Towers replied with a choice insult about the soldier's manhood.

"Hands UP!" He repeated.

"Come and make me, little boy. You're pretty brave with all your friends around." Towers said.

The young soldier fired a shot into the ground in front of Towers and repeated his demand.

Towers stared at him, unimpressed. He was playing on the fact that they didn't simply walk up and grab him, with this many guns pointed his way. If they had wanted him dead, they'd have shot him outright. If they wanted him alive, they were going to have to earn it.

Not that he knew what he was going to do with the time his stalling had earned him.

Which was when the ground seemed to vibrate, and one of the soldiers in front of him dropped with a smoking hole in his chest.

Towers shook his head, his ears ringing from the noise, a noise he had learned to recognize long ago.

Boom. Another shot from Chase Edmunds' .50 calibre sniper rifle blew the arm off a second Krigoran soldier.

"Kill him!" The man that had ordered Towers to surrender screamed as he whirled around, trying to figure out where their assailant was.

His order had meant for them to kill the sniper. Towers realized with a sinking feeling that one or two of the Krigorans had misinterpreted that order as they pulled their triggers. Yelling "Not me, you bloody fools!" probably wouldn't have helped.

He dove for the ground, but knew he was too late. Searing pain should up his torso and left arm and he willed himself not to scream as he felt the impacts. The world seemed to slow as Towers hit the ground, and he could vaguely hear the sniper rifle reporting repeatedly... boom, boom, boom, boom. The pain was excruciating.

Looking up with one eye, as the other half of his face was mashed into the forest floor, he saw the blurry outline of a soldier getting ready to stab down with a bladed weapon and finish him off. He watched, fascinated, as the weapon came down.

He blinked as the knife buried itself in the ground mere inches from his face. Blinking again, he watched as the nearly headless corpse of his assailant fell to the ground.

The ground felt soft and warm, and Towers knew he deserved a nap, after the marathon he'd run today. The pain was fading to be replaced by fatigue.

"Sir!" A man in green was running towards him, scattering leaves and dirt as he skidded to a halt beside Towers. The Colonel felt two fingers touch his neck and hold there for a few seconds.

"I'm not dead, Sergeant" He murmured. His voice was muffled by the ground.

"I'm sorry, sir. I wasn't fast enough." Chase said. Towers could vaguely feel the Sergeant poking around near his abdomen.

Towers felt a brief pinch and then what was left of the agony seemed to melt away. Chase had given him something, likely the standard painkiller carried in SFMC first aid field packs.

"How bad?" He asked softly. Chase seemed reluctant to roll him over, and Towers felt himself unable to do it in his own.

"You need help, Colonel." Chase offered as an answer.

It took an hour, but Chase had his help. With the bold attack put forward by Sharpe, it didn't take long for a search team to find Chase and Towers, the latter of whom Chase had knocked out with a sedative from his field kit.

The medic stared at Edmunds and looked back to Towers. "How many blasts did he take?"

"I don't know. I was a little busy." Chase replied.

The medic ignored the rebuke and they got to work on the critically wounded marine.

=*= END LOG =*=

Colonel Adam Towers
Commanding Officer, 5th MEU
Starfleet Marine Corps

 

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