RE: [FH] Breaking News - Chronicle of Operation Colossus 4-of-6

Phan Tau Devastated

We limped into a repair centre, Jose working his magic to get us that
far. The dark clouds had brought slushy rain, which made the battle torn
plain slippery and treacherous. Being short one wheel made it all the
worse. When a mechanic finally got his eyes on our tank he said the
damage to the wheel supports meant it'd take a few days to get the tank
right again. Normally I think Irshad would've asked after a replacement
tank, to get us moving fast, but with the carnage of the last fortnight
spares of anything were running low and I think he thought we needed a
little rest after what we'd seen. 

I left the boys restocking and rebuilding and scouted out a shower and
some good live feeds. By a stroke of luck I ran intoYoshi Sakai in the
news tent. I must have looked a sight as he clucked like an old hen and
immediately took me under his wing. It's not for nothing the old horse
is known as a miracle worker. I don't know where he got it from, but
within the hour he'd cooked up a stir fry, which tasted heavenly after
the last few days of chem-heated reconstituted rations, and I was back
in the news tent relaxing with a full stomach and a glass of whisky.
Sakai approved of the colour that was returning to my cheeks. I found
myself sitting in a pre-fab tent, in the middle of a warzone, alien
invaders a metaphorical stone throw away; young men and women in
uniforms with guns bustled to and fro; mechanics worked across the way
on dead truck engines, busted tanks and VTOL hoses; Euri's scavenged
mining bits to hammer onto their ugly combat vehicles, in hope that
would provide extra protection; ambulances ferried bloodied bodies; a
dull roar of activity. That would seem surreal to many, but sitting
there drink in hand with Sakai it seemed like so many other tents I'd
been in during the TSW a life time ago. There was some tension, but it
was negligible compared to what I had felt most of the day. I eased back
into the canvas of the chair and watched the drama play out on the
holo's dominating the centre of the tent. 

At first I concentrated on the replays and discussions of the conflict
on and around Lasalle Plains. Seeing how the Euri's under General Liu
had capitalised on the small opening we'd made, I came to appreciate why
the General had prevailed so easily in Nagisa back in 2177. I was
commenting to that effect to Sakai when action around the main
projection caught our attention and drew us in. 

Over three days of fighting, the Europian and IC divisions north of
Ryótsu and Phan Tau had been slowly forced back. They were now holding
the rocky hill line marking the northern edge of their defence of the
corridor to Kal. If that line were broken the headquarters to the south,
in Kal, would be badly mauled, the flatter land there bereft of any
natural defences. The Krak obviously saw that too as they threw wave
after wave against the Eurpoian line. In response General Joigny had
moved in power armour from the Ferrara, Pays de la Loire and
Thessaloniki divisions. The big flat topped suits with their over-sized
spherical shoulder joints looking like slightly comical caricatures of
padded groundballers. There was nothing comical about what they achieved
though, turning the tide and pushing the Kraks back off the hills.
Behind them the semi-vacated positions were being secured by IC
infantry, but at enormous cost. The casualty count was ticking over in
the corner of the holo-arena with sickening rapidity. It was running
like the speedometer on a racing-pod not the usual stocatto, few-a-day
counts we had become accustomed to in the last two centuries of
high-tech war. 

I picked up a slave-fed on my HUD and zoomed in to an area that had just
been cleared. The down-slope of the hill was striated with hastily
constructed firing emplacements. Indonesian troops in partial armour
filthy with smoke, ash, brick red mud and mashed Martian grass were
building hasty defences. Plasti-sealed parcels of fast setting gel
surrounded and topped by sand bags, the age-old reliable fallback. The
work was hard going, not only for the lifting and pelting rain, but for
the fire that still sporadically tore into them. Their frantic dodging
and dropping for cover churned up the ground even worse and necessitated
the dragging of grimmy fingers over mud caked visors just so they could
see.

