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Operation Overlord II
Massive fanfiction about the retaking of Terra from the WoB
by Collective of Authors |
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Mess hall, Kavanagh HQ, Centaurus 30 April 3058, 1708h Local
"Well, this *does* look pretty good; you get plenty of fresh meat, don't you," Olly asked as they place their meals on the table and sat.
"Oh yes, Centaurus is fairly self-sufficient for necessities; one of the advantages of a habitable climate; but my steak doesn't look quite as good as your chili," Maj. Hopkins replied.
"Ah, well you may have carnal knowledge-"
"WHAT?!?" the woman demanded, blushing.
"Huh? Oh, sorry - I was using the literal translation - 'knowing the meat'. Never occurred to me that someone might construe it like THAT."
He considered what he said, and flushed with embarrassment. "Oh! I *must* apologize for that!"
"Yes...but what were you going to say?" Olly's dining companion asked.
"Um...oh, right - I was going to say that though you had the advantage of knowing the best cuts of meat, but *I* knew the cooks' specialties. Not terribly necessary, now that I think of it..."
"Whatever."
Conversation was put aside as the two officers proceeded to savor their respective culinary choices. They ate with restrained gusto, enjoying the efforts of the Mess staff. When Olly and Red neared finishing their meals, they eased the pace of their consumption, resuming their chat.
"So, the Kommando is still a fairly new unit?"
"Well, that's relative - the force was originally assembled just at the beginning of the Fourth Succession War-"
"That was forty years...surely you weren't *born* then?" Eva exclaimed.
"-by my FATHER, if you'd care to let me finish," Olly smiled in reply. "I've grown up around the 'Mech lance and traveled over half the Sphere with them. After attending Blackjack Academy, I joined the expanding Kavanagh's Killers as a pilot. I was commanding the Recon Lance when Dad bought a packet."
"Sorry to hear that," Hopkins whispered, frowning.
"Bah - he had as good a life as one can expect - a loving wife, a son following in his footsteps; and he'd taken a bunch of disgruntled Elsies and made a successful merc force out of them. I took command, and we've expanded again to add the 'Shadows' - that along with retraining to take raiding and hit-and-run tactics in mind brought about the name change to Kommando. In *that* sense, the -Kommando- could be considered a new unit."
"Hmmmm - disgruntled regulars," Red remarked as she smiled to a private joke of her own. Olly's felt a shift in her mood, and a slight tinge of bitterness to her feelings. He kept his face jovial, and jauntily asked "So, what's your story?"
"Eh? Well, I grew up on Westerhand, an average student who was destined to a life in the service sector" - Olly sensed a flare of anger from the woman across from him - "but I craved excitement, and volunteered for military service. Unfortunately, it wasn't the glorious conquest of the State's enemies I took part in - well they *were* antagonistic to the government, and we defeated them, but I didn't find anything GLORIOUS in stamping out civil insurrection. I went AWOL during a weekend leave, and managed to elude the Masikrovka as far as Outreach. The Lancers started looking for replacements after their first battles with the Clans, and I joined the scout battalion as a trooper."
"You came up through the ranks, huh?"
"Hey, not everyone is *born* into command, Kavanagh! At the risk of sounding immodest, I'm GOOD, and proved my merit for officer status."
"And here you are now, *commanding* the Scouts."
Eva blushed, and corrected him. "Shahan's still in charge - he IS grooming me as his replacement and I've got field command, but it'll be a while yet before I get the rank."
"Well, all you have to do is perform similarly during Overlord, and that promotion is in the bag!"
"That's rather presumptuous, Hauptmann."
"Well, I can - uh," Olly chose his next words very carefully, "let's just say I'm a good judge of character; you'll do just fine."
Hopkins blinked at his last words. "...thanks! And now I suppose we should get back to-"
"Oohhhhhhh, don't say it!" He stood, and a strange look crossed his face. "Would you mind taking care of our plates, I - ah, well I need to check out *other* facilities you've provided..."
Eva started to pile the dishes onto a tray as she realized what Olly was trying to say. "Gotcha! I'll meet you back at the conference room; just don't fall in, bub!"
- - -
Kavanagh let his mind wander as he stood up to the urinal. His thoughts briefly checked off all he had done so far today - the Lancers provided quite amenable accommodations. But with that done, he was left to wonder about some intriguing events that arose during his 'dinner date'.
Maj. Hopkins had given off some odd signals during their talk - especially when she glossed over her time before joining the Capellan military. 'I felt bitterness and pain there,' he thought. 'It was much like Greerson had on the topic of killing - and it wasn't a disillusionment over the Liao method of ensuring "Celestial Harmony"; that woman's got a sore spot...or am I just getting some sort of *echo* off of bonding with Tomas like that? Well, I'll have to find out more to rule something out - I *hate* being uncertain about something like this - for better or worse.' He shook, zipped himself up, and washed his hands. Glancing in the mirror, he caught himself 'preening' himself. 'Whup; now WHY was I doing *that*?' Olly thought ironically. He stared at his reflection, weighing the possibility of a romantic involvement. After several minutes he was unable to either come up with enough benefits to condone an affair, or enough disadvantages to forbid himself. "What am I DOING?" Kavanagh demanded of the glass, startling the other occupants of the washroom. "You don't *try* to make something like that happen, you just *let* it." A sly, lopsided grin appeared on the man's face. "And I think I'll just sit back and see what develops."
