The engines roared as they neared their target. Lelantos took another drink from his canteen to stead his shaking hand. To his right, the Tristainia sergeant first class he had been working with for the past year was enjoying a last smoke. A little ahead of him was a young private barfing his stomach on the deck.
"Clear the ramp! Thirty seconds! God be with you!" shouted the pilot from his perch toward the rear of the craft.
That was his cue, "Port side stead, starboard side steady. Move fast and clear those murder holes."
The men and women under Lelantos' command shifted slightly to get a better position for a running start while the sergeant gave them one last pep talk.
"There's going to be plenty of people between you. Five men is a juicy opportunity, one man is a waste of ammo," he said with conviction as an air current rocked the ship slightly.
"Keep sand out of your weapon. Keep those actions clear. I'll see you on the beach," Lelantos calmly said keeping his eyes facing forward.
The sound of the enemy defense artillery made itself known over the steady drone of the engine. A flak shot detonated nearby, the pieces of shrapnel bouncing harmlessly off the hull or raining down onto the soldiers to no ill effect. The closer they came to their destination the closer the sound of cannons and flak came.
The men made a few last second prayers as the pilot blew the whistle and the ramp began to fall. With a war cry Lelantos' soldiers stormed forth. But before the first man made it down the ramp a mass of grape shot carved his unit to pieces. The ones that survived were running under a hail of musket fire. Which though inaccurate, was still deadly.
Seeing another cannon lining up a shot on his transport he yelled, "Over the side! Over the side!" Bodily throwing the nearest soldier to him over as the cannon fired. He followed the soldier over and barely avoided get pureed by the canister round. All around him on the beach were other soldiers. Some were cut down by the withering volume of musket fire, exploded by land mines buried in the sand, or hit by the cannons closer to their objective.
The beach didn't have much cover. Only a series of wooden contraptions that stopped the dropships from landing closer to the enemy pillboxes. They were measly cover, but the Tristainians would make do. And so Lelantos dragged himself and the private he had thrown over to near nearest thing resembling cover.
Lelantos pulled the rifleless private behind the piss poor excuse for cover he had found well before a potentially fatal musket volley launched. 'Land at York,' they said. 'We gave them bad intel,' they said. They may have muzzle loaders but they're still tearing us a new one out here, Lelantos thought grumpily as he watched a nobleman try to rally his forces forward, straight into the jaws of an artillery strike. The cannons and staggered musket fire continued to rip into the landing transports destorying whole companies before they could disembark.
As he moved up another artillery strike hit. This one a little too close for comfort as it left his ears ringing and mind hazy from the blast. About ten meters in front of him, a fire mage was casting something. It backfired horrifically, killing him and the two soldiers unlucky enough to be next to him showering Lelantos in blood. Overhead a flaming troop transport went screaming by as soldiers desperately bailed out and tried to put their burning flesh out. He put the helmet that the blast knocked off his head on again and sound slowly returned to the world.
"- I said, what the hell do we do now, sir!" a corporal shouted in Lelantos' general direction. More importantly, Sergeant Roux was alive, kicking, and waving madly at him from his piece of cover.
"Sergeant Roux," Lelantos yelled over the sounds of explosions and musket fire, "move your men up!" Hearing what his commander told him Roux turned to the fighters near him. Said something Lelantos couldn't hear, then took off with ten other people up the beach.
"Sir! What's the rallying point?" asked the corporal.
"Anywhere but here!" was the best response the officer could give.
Slowly the survivors of his fifty soldier command began moving forward from cover to cover. Sometimes using the wooden barricades, other times using the blast craters of the cannon shells. All the while Lelantos and Sergeant Roux grabbed anyone and everyone that didn't have any idea what was going on and taking them up the beach. That was how they made it the one hundred meters to the palisades.
They weren't much, just some sticks in the ground at an angle so the enemy could still shoot at you. They would be easily surmountable if it weren't for the fact it would make you a sitting duck for enemy sharpshooters to pick you off. Some other soldiers had already made it to the wooden obstacle and noticed the arrival of Lelantos' company.
"Who's in charge here?" He shouted to the soldiers that were already there.
A private took one look at him and shouted back, "You are, sir!"
Great, how the hell did this happen to guy that worked in communications? he marveled mirthlessly. The answer was simple enough. He had been a soldier that worked in communications, and Fae with any kind of military experience tended to get fast tracked. Like Carmond, great guy, good with kids, but he was now the Command Sergeant Major for the division were in the JSDF he had been a sergeant. Hell, Lelantos himself had only been a Specialist a few months before only to be told, surprise, because he had military experience and magic he was now an officer. It took a good hour and a half for that to fully sink in.
Fuck it. "Sergeant Roux! Do you recognize where we are!"
"We're right where we're supposed to be, but no one else is!" was the reply. In between them one of the Tristainian regulars was desperately digging a shallow foxhole. Another soldier, a sergeant climbed over the digging regular to yell, "We're all mixed up sir! We got the left overs from Fox company, Able company, and George company!"
"Is everybody here?" Sergeant Roux bellowed looking at the assembled soldiers.
"We're still missing that Undine, Metis! She was fixing someone up who was so bad, she said he sprung a hundred leaks! She's probably gonna be all used up!"
"Get her attention!"
"Metis! Metis! Metis!" The group began shouting throwing random bits of equipment in the general direction of her and three other medics.
"Get her off the beach," Lelantos said to the Gemainian next to him. When he came back the usually mild mannered Undine was swearing up a storm. While the Germainian pulled the raging Metis to the palisade Lelantos and Roux got there bearings. Minds made up they agreed to push forward again after the troops they had gathered as many weapons and as much ammo as possible.
"Reiben," Sergeant Roux said to get the Germainian's attention, "Reiben, where's your heavy rifle?"
"Bitch tried to send me off the cliff."
"Find a replacement."
"Bangalores, we need some bangalores!"
Moments later a team of demomen were placing the pipes of explosives in the palisades base. After arming the priming charge and shoving them over to the other side they got the hell out as a plum of smoke, sand, and wood chips came from where the bangalores where.
Sergeant Roux turned to the soldiers with him shouting, "We're in business! Defilade, other side of the hole!" As the mixed Tristainian, Germainia, and Faerie forces poured forth into the breach.
There was a battle to win.
-=-=-
The invasion of Albion as a rehash of Saving Private Ryan.
