[GZG Fiction] Operation Leopard Seal

When you say War on Mars the last thing that springs to mind is seals 
human or animal. Nevertheless the most recent step in the campaign
against the Krak saw the 3/7 absorbed in submarine warfare. For almost a
week now they have been on missions along the notorious Morava coast and
its mirror between Asher headland and Horseshoe Beach in the heart of
the Lyubarsky Badlands.

The elite personnel of the 3/7 and their RT support are as adept below
the water as they are on land. The most recent task assigned saw all
three sections of first platoon in the port of Pitjeva. This time last
week the site was still a Krak stronghold and just days ago the platoon
was in a fierce fight for control of the port, shuttleway and coastal
ridgeline on the eastern edge of the Severns crater city.

During that landmark battle, a UNSC Samakab heavy grav tank had been
damaged while in a duel with a Killjoy (the largest of the Kraks super
heavy grav tanks). The driver had attempted to make a controlled
grounding on the landward end of the breakwaters main channel, but had
failed to negotiate the challenging, often crumbling, edge and the big
tank had come to rest partially submerged.

The tank had been assumed lost when the entire port was bombed by a high
altitude dirigible bombing run. All the bombs had been set with short
fuses, so that they detonated within metres of contact with the ground.
This had obliterated nearly all the above ground infrastructure, blowing
apart all the commercial buildings, manufacturing and storage sites,
melting the shuttleway and liquefying or vaporising anything living that
was there at the time. There were no clear craters, rather great
star-shaped scorch marks decorated the jumbled mass that had once been
relatively smooth coastal plain and crater side. In many places even the
pervasive Martian regolith had been blow completely away, exposing the
hard bedrock and saprock that were normally many metres below.

Amazingly, the semi-submerged location of the tank meant it had survived
intact. Elie and Vida inspected it, expertly navigating the swirling
orange grey water. There were no personnel on board, they had escaped
unharmed mid-battle and been one of the only UNSC tank crews to survive
the clash  evacuating on a sub minutes before Artie and I had reached
the same beach.

Elie surfaced to report that The drive engines cactus and the main
weapon banks upter...

Assessment KABOOM? Clarke asked.

Yep, it aint even as much use as a charlie loada cold piss.

Charlie load? Vida been teachin you how to speak proper in front of
ladies again? Clarke grinned down at Elie.

Maybe.

Vida and Elie then spent roughly 20 minutes trying to get grav lifts
attached to the nose of the tank, rather unsuccessfully, before it was
then decided that recovery was going to prove too dangerous. So all the
salvageable weapons and sensitive equipment were stripped out and then
Elie set charges to destroy the vehicle in place; thereby denying it to
the enemy.

Despite the fact the area had been quite literally flattened by the
bombing, it was still dangerously close to Krak held territory. There
was the significant risk of a Krak sniper or some kind of counter
offensive once the 3/7s presence was known. Consequently second platoon
had been tasked with the job of securing the area. They had deployed a
ring of RTs, armed with long-range rifles, SAWs and even GMS.

Next first platoon had to oversee a UAV and RT led mine clearance of the
main port. This began under the sole surviving pier, which jutted out
into the icy waters of Xonak Dary from a rocky causeway constructed from
local materials. Clarke led the recce of the area, while Kerry, Pete and
Artie rechecked their dive gear. Elie and Vida were already in the
water, down amongst a set of stanchions that lined one side of the pier.

Elie gave a running commentary of what he could see.

"Vizs down to about half metre. Waters racin like the clappers. And its
as brown as shit, nice mahogany tone. Were gonna need to be roped in
while the RTs make tracks and all. And theyre gonna have to go flat chat
because if the crackers turn out to be passive or trip dispersers then
theyre gonna be back in our faces quick as winkin.

Arties team and the RTs were in the water within 15 minutes, but it was
a long four hour wait until the port had been exhaustively searched and
declared clear. I was helping recharge the dive sets when intel came in
that a fairly sizeable Krak ground force was approaching the crater rim
in the middle distance above our position.

After a quick consult with HQ, which was sitting back on the cruiser
again stationed just over the horizon, Clarke notified us that we were
pulling out. The major objectives had been swept and there was little
use in getting in a stand up fight for the spot now when a much larger
force would be on station within 8 hours.

