"Rocket!"
The rocket detonated on the third floor. The warning came too little, too late for the Marines there. Those on the unlucky side were violently thrown onto the floor. Ones with slightly more luck had shards of transparisteel slice into them. The rest retreated away from the windows.
"Get up there and get our casualties below here, now!" yelled the lieutenant."Aye, sir!" Merrick and the Marines yelled, and they quickly disengaged. "Suppressing fire!" gruffed the company commander through their helmet commlinks.
Merrick's shins burned as they made their way up the stairs. The entire company has been in continuous combat for over 20 hours. They had made their way through one objective, only to find out that it had changed moments or moments prior. They had no food, and were running low fast on water and ammunition.
"This day wasn't supposed to go like this. What a damn foul up!"
When they reached the third floor, the Marines split up into two teams - two fire teams dragged the dead and wounded out, while the other two provided suppressing fire. Merrick was on the latter, and another Marine helped out a casualty, which had their neck sliced by shrapnel, while burns covered the front of their opted to carry the Marine's weapon, which was a light blaster cannon. On a good day, unloaded, it weighed 9 standard kilograms.
It was not a good day.
Merrick struggled to carry the casualty as both the cannon and casualty kept throwing them off balance. The two slings dug into both their shoulders. Time slowed down and sped up with no rhyme nor rhythm nor reason.
But in combat, the passage of time means nothing to its participants, and soon, Merrick was helping another casualty from the top floor. Then another. "Sir, all casualties were transferred and accounted for," said Merrick's squad leader.
"Get back to your original positions! C-SAR and reinforcements will arrive soon! We have to drive these helldogs back!" screamed the platoon leader.
Merrick took up a position, and started shooting carefully.
One and a three-quarters mags left. Not good. They'd better get here soon!
A smattering of sonic booms drowned everything else out on the battlefield. A few seconds later, a series of explosions rocked all around them, lighting the battlefield with an orange flash, followed by smoke, and finally, the sound of collapsing buildings.
Merrick took a couple of milliseconds to find their temporary saviors. They had been gone as quickly as they came, and they were hundreds of meters in the air. The anti-aircraft fire was too strong and accurate for them to stick around and fly low as they usually did. "I'll buy you Covair pilots 5 rounds at the cantina when we get back, you beautiful beasts!" shouted one of Merrick's squadmates.
A burst of fire hit too close to Merrick, smattering their face with tiny bits of plascrete and they collapsed onto the deck. Adrenaline flowed too quickly for Merrick to care about the pain, and they got back up and continued to fire. For some reason, the enemy had just gotten braver after the airstrike, and the fire intensified as they covered for their comrades who are now charging towards their position in a frenzy.
The fervor was ultimately for naught, however, as the Marines cut them down with accurate fire. Even with their casualties, the enemy had refused to retreat, and fighting continued, with less rounds coming at the Marines than before. Merrick turned to see one of their squadmates leaning against the wall below the window next to them.
"You alright?" "I'm okay! It's just a flesh wound! Just help me with this!" and handed Merrick a kolto spray. Merrick made sure the spray was correctly dosed, and then returned to their assigned window.
The shooting still raged on, but it lessened down by every moment, and after almost 2 hours, both were reduced to taking careful potshots at each other.
"We'll be on rotation - two squads on watch, two on rest for the next hour. Watch squads - the moment you see or hear anything, alert us. Rest squads - keep your weapons, armor and gear on. We don't want to get caught unguarded." radioed in the company commander. "Yes, sir!" came the scattered worn-out and weary voices of a company's worth of Marines.
Merrick's squad were the lucky ones, and they and another squad retreated into the center room of the building. They all simply plopped down onto the floor. Some tried to hydrate, some took a small bite of their snack rations, and some simply just dozed off as the adrenaline died down. Even the sound of nearby firing couldn't shake them out.
After almost an entire day of battle, who could fault them?
Merrick took a small sip from their own water bottle. They estimated that they had three or four swigs worth of fluid. If we don't get relieved soon, we'll die of hunger and dehydration, if not of enemy action.
Merrick simply leaned their helmeted head against the wall and fell into slumber. They were rudely awakened with a strong hit on their left shoulder, and quickly got up, rifle ready, before a message crackled into their radio. "Get the casualties aboard!" Merrick's fire team carried a casualty on a stretcher. When they got out of the building, they were greeted with quite a sight.
Their reinforcements have finally arrived. A long convoy of light vehicles, armored personnel carriers and armored infantry fighting vehicles gave the beleaguered Marines some needed fire support. Republic Army troops began pouring out of the vehicles and started firing. A team of combat search and rescue operators and combat engineers began to work on what was the company's objective - a crashed assault dropship.
The twisted wreckage was being cut apart to gain access to the injured troops within. Merrick's company had saved two bodies that were thrown when it crashed. That left another 5 of its crews and gunners.
After Merrick had loaded their casualties into a vehicle, Merrick asked a nearby Army trooper, "Can you spare a mag?" The young soldier looked bewildered for a moment, then nodded as she pulled out a mag from her belt. Merrick loaded it into their plate carrier before starting to shoot again.
"Cover! Cover the rescue team!" yelled out Merrick's platoon sergeant. They all fired whenever and wherever the enemy pops out. They had come too far to stop and give up now.
Merrick didn't know how long it took, but when the order came out to load into the vehicles, they all went in as quickly as possible. "No need to stay in the killzone! Move!" The convoy tried going as quickly as possible, but with the long stretch of vehicles, they moved at a stream's pace.
Fire and rockets went all around them, but other than four heavily damaged vehicles that were hit while they were stationary, the only thing to break their monotony during the journey was the heavy small arms fire that peppered them. The turret above them continued to fire as they moved
They all eventually reached their base, and Merrick stumbled out of the infantry fighting vehicle. They took out their canteen, held it above their face, and let the water fall into their mouth. It was the best damn water they had.
Merrick was lifted by medics onto a stretcher and outside an aid station. They would've preferred to be inside, but casualties during both their mission and the entire operation were too high. Never mind, they all need it better than I do. Just need to get my strength and then get up
Finally, after about 20 minutes, Merrick got up and checked their chrono. They laughed. It was late morning. 1027 hours.
Merrick removed her helmet, finally letting her hair go free. She had survived yet again. And yet, it was not over for her. And will not be for a long, long time.
