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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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“By the end of the fifth day of the assault, the forces of Overlord had secured beachheads at Salinas, Staten Island NY, Rio de Janeiro, Chicago, Berlin and near Sandhurst on the island of Great Britain. The 10th FRR Marines had not been committed at this time as a whole, but elements were detached to hunt down the mercenary unit Herman’s Hermits on the North American West Coast. The 24th Dragoons had established a large area surrounding Salinas and its sister (the 23rd) had shut down all resistance in the Greater Chicago and Detroit industrial Zones.
The 555th Jump Battalion, 369th Combat Brigade and Team Banzai’s 13th Irregulars Special Ops (Pathfinders), supported by elements of Tarkin’s Raiders, was still attempting to pacify the New York City- LaGuardia spaceport area and was meeting stiff resistance from a cornered WoB Garrison. The fighting there would drag on for another three days.
At the Hilton Head assault zone, the defenders had managed to keep the attacking Lancers at bay; using the remaining field guns of the garrison to good effect. However, the attackers, consisting of First Brigade of the 151st and elements of the 151st Headquarters Bn, broke the defenders line utilizing a classic CAAN regiment assault which stunned the garrison.
The operations in China to relieve the Castle Brian was reaching fruition, as the combined efforts of Kavanagh’s Kommando, 151st Scouts and the efforts of the Striker Stars of the 151st’s bondsmen was taking its toll on the siege by the Blakists. The Castle’s defenders, at this point, only had a few days supplies left and were standing by to open the door for the column and to spend themselves making sure it got there.”
-From the book “The Retaking of Terra; the major battles of Operation
Overlord II”; Misha Auburn, New Avalon Press, 3062
Forward edge of Battle, 2.5 miles from Hilton Head (D+6 1700hrs)
Trebor strode his mech along the front, lending the firepower of his Battlemaster and that of his command group to the fights. Pulling back after one exchange against a dug in armor platoon, he attempted to call the WoB command again. Getting a clear signal, he transmitted his message again.
Within a minute, he got a response.
Trebor chuckled and responded.
Silence reigned over the link.
his voice hardened as he spoke,
Sighing, Trebor brought up a map of the area and called in to the rear command post.
Rechecking the map, Trebor responded,
Trebor considered this. Trebor thought for a moment. “Well, I did tell her the files, may as well…”. Lifting his mech’s free hand, he pushed a magnetic patch of the Lancer symbol off, revealing a Cameron Star with the number 151 on it.
Hilton Head Island, North America, (D+6, 2110hrs)
Along the ocean, a WoB sentry watched, scanning the horizon. “Adept Sgt. Romus, why are we watching the water? The fighting is on the other side of the island.”
Romus replied as he scanned with his nightvision goggles. “The Precentor is worried they might try an encirclement or something. Personally, I don’t think these mercenaries have the equipment to do it or the tactical insight.”
The sentry thought about it. “I would agree with you Sgt., but these mercenaries are supposedly some of the best and call themselves a Star League unit. But there aren’t any!”
Romus smiled as he pulled out his comm. “Hmmm… I really don’t think they are going to do any thing.” Activating the transmitter, he checked in.
Romus placed the radio down. “Just relax, son. Ain’t no one comin- holy shit!” Romus reacted as he saw the sentry’s lifeless body. Drawing his sidearm he quickly scanned the area. Seeing a moving form coming toward him, he opened up. A round slammed into the shadow and a loud ping was heard as gouts of flame spat back from two points.
The return fire practically ripped the sergeant in half. Gathering around his body, the two shadows looked at the corpse and looked quickly about. Making sure that no one was alerted, one shadow lifted a small lamp and flashed it out to sea. A minute passed and a return flash was seen along with a green flash. “Bingo” one shadow spoke as his companion quickly signaled up and down the beach. The both of them scrambled up to the edge of the beach and scanned the area behind it. Spotting a WoB Patrol vehicle the two split up and set themselves for an ambush, providing team Delta didn’t nail it first.
Delta did, as the small flashes from the beach’s edge indicated. The vehicle stopped askew and a body flopped out. A shadowy figure detached itself from the reeds at the edge and advanced on the enclosed jeep. A kick and a brief burst later, the coast was actually clear.
A half-hour later, the sound of engines came from the direction of the sea. Some forty shapes were discernable as they approached the shoreline. As the hover-vehicles beached, rear hatches opened on several and troops spilled out, heading for the upper portion of the beaches and the edge of the shoreline road. A few of the hover-tanks in the force went right to the edge of the road to use their sensors to ensure the Blakists were in the dark and back up the security squads. The command tank of the force opened as the two shadows of this stretch of shore approached the small detachment of engineers digging a bunker near the beach’s reeds. The force commander, his tanker’s helmet pushed high on his head, jumped out as the two reached his tank. Holding his hand out, he spoke. “Captain Goddall, 3/5 Cav. Good job, men; any problems?”
