Chapter Two: The Battle for Orange Star

The Battle for Orange Star was actually the bloodiest and most brutal part of the war. The Defenders had tried several attempts at moving back into this territory by stealth. But every one had been repelled with murderous fire from Violet Nova, who controlled the area. They tried shelling the seaside cities with battleships from the channel, but after only 15 minutes of bombardment the fleet was decimated by bomber and fighter squads. After a hasty retreat the Defenders simply flew air raids over every major city, to encourage the citizens that they were not yet broken, only beaten. Finally, with their options exhausted, they planned a full-scale frontal assault, in which they even planned to bomb what was left of their own cities, just to weaken the defence. This brutal part of the "Beachhead Campaign", as it had been codenamed, began on August the 14th with a small town that was a key point in the operation. Crispin Beach.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Crispin Beach: Those Quiet Times

Roy could hear the thumps of the long-range Groundpounder cannons of the battleship RSS Panderosa. His platoon of men, stuffed into the Lander with a tank division, was preparing for what they knew would be nothing short of hell.
He looked at the men around him. Many were tense, ready. But a few of them were nervous and he could tell. A few were muttering to themselves, some were pacing back and forth, and still others were looking at photos of family they had brought for encouragement. An officer approached him steadily.
"Corporal Roy Williams, I suppose?"
"Yessir", he replied anxiously.
"Your Captain would like a word up top."
"Yes sir, thank you sir, I'll go see him now."
He turned and walked up the steps to the observation room. He found his Captain loading his rifle and looking out the window. He approached him slowly and spoke.
"Sir, you wished to see me?"
"Yeah, come and have a seat."
Roy loved his Captain as all the men did. He was a casual guy and didn't really care if you saluted or called him sir, as long as you paid attention.
"Do you see that?" he said and pointed at the far beach smoking from the bombardment.
"Yes sir."
"And you know that's where we will be in about 10 minutes?"
"Yes sir."
"When we're out there, I want you to be vigilant, and stay frosty. I need every man I can get and I don't want one of my most reliable ones shot on the landing."
"Yes sir, I'll try-"
"No, you won't try… you won't try, you either will or you won't."
"Okay, then yes sir, I will."
"That's the Roy I know, now go make sure the men are prepped for me please."
"Yes sir."
He left the room with feeling tense and ecstatic. Now he couldn't wait for battle. He found the platoon waiting doing what they were before he left. He sat down on a bench and was joined by a few of his comrades.
"It's those quiet times before battle that scare you most." His friend John said.
"Yeah I know what you mean."
"So what did the Cap want?" His other friend Edward asked.
"Just told me not to get killed and make sure to do my job." Roy replied.
"Well, we all could've used that, and-"
Alarms began to sound and the intercom crackled to life.
"All men report to boarding positions, prep for combat immediately."
"Here we go." Roy said.
That's when the violent turbulence began. The Lander's frame rocked from the beach artillery attempting to repel the invaders. A few times, Roy thought for sure they would capsize before they reached the beach but they held steady. The plan was that first the tanks would roll out and take the anti-personnel rounds then infantry would follow and set up an able drop-off point for more men. As Roy waited behind a few men and a "Zipline" Class Light Tank, he prepares for what he knew was coming. The shouts of men, the cries of the wounded, and the roar of gunfire engulfed him as the ramp dropped.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Crispin Beach: The Beachhead