Tracking back along the incoming fire I found the power armour clearing
the adjacent hills, pushing the Krak back over the crests. I realised
the fire wasn't really aimed at the IC for now, just spilling over from
this clash. Mostly the Europians were opting for assaults via short
range firefights, but the occasional squad would launch itself forward
sliding through the cloying mud into combat with small units of frenzied
aliens. On the whole such actions saw the Euro's clear another few
metres, but it wasn't all their way and suits with missing limbs and
smashed helmets were adding to the treacherous footing.  

I panned back to the first hill where the IC were still shoring up their
defences. You could see why the Indonesians were making the bunkers,
they needed to secure the location and get some place they could fire
from, give the PA some real support. The cost was equally obvious as,
knots of bodies, mostly human, were scattered thickly about. One mortar
team in particular caught my eye. They were about 5 metres short of a
sturdy looking dug-out. Four of them had been cut up fairly badly by
whatever munitions had ended their run, a grenade I guessed. Their
bodies lay at odd angles, bits of bone and muscle obvious at the breaks.
The other two team members were splayed face down as if they had been
diving for cover when they fell. The mortars themselves looked largely
untouched having rolled a small way before being caught by small rocks.
They now acted as a small dam for red rivulets, mixtures of muddy rain
water and blood, snaking down that patch of slope. 

It wasn't long after that the coverage started to drop out. At first it
was a flickering in the image and then complete losses for increasingly
long periods. The Krak were damn good at blocking our comms. I was
pretty sure we weren't as good at breaking up their's. We hadn't seen it
as badly on Lasalle as we'd been focused on things in our immediate
area. Irshad had been zoomed in on the patch we could detect with our
own sensors; the tank's own AI doing the holo-projection calcs for us.
Fuzziness on the edge of the picture and the lack of extrapolation had
been the only hint of problems with comms at higher levels. Thankfully
that hadn't been crucial that time around. This time though it was our
only link to the action so the cut was beginning to aggravate. A young
tech, blonde, confident and maybe nineteen declared he cleared an audio
channel, but that would be the best we could hope for. It was
frustrating having to listen rather than watch, being fixed to the one
thread rather than wandering off into the corner of the image that
interested you most. Then for a while it became unsettling as my
imagination filled in what my eyes couldn't see. I marvelled at all
those people who had listened their way through much of the wars of the
twentieth century, caught between the week old ignorance of the news
service of the century before and the immediacy of the reporting that
would follow in the century plus after. How had they tolerated being on
the edge without really being immersed? Guess the old saying is true,
about not missing what you never had.

Sakai and I commentated our way through the afternoon, mellowing on
coffee and the last of his whisky. My watch said it was about18:00 MMT
when even the audio lines started dropping out. The reports that were
making it through suggested the Europians were finding the going a
little easier now, the Kraks in smaller pockets. These reports had a
relieved, even proud tone. Then they became more broken and panicked as
the senders realised the implications of an opposition that was
apparently just melting away. The line squealed with static around 18:13
when the first Krak nuke was dropped. I could only imagine the bright
flashes that must have accompanied each warhead, but the screeching of
the audio channel affected our nerves like a match to raw skin. Beyond
the initial sick feeling and dislocation at the fact the monsters had
actually used nukes, killed 1000s just like that, we each started
evaluating what it really meant for our survival. Luckily for us these
were tactical nukes, and we were on the upwind end of the weather. We
wouldn't have to personally worry about radioactive fallout, just the
strategic fallout of the loss of seven divisions and the contamination
of our reserves and command posts in the east. The weather helped a lot.
The rain brought airborne material down quickly and washed a lot of it
clear of the area, though I wouldn't want to eat anything from the
Himera Delta for a long long time to come. It was a mighty blow however,
the eastern armies were now in severe threat of being overrun by any
Krak attack that might flow through after the blasts.