The shadow took his hand and shook as it removed its helmet to reveal a tired looking raven-haired woman. “Captain Sierra Friend, Charlie Legion, Tarkin’s Raiders. Why, thank you very much, Captain- we strive to please.” Sierra took a pull from a proffered canteen. “Not really, they really weren’t expecting us to circle around them so no real defenses. We did buy you some time to get ashore and set up so now it’s up to you ground pounders to put a wrench into the Blakist defenses. I, as are my troops, am tired and we are taking a brief respite before snooping again. Anything else, sir?
Goddall stood stunned for a moment. “Aaah…nope, not at all. Sierra, you and your ‘kids’ earned their pay tonight. I may need your help though- your troop’s scouting abilities are outstanding and y’all may be needed as shock troops.”
“Kinda figured. With Major Errhan’s Alpha Legion in China at the Comstar holdout and Bravo in New York, I am all you got for battle armor. Make sure you really need us please before you commit us?”
Goddall smiled. “I will take this into consideration, Sierra. I’ve no intention of squandering an asset such as your troops. Get some rest- I figure you and yours will be needed soon enough.” Sierra nodded and turned to go. “By the way, nice job in the wargames- the Spartans really didn’t know what hit them.”
Sierra smiled. “I got lucky; the Spartans came in Dumb and Stupid. They assumed that there wasn’t any armor forces near so the landing zone was safe. Stupid assumptions get you killed, or in their case, massive amounts of egg in your face. Have a day”. She turned and walked off, chuckling.
Goddall watched her leave, nodding. “Cockiness can do the same…” he mumbled to himself. “Then again she has merit in her words.” He ducked back in to the tank and made certain of the defense plans for the beachhead.
WoB defensive positions, Hilton Head [D+7 0035hrs]
Adept Charles came into the command center at a run. “Precentor! The mercenaries have broken though the main lines at the mainland bridge and they’ve landed forces in our rear area. Approximately one reinforced battalion has landed on the ocean-side shore and has set up a defensive position.”
Precentor Mulvanery turned from the library console and frowned. “How did they accomplish the landing and exactly how much has gotten through?” she demanded as she picked up her gun belt to put it on. “I need to know; we may have to bug-out if this position is done.”
Charles responded and his info was not what she wanted to hear.
“Precentor, the mercs-
“They aren’t mercenaries, Charles. At least the ones hitting our positions.”
“Huh?”
“I’ll explain later; continue”
“The attackers have landed with a reinforced battalion of infantry and hover-armor which have established a beachhead on the coast. They are currently running patrols and small raids into our rear. The main assault has stepped up operations as well; it is unclear how long we can hold both forces at bay in their respective areas.
“How bad is the attack on the mainland bridges?”
“Demi-Precentor MacCall gave an estimate of 65% effectives to hold the bridges. His triple-A has been very effective at keeping the attacker aerospace away.” Charles frowned as he said this. “This situation can’t last very long.”
Mulvanery nodded. “Very true. Pass the word to all commands- prepare for Bravo Oscar ops. I expect we have only a few hours lef-“
A communications tech called out. “Report from Area Alpha; Attacking elements have broken the lines at the bridge! Defenses are strained to the breakpoint elsewhere along the line.”
Mulvanery yelled at the tech as she sprinted to the plot board.
“Verify that!” She called up the detail map of the bridge and watched as the symbols representing the defenses move or wink out as the attacker symbols advanced. Noting the commander symbol going from green to red, she looked at the tech as he spoke
“Bridge command reports enemy armor elements have attacked them en-mass. They are evacuating at this time. Demi-Precentor MacCall is KIA. Adept-Mu Hastings has taken over and attempting to rally and stabilize the line.”
“Damn. Send to all commands- pullback to line Foxtrot and prepare for bug out. Then get me Precentor Arlington at the Savannah aerodrome. I need him on line ASAP!”
“Right away, ma’am.”
FEBA, Hilton Head Island [D+7, 0213hours]
The scout lieutenant stepped into the ‘acquired’ bunker at the bridge and waited to be acknowledged prior to approaching the command table.
“Colonel Merritt, sir; the WoB troops have stabilized their lines around the TerraSec armory and Comguard command center at the airfield. It appears they are waiting for possible dust-off.”
Merritt looked at the scout and smiled. “Well, they ain’t getting one. The aerodales of Ames’ have shut down the Savannah field and heavily damaged all of the spheroid ships there in a night raid not ten minutes ago. They ain’t going anywhere.” He grinned as he chomped on an unlit cigar. We will also have air support in the morning; they managed to hit the Blakist fighter stages and blew them up.”
