The Great Offensive

Prelude
''The year is 2556. On the rebel controlled planet of Venezia, the United Nations Space Command is back to settle old scores with the United Rebel Front. With the initial stage of the UNSC's invasion having pushed back the URF's forces considerably, a concerted offensive to turn the tide of the war is the Insurrection's only chance.''

Everybody Wants To Rule This World
March 5th, 2556

Outskirts of New Tyne, Venezia

0642 Hours

"Lieutenant Vanquinn!"

Venezian Army Lieutenant Samuel Vanquinn awoke with a start as a private from his unit came running at him, calling his name. Still drowsy from his rest during the night, in a slurred voice, Vanquinn responded, "Yeah, what is it?"

"Message for you, sir.", the private responded.

"A message? From who?"

"General Bronin."

Those simple two words piqued Vanquinn's curiosity, and he blinked several times, before finally responding, "You're sure?"

"Yes."

"Alright then, give it to me."

As the private held out a brown manila envelope, Vanquinn quickly grabbed it and tore it open, pulling out a single piece of stationary, and began reading it to himself, "All units that are currently positioned for the defense of New Tyne, prepare to make advances on the UNSC units currently approaching the city with all due speed. The second set of orders will be given to unit commanders at 1900 Hours on the night of March 5th. Signed, General Daniel Bronin, Venezian Army"

Once he had finished reading it, the Lieutenant handed it to his second in command, one Sergeant Yuri Zwintin, and said, "Pass it along to all the squad leaders, and report back to me when you are finished."

As Zwintin jumped off the armored personnel carrier and headed to carry out Vanquinn's orders, the Lieutenant said, "So we're making a daring offensive to try and take out the UNSC, but we're leaving New Tyne open for capture behind us? Do you understand it Sergeant? I don't." Zwintin continued on, assuming Vanquinn's remark was rhetorical.

30 Minutes Later

Loading 7.62mm rounds into his MA3A's magazine, Vanquinn was tapped on his shoulder, and turned around to see Sergeant Zwintin. "You finished?", he asked.

"Yes, all the orders have been received by the squad leaders, and they're making preparations to move now.", he responded.

"Good. Tell them to use this time wisely. We're not moving out until sundown. We'll lose at least half the unit if we do move in daylight, like poor Major Henderson."

"Yeah, I heard about them. Poor bastards didn't even get a chance to fight."

"Exactly. We've got too little armament to waste it in moving along in fits and jerks. Sun usually goes down at about six or seven in the evening. We'll get moving then."

"Understood. What about the Venezian Air Force."

"Them? We can only rely on them to keep the UNSC air support off of our backs, but I don't know how many will be allowed to perform CAS."

"Apparently. Do you think this'll work?

"The offensive you mean?"

"Yes."

"I have no reason to believe it won't. We might not have complete air superiority, and that will make things harder, but we can certainly win. UNSC's stretching themselves dangerously thin. And if we do win, we can bring them to the negotiating table."

"Let's hope."

"Indeed. Alright, look at this.", Vanquinn said as he laid a marked up map of the surrounding area on the hull of the APC. Motioning to two red arrows, he said, "We'll be part of one of these pincers, probably the one to the east, and help in cutting off the advance units of the UNSC's 23rd Armored Cavalry."

Pointing at a green arrow going straight into UNSC lines, he continued, "According to what I've been able to glean from other officers, the armored units will be making a drive right up the center, making it critical that we take out the advance units, so they can't seal up the breach in their lines."

"Hrm. This seems more and more like it'll work with the more you tell me."

Vanquinn smiled, and said, "Well then, let's hope your hopes come to pass. Carry on, report to me at 1830 Hours for a final meeting before we move out."

"Yessir.", Zwintin said, and he walked off to continue his duties. Vanquinn looked up as, in the distance, a group of rebel troops began belting out a badly off tune version of "When Johnny Reb Comes Marching Home". Although their singing hurt his ears, Vanquinn smiled. It wasn't just a song, it was a sign that morale was up, and, in the Lieutenant's mind, this offensive had a chance.

"...and we'll all feel gay when Johnny Reb comes marching home!"

Beginning of The End
March 5th, 2556

Outskirts of New Tyne, Venezia

1830 Hours

In the turret of his APC, Vanquinn looked down as Zwintin skidded to a halt at the foot of the vehicle, and quickly saluted. Returning his second in command's salute, Vanquinn asked, "Is everyone ready?"

"Yes sir.", Zwintin responded.

"Then let's get moving."

"Yessir! Move out!", Zwintin yelled to the rest of the unit.

"Best of luck Sergeant."

"And to you too sir."

Vanquinn smiled as he ducked into his APC, and closed the hatch behind him. Taking his seat in the vehicle, which was specially modified to act as a command APC, the Lieutenant initialized the radio, as well as various command and control systems, and prepared for war. Although he liked to act like he was ready for a fight, Vanquinn was terrified. He had not seen live fire since a year before during field exercises, and had never fought the fabled UNSC. He had wished, as a young starry eyed teen, that he did have a chance to fight them, but now, with it staring him in the face, he was scared, his hands shaking as he grabbed the radio, and said, "All units, move out."

As the APC lurched to life beneath him, Vanquinn heard someone playing the ancient ballad, "The Foggy Dew", over the radio. Although one was not supposed to use the radio for music, the Lieutenant declined to order whoever it was doing it to stop. He, at least, felt it was fitting.

As the song faded away, there was no talking amongst the unit. Aside from the roar of motors and treads, there was not a sound. They all had waited for this moment, but, now that it was staring them in the face, things were different. As he began to drift off, Vanquinn was awoken from his stupor. "Contact! Direct front!", yelled the gunner of his. Positioning his eyes to the frontal view screens, there it was: Two M12 LRV's, each carrying several troops in a larger rear, rather than the regular M41 chaingun.

"Fire!", yelled Vanquinn, and the 25mm chaingun in his APC's turret spat armor piercing rounds at the vehicles, tearing into their hulls. One vehicle exploded immediately, killing everyone inside it instantly, and the other's driver threw it into reverse. But it was too late. A flurry of rounds from the AIE-486H machine guns of the other vehicles of the unit tore into it too, ripping the passengers inside to ribbons.

As the vehicle moved closer to the destroyed 'Hogs, Vanquinn averted his eyes from the viewscreens, trying to avoid the sight of the burnt and broken bodies of the UNSC soldiers. Such a sight should have brought him joy, he felt. But it did not. The only things he felt was a need to keep moving, to avoid looking at their bodies. Overhead, even through the thick armor of the vehicle, the Lieutenant heard the scream of Venezian Air Force jets roaring above. "Good luck boys.", he whispered, as the convoy continued to move forward. Once the unit had made their way past the destroyed Warthogs, Vanquinn opened the hatch, and popped his head out, scanning the area with a pair of binoculars. Increasing the zoom on them, he spotted several Venezian Army tanks chasing down a single M808 Scorpion that bore the markings of the 23rd Armored Cavalry Brigade.

Ducking back into the APC, Vanquinn grabbed the radio. With what he had seen, he found it hard to find joy in the destruction being wrought by the offensive. And yet, he felt pride in his colony, fighting off the cronies of tyrants. And so, he spoke into it, on an open channel to his unit, "Boys, we've got the UNSC on the run. Let's keep the momentum going! For Far Isle, for Secundus, for all those butchered or left to die by the UNSC!"