Our worst fairs were confirmed when General Laterino of Kal command
finally broke through the static. The line still crackled horribly and I
don't think a single sentence got through intact. Nevertheless we pieced
together the grim events he was witnessing. The alien armour had
reappeared from what ever hidey holes they'd withdrawn to while the
nukes flew; and more streamed in from the sea north of Phan Tau. He had
decided to take as many sealed units (I presume he meant vehicles and
power armour) as he could and move up to block the coastal road from Kal
to Phan Tau. He also reported that there were few if any survivors to be
found. In the 40km he had already covered the only obstacles had found
were charred remains and advancing Krak. In all he'd found one human
tank unit that was still intact enough to be actively defending their
position. 

The theatre command sent UAVs over Laterino's position so that they
could judge the situation in preparation for the dispatch of armed
drones. The recon was useless. The combination of high EM environment,
atrocious weather and alien jamming meant the UAVs went silent quickly.
I'm not even sure we got them back. Manned fighters had a slightly
better run. We heard five fighters were sent to sweep the area. The poor
visibility forced them in low. One was lost to a sheer cliff face that
loomed up out of the clouds and lightning; another was lost to Krak
anti-air; a third to nervous friendly anti-air. The other two couldn't
cut through the static to report until they were back on the ground, one
missing a large chunk from a central wing panel. They painted an
apocalyptic picture of near pitch black landscapes, low and active
thunderheads, sheeting rain, advancing Krak sweeping down from the north
and northeast. Against this was Laterino on the east flank of a crazy
mix of IFed, Europian, IC, and Japanese armour, spread like a pencil
thin line from Ryótsu to Kal. There were even some OU heavy grav tanks
in Laterino's personal command, those smooth profile ones with the
tapered rear lifting wing.

The news of Laterino's advance deteriorated through the night. He was
against heavier and heavier alien assaults and it was unlikely he would
hold much longer. There was word of a massive airlift of reserves to
secure Kal and back-up Laterino, but no-one knew how much voracity could
be associated with something that may well be the murmurings of
someone's blind hope. In the end it was confirmed that the airlift had
taken place and that they had arrived in time to secure Kal and contain
the Krak offensive there. An ashen faced Major also conveyed that the
reserves had arrived too late for Laterino, whose command had been
overrun in mid-report. The General had been advising command of the fate
of anyone lost to the Krak. The Major spared us the details, but my
minds eye returned to Lasalle and what I had witnessed there. I felt the
urge to leave then, to get some fresh air, try and exorcise the images
with a light jog. 

When I finally wandered back into the tent in the early hours of the
17th of January someone had managed to re-establish a fairly clear audio
feed and there was even the odd scratchy projection to accompany it.
Sakai explained we were watching an AI reconstruction of airship and
drone scans. While the airborne reserves had been reinforcing Kal there
had been a major Krak break through southwest of Phan Tau. The
Indonesians had made retaking the area the first priority for their
still-mobilizing reserves. In a herculean effort they had covered the
intervening 60 km in five hours, largely on foot and through torrential
rain and hazardous terrain. They had apparently managed this unnoticed
as the Krak did not repsond to their flanking attack until it was well
underway. Initial pushes across the Krak columns cut off pockets which
were disposed off via artillery strikes. These were the most successful
strikes of the conflict so far. Some savant amongst the Indonesians had
hit upon an idea for overcoming the comms blocks, at least in the dark.
They used series of coloured lights to coordinate and direct the fire.
It put the designating units under direct threat, but given the
alternatives none seemed to shy away from the potential sacrifice. Once
the IC had reinforced the line and had time to fully assess the field
they reported over 400 Krak tanks, 3200 power armour and 53 alien
fighters destroyed by artillery and missile fire on the night of the
16th/17th of January. This was in addition to the 349 tanks and 179
fighters reported as kills by the L'Astromarine.