* * * * *
Conference room, Kavanagh HQ, Centaurus 1754h Local
"So, is *everything* to your satisfaction, Hauptmann Kavanagh?" Hopkins inquired as he reentered the office. As his mind was on a different train of thought, it took him a split-second to realize the gist of the woman's question.
"Oh, WONDERFUL - it was the most pleasurable waste-disposal experience of my life; the whole aura and atmosphere was both relaxing and stimulating! The exact level and hue of the light strips, the ambient temperature, the flow of air through the latrine, the particular scent of the antiseptic cleaner, even the color of paint used all contributed to an event that was just simply *rapture*!" He clasped his hands to his chest in a dreamy, semi-conscious manner.
"What a load of shit!" Eva snorted, expressing what she thought of Olly's 'religious experience'.
He beamed and pointed straight at her for emphasis. "Exactly!" he called out and was totally incapable of keeping a straight face any longer. They both started to giggle, and - each encouraged by the actions of the other - laughed for several minutes, stopping only due to a lack of breath.
"What gave me away," Olly asked, plopping into his chair and shrugging off his jacket.
"I think when you waxed lyrical about the smell of disinfectant; that's what put it over the top," answered 'Red', wiping a tear of laughter from her cheek. "Wow, I really needed that," she exclaimed.
"Thank you, thank you - I'll be performing here all week..."
"Enough! We've got work to do - the Blakists aren't gonna sit around waiting for you to finish your set, so let's get the training gear distributed."
Kavanagh sighed. He opened a file and was about to ask his liaison a question when a knock on the door interrupted both of them. Olly turned in his seat to behold Tech Krauder's more usual grubby, greasy and disheveled appearance. He held up a length of half-inch metal tubing and declared the he'd found the blockage of the fuel line.
"Excellent - this means you've replaced the particular section of pipe, Georgi?"
"Of course, sir...but I thought you might like to see what caused the blockage," the old man suggested, offering the rigid metal hose to his commander.
Olly frowned, put one eye to an end of the pipe, and turned it to catch the light. His face coloured, and he slapped his empty breast pocket as a brilliant glint reached out of the dark hose to his eye. His jaw slackened, but his brow knitted in thought. "How did I lose..." His mouth snapped shut, his lips a grim line, and he handed the tubing back to Krauder and coolly inquired if his tech could remove the object.
"I'll have it out in a sec. I'll try not to damage it, sir but-"
"You can chop it to tin foil for all I care!" Olly snapped. He shook his head and said "Sorry, Georgi - that was unnecessary of me."
"Don't feel bad, sir. I just thought you might want it back..."
Kavanagh sighed, staring of into space for a second. "I dunno; it's part of the past and I want to get on with my life, but a keepsake would be nice."
The tech had been pushing a wire into the length of pipe, and as his superior stopped talking, the object within slipped loose and dropped to the table, spinning slightly as it settled amongst the paperwork. Olly stared at the diamond band with a blank expression.
Eva, who had been a spectator to all this, motioned Krauder over to her. "What's all this about?"
"Well, that ring was the Hauptmann's engagement ring to his fiancee, a fellow mech jock - Ellie MacGregor. She died in combat about a year ago-"
"Shit; that's why he was such a mope back on Outreach."
"Yeah, but he seemed to break clear of his own personal storm cloud just before we shipped out."
"I *thought* he seemed more chipper lately, but I don't know him well enough."
"Well, just before jump, he made an announcement that he was officially finished mourning, and he seems to be almost back to his old self, but now..."
"Now, I'm just finishing a little bout of maudlin reminiscence, you two - stop whispering!" Olly declared with a lopsided grin. He was fidgeting with the ring in his hand, and as he glanced down at it, he wondered "What am I gonna do with this? I can't just keep it in my pocket and prevent myself from moving on, nor can I sell it - that'd be ghoulish - and I can't use it again if and when I fall in love again; I'd be thinking of HER every time I saw it..."
"Well, speaking as a woman, I don't think I'd mind that much," Hopkins announced, surprising even herself. "Ah, well - hypothetically speaking, I mean. For argument's sake, let's say you and I fall in love."
"Hypothetically, you mean," Olly asked with a frown.
"Of course - just suppose; well, even though you wanted to marry me, would you *never* think of this Ellie of yours? Would getting rid of that ring banish all the memories of your time with her?"
"No, you're right; I'll never forget her and all she did for me."
Kavanagh chuckled and intoned "Heh, and we've seen what happens when I try throwing this away!"
"Yeah, well - putting myself in the role of your next true-love for a moment, I'd WANT you to remember your past; what you've done and who you've loved before me is quite pivotal as to who you *are* - we can no more throw away formative elements of our pasts than we can just stop talking the way we do, or radically changing our senses of humour overnight! *If* I were to be your wife, I'd want you to remember what makes you YOU," Red finished, shaking her head and adding "Hypothetically speaking, of course."