“Great!” the scout exclaimed as he set his helmet down. “Now all we have to do is secure them in and keep them bus- LOOK OUT!”
Merritt dove as the scout whipped up his sidearm, firing at the nowvisible battlesuit coming from the waterside of the bunker. Rounds bouncing off, the armored trooper turned its antipersonnel SMG on the scout. Triggering a burst, the trooper killed the scout and the two marines coming to the commander’s aid. Feeling a hammer blow to the shoulder, the trooper turned to face the muzzle of a large caliber pistol right in the view-port.
“Breathe wrong and get a third eye. This thing ignores yer armor from this close” Merritt growled around his now squished cigar as several more grunts came running up and trained rifles on the trooper.
Hesitating, the trooper glanced around and noticed the many rifles pointed at it. “I yield. Allow me to pop the helmet, please.” It asked through an external speaker
Merritt nodded, indicating the trooper move slowly. The trooper reached up and removed its helm to reveal a cascade of blonde hair.
“Adept Iota-III Cassandra Clovis; squad leader, 3rd Infantry, First Brigade, Stern Resistance Division. Serial number 335-“
“Enough, Adept. Save it for the intel weenies. Since you do not carry a Mu or Rho tag, You’ll be fine; however, you do need to get out of the armor.” Merritt adjusted his cigar. “I would suggest right now be a good time.”
The adept frowned. “Unfortunately there is a problem- I am wearing very lit-“
“Little on under the armor. Figures.” Merritt backed up a bit and reached into a ruck sitting against a bunker wall. Pulling out a set of fatigues, he threw them to the prisoner. “Here; these should fit you; you’re about the size of Jackson over there,” he said as he indicated the now shrouded body of the scout. I suggest you not worry about modesty at this point”
“Agreed.” The adept began to remove the armored carapace and as she removed it, Merritt quickly realized exactly how little the adept wore underneath. In a few minutes, the adept was fully changed and led away by the appreciative, but still wary, guards. Just before she was taken away she looked at Merritt and asked a question. “What would have happened if I had a ROM designation?”
Merritt looked at her as one of the guards spoke for him. ”Shot out hand. ROM troops are too dangerous to let live in a combat environment. ‘Sides, they also don’t surrender”
“Oh.”
As the WoB adept was being led away, one of the marine officers came over to Merritt and frowned. “Sir, are you out of your tree? That was a combo of the bravest action and stoopidest stunt I have ever seen!
“What the hell possessed you?” he scolded and then added, “Sir.”
Merritt smiled weakly as he looked at the marine captain. “The truth? I forgot to remove the safety. I had meant to plug her ‘tween the eyes; the suits are notorious for a weak face plate and I kinda missed the switch…. Lucky, eh?”
The captain shook his head. “You could say that, sir. The good lord pro-“
“…Protects children, drunks and fools; I know, I know…. And that was damn foolish. But it worked. Now lets get cracking on the Blakists.
Rolyat left it to us to break them while he’s hitting Columbia with 2nd Brigade.”
WoB Command Center, Hilton Head Armory [D+7, 0615hours]
Precentor Mulvanery studied the situation map for any drastic changes. Glancing at the regional readiness map, she noticed that the United Kingdom/Europe forces were showing as red and in some cases, black. Grabbing a tech, she pointed to the status board. “What happened there- we had a full Division stationed over there. They can’t possibly be wiped out by now!
“The attackers committed approximately a Regimental Combat Team’s worth or troops in the area. As near as we can determine, our forces were led into a giant trap; not many escaped. The last known holdouts are the Academy forces and scattered level 2 formations on England itself.
There are two level 3 units intact on the Continent but nothing has been heard from them in over 4 hours- just prior to our bugout.” The tech explained. “They may have been wiped out or maybe just laying low; we can’t contact them.”
“And what of North America?”
“According to the last communications we received, the forces from Salinas were surrounded by elements of the 24th and were down to half loads in all ammo-fed weapons. The attackers have committed the Rhasalhauge Marines to the western coast to hunt down Herman’s Hermits; LaGuardia Aerospace Facilities are shut down and contested by elements of Team Banzai’s Irregulars and troops from the 555th. We have no current info on the troops near Gunnison nor the troops at Bowling Green; they were hit quite hard by fuel-air and bombs. As for the Ninth Cavalry units in Texas, they are currently out of action. Fifth Columnists have wiped out a good portion of the pilots and troops; the remainder are under fire or captured. We can expect no help from them.”