In the following days, the Krak forces continued pushing through Phan
Tau, Ojika Jima onto the northern outskirts of Kal. From there they
could shell the eastern command posts and our reserves along the roads
to Landon. The Krak onslaught continued on down the coast and between
the 19th and 21st they overran not only Kal but much of Yokaichi and
Tsuru too. Initially the human forces in and around the southern
Japanese settlements were protected from Krak aerial attacks by a
protective umbrella of almost 200 ZAM37 launchers. Then the advancing
alien troops wrought havoc amongst the supply lines and the missile
launchers ran dry. Soon after, the city's resistance crumbled in the
face of intensive bombing and grav-assisted Krak troop drops.

By January 22 the alien forces had destroyed all the local defence
forces. The southernmost suburbs of Ojika Jima, Yokaichi and Tsuru were
only holding out because of the committed resistance of remnant IFed and
Euri units. The two groups withstanding the heavy pounding by artillery
and ground attack craft with equal tenacity despite their contrasting
attitudes and styles. 

The Euri's had a dark humour and appeared quite resigned to their
position amongst the rubble. Their padded jackets taking on that
curiously cherry-coloured tinge all Euri jackets go on Mars, the local
dusts and mud mixing into and staining the weave. As a result of which,
even the Euri's refer to themselves as Reds, a play on the name given to
the original Soviet Euro-asian Communist Empire by their western
opponents. I was told later by an Indian media representative, after I'd
returned to Nirgal, that the 'Reds' joke wasn't particularly appreciated
amongst the Euri political officers. He went on with a chuckle to point
out there were far fewer of those these days though, as their high
peaked caps attracted a lot of Krak fire.

There was less rumbling laughter amongst the IFeds, and more overt
religion, but no less humour, acceptance or conviction. The IFed
clamshell armour kept its form and colour a lot better than the Euri
kit, and their rifles were usually in better condition too. Moreover,
whereas many Euri's spent their 'quiet hours' singing and making the
most of any liquor they could scrounge; the IFeds regaled each other
with stories of heroes from centuries past or played hand-made games on
maps drawn in the dirt. While I was wrapping up my Arda reports in
Nirgal I sort out IFed reporters for their take on the campaign. It was
during one of these discussions that a correspondent from the Al'Jornaan
News Service recounted one of the most hopeful events of the war. After
Tsuru was encircled the IFed forces attempted a coordinated withdrawal.
Unfortunately just as they were clearing the edge of the city the
operation ran into a convoy of Krak reinforcements (the leading alien
units deciding to bypass the cities and push down the Yokaichi corridor
days before). During the ensuing confusion an IFed squad was cut-off and
left stranded back within the city walls. Their comms and much of their
nav equipment had been lost when they'd encountered the convoy, so they
were running blind. They soon realised they were surrounded and their
CO, Mulazim Thunayyan, instructed them to prepare for a last stand on
what remained of the roof of the local suburban police station (the
station's ammo lockers used to supplemented their own limited supplies).
In the next five hours they did not get more than two minutes continuous
break, their rifles ran so hot they could track the glowing mark of the
bullet as it flew down the barrel. Thunayyan had given sit-reps every
quarter hour, describing their location, the number of their opponents
and the size of their ammunition stocks. He had not received a single
reply, the channels as dead as most under Krak jamming. He had kept
reporting for his troop's morale, to give them the hope of rescue, not
b!
 ecause h
e expected a response. His troops had realised his ruse early on, but
appreciated the gesture. With their situation increasingly desperate
they detected the deep vibration that signified the approach of VTOLs.
Thunayyan ordered that their two remaining rockets be broken out and
prepared. Then he recognised the silhouettes and shock stilled his hand.
A New Israeli troop carrier settled on the far end of the roof. A hard
suited NI load sergeant waved them on board as two NI gunships circled
overhead spraying the Krak in neighbouring buildings. As Thunayyan
stammered out his thanks, the pilot welcomed him aboard as one man of
the book to another. The Al'Jornaan correspondent and I agreed that acts
like that suggested that we may have finally matured to the point we can
work together long enough to overcome the Krak invasion forces.

<Continued in Part Five>