"Of course," replied Kavanagh, focusing on a point of air somewhere over Hopkins' left shoulder, and twiddling the ring in his hand.
Something appeared to come to Eva's mind and she noted "But I'd be certain, in your place, that my prospective wife was aware of all this - your past and my ideas on the whole thing - before you got down on bended knee and popped the question. You could look upon it as sort of a test of her - whether she loved *you* and not just her IDEA of you."
Olly snapped out of his pensive trance and regarded the woman feeding him ideas. "Yeah, well - thanks for that. I guess you're right; I should keep the ring and 're-use' it. Sort of a litmus test, huh?"
Hopkins sat back and smiled. "Yes, plus the fact that it's a rather beautiful piece of jewelry, and replacing it would be rather expensive.
Now, can we get back to WORK, please?"
Olly smirked at this, asked the tech how repairs were going, and dismissed him. "Fine-fine, I think I was just about to ask you what the weight of these training harnesses were."
* * * * *
2322h Local
"Okay - so this means we can use the sensors on the sneak suits in the same way as those on your harnesses," Olly decided, tired at the near endless amount of technicalities he had to settle.
Maj. Hopkins was massaging her temples as she replied. "Yes, your men will still have to wear the pressure pads underneath their suits, but patching the microcameras into the training network should save some weight."
The two officers had been working for hours settling the training schedule to allow the 'Shadows', who would be leaving soon, sufficient time to prepare for their task of eliminating the Word of Blake's few Space Defense System installations which would allow the invasion to proceed safely. With the arrangement of exercises worked out, they now turned to the logistical nightmare of providing these two platoons of 'jump infantry' with training gear that could simulate lethal injuries from targeting lasers and paint pellets.
Hpt. Kavanagh flipped through a list of vital statistics of his troops, and noticed only one problem. "Um, from the list of stock you've got available, I can suit up my entire unit...except one - Lt. Mary O'Neil."
"Yeah? We've got plenty of female suits," Red replied without looking up.
"Maybe, but none of them will fit a woman 5'11"."
"What? Geez, that's gonna be a nuisance."
"Yep, even though she's rather masculine in build, she'll still be uncomfortable wearing a man's suit."
"I'll have to check with other units tomorrow and see if anyone's got a spare."
"Fine," Olly said, and they returned to examining the lists and rosters for anything that needed attending to.
Several minutes passed, and Olly raised a point. "That seems to be it - just a matter of assigning observers. My mech pilots and suchlike will do for me, but all of McEnroe's assets will be taking part - do you think you could spare some officers to watch and referee the first set of exercises?"
There was no reply.
"Hopkins?" Olly looked up.
The major had nodded off sometime previously. She was slumped back in her chair, her head lolling over the headrest and her breathing slow and deep.
Kavanagh smiled at the sight, and stretched. 'She'll get a stiff neck if I leave her like that,' Olly thought, and silently stood. He grabbed his jacket from his chair and folded it up in a makeshift pillow, which he placed on the couch along one wall. He then crept up to Hopkins, and examined her size, build and position in the chair. Nodding agreement with some internal decision, he carefully and slowly slid his hands under her, one arm behind her shoulders, the other under her knees. After several minutes, he had Red in his grasp. With all the haste of continental drift, Olly straightened up and lifted her from the chair.
He then turned and made his way to the couch with glacial slowness. Despite Hopkins being several inches taller than him, Kavanagh was not strained to carry her; all his efforts were to making this passage as smooth and quiet for his 'cargo'. 'It's a good thing that Willy taught me Tai-Chi. I never thought I'd need to move so slowly or patiently, though,' he joked inside his head. After what seemed to be an era, Olly gently lowered the woman in his arms onto the couch. He nudged her slightly, and as she rolled onto her side, he slid his arms out from under her. Grabbing her uniform jacket from the table, he draped it over her, and brushing a stray lock of hair from her face, whispered "Thanks for the advice." Red shifted in her sleep, and moved her head closer to the back of the couch, nuzzling the soft fabric. Olly returned to his seat and finished up the last few items of work.
Half an hour later, Eva began to stir in her slumber, mumbling indistinctly. Kavanagh raised his head from the table, realizing he too had fallen asleep. As he looked over, and watched his colleague begin to show all the signs of a nightmare - a pained expression, sudden jerks of movement, and slightly panicked moans. 'Shit, if she keeps that up, she'll fall off the couch - should be in bed, anyway,' Olly thought as he stood, stretching his stiff muscles. He slipped up to the couch, and reached for her arm to gently shake her awake, when she growled "Hands offa me, you prick!" and stabbed her elbow back, catching Kavanagh smartly just below the kneecap.
He pressed his lips tightly together to keep from yelping, and hopped silently around the room as fire shot through his lower leg. Once the pain had receded, Olly, just stared it the recumbent form before him, trying to not laugh at the situation. She hadn't woken up, but her nocturnal fears seemed to have dispelled themselves. Ollwyn Kavanagh just shook his head, and stumbled off for his quarters, shaking his leg in an attempt to rid it of an ensuing numbness. |
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