Roy charged onto the field after the tank. What he saw shocked him. The first wave of men, sent in before them to secure a rally point, had been decimated.
Tanks crushed by artillery were aflame and men were using them as cover. Wounded soldiers were yelling for help and crying out in pain. Those that tried crossing a large stretch of beach were slaughtered by artillery, which couldn't pinpoint the hiding places of the men. But as he remembered, he had a job to do, and ran forward behind the tank. As it reached a makeshift barricade made from heaps of metal and an assortment of things, an enemy fighter came screaming down at them guns blazing. It traced lines through the ground as it peppered the soldier in front of him and fell with four holes in his chest, and the one next to him lost his helmet as the bullet hit his forehead and splattered Roy with blood. He dove for the barricade just in time as the fighter swept by. He saw the platoon leaders gathered and crawled to them.
"What is my orders sir?!" he yelled above the noise.
An officer noticed him and replied, "What's your designation!?"
"Corporal Roy Williams! 53rd Red Sun Regiment!" Roy announced.
"Corporal Williams?!" the officer asked.
"Yeah!" he confirmed.
"Your platoon is going in with the next wave of tanks! I'd suggest finding as many of them as you can!"
"Yessir!" he said.
"I'd suggest checking the wall most of the men have gathered here, good luck!"
Roy saluted and crouched behind the wall as he began walking the length of it. He found a few men of his platoon, most mentioning that they saw so-and-so shot or blown up. He was about to quit when he saw his friend John aiding a wounded soldier.
"John! You're not dead yet!?" he joked and yelled
John looked up surprised and saw him. He waved at him to show he heard and yelled, "I'll be over in a sec, gotta help this guy, and I've got some bad news also!"
Roy leaned against the wall, waiting as John wrapped the man's leg and came to him.
"Roy, Ed is gone. I saw it myself."
He was stunned at this and just sat down, his fighting spirit gone.
"Roy we have to get our platoon together, now come on I know where a few are!"
"You go get them. I'll organize the ones here!"
"Okay!"
John sprinted off stopping here and there, to talk to men. Roy turned and went back to gather more men. When he reached near where the officers had met, he observed that there was a large crater where about 30 feet of wall had been. He recalled the men trying to cross the beach being picked off. But he had to do it. He stood up and sprinted across. A few times, stray bullets whizzed by his head, and even pegged the bloody sand under him. He barely reached the other side when artillery began to bombard them again. He gathered the remaining men and made his way back. When they got to the gap again he ordered.
"Okay, we're gonna cross in pairs! Since there are about 11 of us I'll go last!"
He pointed at two men and told them to wait for his signal. As soon as the artillery was quiet again he threw his hand forward.
"GO!"
The soldier's crossed unhindered and waited patiently once across.
Again and again they crossed.
We're making good progress, he thought. Just as he sent the last pair another fighter streaked down onto them.
"GET DOWN" he screamed, but it was too late. As the plane made its pass the soldier in front was literally torn apart by the numerous bullets. The second one was almost there but too late again. An artillery shell exploded in his path, spraying his face with shrapnel. He fell yelping, and rolling on the ground, but nothing could be done. Roy charged across with out waiting for the shelling to end again. As he ran shells exploded around him and one came so close he thought he had been hit in the leg, but continued across bullets whizzing by. He got to the other side and made his way forward to where he met John. He was waiting with 7 others and turned to greet him.
"Is this all!" he yelled.
"Yeah! Would have more but a couple got torn up crossing a gap in the barricade!"
"Admit! We need more! Counting us we have only 18 men!"
"Then that's all we're going to get, come on!" he trudged along the wall till they found a new Lander dropping off nothing but tanks.
"That's who we're going forward with!" He pointed at them.
"Well let's go then!" John urged.
The platoon made its way to cover behind the tanks as they moved forward. They were more "Zipline's", as the men called them because of their speed. The men hid behind them, and Roy climbed onto one and knocked on the hatch, being cautious since he was a sitting target. It opened and the tank commander gave him a startled look.
"What do you want!" he asked roughly.
"We're the Red Sun platoon that's giving you infantry support on you're way up sir!"
"Oh really! How many of you are there?"
Roy flushed at the group's small size.
"18 sir! Counting me!" he replied.
"Sure, well we're gonna be here till some reinforcements arrive, so why don't you get some rest with you're men along the stronger part of that wall!"
"Yes sir, thank you sir!"
He hopped off and signalled the squad to follow him over to a strongly fortified position.
"We have to wait for more men to arrive before the tanks continue up! They'll come get us when it's time so pick a good spot and get some rest!"
The men acknowledged him by dispersing and finding comfortable positions, or as comfortable as lying on a bloody beach can get, and resting their eyes. John came over to where Roy was lying and poked him.
"What."
"Roy have you seen the Captain?"
He jumped up. He realized that, no, he hadn't seen him since the Lander came in.

But the Captain said to stay vigilant and frosty.

'So that's just what I'll do' he thought. "No, but I think even if he's gone, we can still do this." Roy said aloud.
"I'm with you bud. Every step of the way." John replied and rolled over, nodding off to sleep. Roy couldn't sleep and waited there, anxious. Night began to fall, and thought that the third wave would arrive tomorrow. He began to drift into semi-consciousness and heard the wounded still moaning everywhere, along with the mingled voices of medics trying to comfort them. But these gave way as he too eventually became prey to drowsiness.