Mulvanery grimaced. “I see. Well, I think we better initiate an escape plan and try to get to the Raritan Basin. Escape ships are stationed there for emergencies; ComGuard forces never got to them so they should still be there.”
“Ma’am,” the tech said as he looked at the map. “That’s over a thousand kilometers from here. How are we to get there from here when we are surrounded?”
Here Suzanne smiled. “There is a tunnel from Fort Walker to Saint Helena island; its big enough for mechs to more two abreast and from there we haul ass north. As much as I don’t want to, we are going to have to run and run hard. We don’t have the troops to push them back, so a breakout to the tunnel and a run north is in order. We’ll be fighting delaying actions all the way but it’s all we got. Pass the word- I want all capable hands on weapons for this; we will need everyone just to break free and run.”
Command Bunker Task Force Hammer, 0745 local [D+7]
Colonel Merritt assessed the portable sitboard with a baleful eye. “Shit,” he mumbled around an unlit cigar. “I have no idea what they’re gonna do next and Rolyat wants this done post haste… Shit.” Merritt noticed a flurry of movement from the commo techs and plotters. Turning, he went toward them and listened in
“Alpha Five, this is Hotel Six Romeo, repeat over”
“Movement in Sector Four”
“Blake troops on the move, sector Five; heading north toward Ft Walker.”
“Alpha Five reports Word of Blake forces retreating toward northeast.”
“Bravo Two taking fire- heavy rifle and mg fire from east. Reports Blakist forces pulling back and north.”
Merritt quickly looked at the plot board and saw the new entries. Realization dawned on him as the picture became clearer. “Goddamn!!” he breathed as he went to the main tacradio.
As the various units reported in, he looked again at the maps. “Now if I were a tunnel, where would I be…” he mused as his eyes settled on Saint Helena island.
WoB Command Group, I-95 north near the North Carolina/Virginia border; 1530 hours, D+7
Mulvanery checked her GPS as she drove her battlemech and her remaining troops north along the superhighway. Checking the readout again, she pulled her Grasshopper off to the side and looked back. Trailing out behind her for two miles was the remains of the once proud Hilton Head Garrison. “Sword Six to Shield Two, Sitrep, over” she called over the radio
“Very Good, Two. Continue to monitor pursuit; Sword Six out.”
Mulvanery then checked a frequency and called ahead to the lead elements some ten miles ahead. “Lance Six; Sword Six. Sitrep over”
“Very well. Bypass any sniper position if possible; we can’t afford to deal with them at this time. Acknowledge”
Sighing, Mulvanery moved back into the column, heading north. The response time of the Mercenary forces had been good, but they weren’t able to cut her forces off from getting most of her command out. Two of her companies had stayed behind to slow down pursuit and buy time for the rest. And buy it they did. Her ‘last standers’ had managed to hold the mercenaries off for several hours as the remnants of the garrison got away. Now her task was to get themselves north intact and get out; hoping like hell that reinforcements had gotten word on Gibson.
TF Hammer command van, I-95 north near the Virginia/Maryland border; 2230 hours, D+7
“Sergeant, where are we?” Merritt’s aide called out as he adjusted the plotter.
“Just crossed the border about five kilometers ago, Sir” he answered as Merrit looked out the roof observation window.
“I just hate getting’ snookered” the colonel mumbled to himself. “Now I gotta chase her up the goddamn road and watch for ambush to boot! Damn it!” Climbing down from the landing, he sat at a radio console and contacted Central. “Central, this is Hotel Six, Flash traffic, over”
“Central, Hotel is currently in pursuit of elements of Hilton Head Garrison. Do not believe we can detain. Requesting assistance, over.”
It just gnawed at him to ask this, when he had the Blakists pinned without an escape. Damn.
Merritt grinned at this. “Roger, Central. Papa Oscar. Hotel Six out.” Replacing the handset, he turned to his Exec. “Get us in an overnight laager point. I need ourselves ready tomorrow and the Blakists ain’t going far; Tarkin’s Raiders has boys up ahead of them.”
Looking at a abbreviated unit command listing he noted the attachment units. “Pendragon’s Swords are detailed along the southern approaches to the Greater NYC area; with their help, we are going to catch them tomorrow. Hocum, get me the Old Man, would ya? I got an idea….”
Rolyat handed the handset back to the specialist in the communications van. “Well, Daniel; I think it will work…. Let’s hope that the Blakists oblige you.” Musing on the plan that Hammer’s commander posed, Rolyat had his aide get the other commanders in the battle group over for a quick meeting. If Merritt’s idea worked, the battle for the East Coast would be over and Overlord would be on its way to finishing off the Word of Blake defenses before any help comes. And he wanted to be there.
Now if only Wolf keeps his promise… |
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