Much like last time, the small transport subs were used to relay us back
to the cruiser; although in this instance they skimmed through the
sluggish waves rather than submerging. Once back on board the cruiser it
was a fairly short trip back to base.

I sat on deck hugging my knees, watching as Artie and Elie expertly
cleaned and squared away their gear. At some point the journo in me took
over and I started asking them about how theyd found themselves in the
3/7.

Artie had joined up a decade earlier, as the result of a failed coin
toss. Rather than get into a fight with his best mate over a girl theyd
decided to toss for her, best of three. Artie had lost. Hed joined up
the next day.

Before then hed never had any intention of joining the services. Even
with the Krak threat. Instead he thought his contribution would be as a
fusion generator engineer.

But watching Em go off down the street with Eddie I suddenly had the
dual desires to get away and to rip the scum sucking head off every low
life in the galaxy. The army seemed like a good place to let those new
found passions run free. His grin was infectious, though laced with
sarcasm.

Since then Ive done everything. Dogs body, frontline grunt, grease
monkey for the tanks. I did such a good job with that last one they
decided I should work with the RTs. Not just on base but in the field.
Me and Zel together, got a couple of stripes slapped on and swapped over
to the 3/7. I landed dirtside on Mars about 3 days after the Krak did.

"Mostly its been about securing this and that. Breakin in here and there
or doin a bit of soften up like the other day."

What do you think the hardest part was? I asked.

"The hardest? Well I guess being away from those you care about.

Does anything in particular stand out?

Yep. Theres two that still cut like glass. When I saw Em coming down
that aisle in her wedding dress that was pretty tough. I couldnt hate
Eddie though, hed made her really happy, ya know? But even after all
those years it still hurt it wasnt me. I came back from that trip on a
blinder. It was before Mars, I was on deployment with the NAC at Fort
Estevanico on Centaurus. Fixin tanks.

And the second? I asked quietly, his face already heavy set.

 That was when I got news from Em that Eddie had died on Procyon. Theyd
settled there after the wedding. Hed got her out on one of the last
clippers before the Krak did that big orbital strike. She got back to
her folks place in Melbourne ok, but it took her weeks to confirm Eddie
was dead. I was home on a months R&R and she came round and just
collapsed into my arms. It was real hard saying goodbye to her at the
shuttle port you know? When I got the hurry up for my Mars deployment.

She asked me to promise Id come back to her. But I couldn't. It wouldnt
have been fair. I couldnt promise that. Especially since I knew what my
new digs were. She sobbed so hard. He had tears in his eyes and a
pleading note in his voice.

For what its worth, I think you did the right thing Artie. I said a bit
helplessly, trying to sound confident. Goodbyes are rough. My wars not a
patch on yours and Ive still got two ex-wives and a bunch of
relationships that didn't even get that far.

Yeah. You did the right thing mate said Elie, clapping Artie on the
shoulder.

* * *

We lapsed into solitude and our own thoughts after that. I resumed my
perusal of the 3/7s unit history and logs. I liked to get a feel for a
unit I was with, what their little rituals and quirks were, what
motivated them. A surprising diversity of activity was captured in the
3/7s official history, though I wasnt sure that even that comprehensive
record really dealt adequately with the numerous support and special
missions they routinely participated in. More importantly I doubted that
many had heard much about them before now, I certainly hadnt and Id
tried hard when Id first got passage with the OU to get at least a top
level feel of all their major military components. Colonel Baxter had
certainly been right to call the unit a "Silent Service."

It seemed that early on in the Xeno War the 3/7s composite ability had
been used to circumvent Krak defences and deliver much needed supplies
to besieged forces on planets like Douala. In a 25 month period through
2186-2187 they had supported guerrilla forces, rescued military space
crews marooned after clashes with the Krak, landed and extracted
surveillance teams in the rim worlds and acted as forward reconnaissance
 theyd even played a significant role on Rheinhold. Their roles were
based around hit-and-run attacks, attrition warfare and surgical strikes
on specific targets. They had fought defensively, but their small size
and heavy dependence on a high ratio of RTs meant they were not well
suited to prolonged exposure in a sustained defensive posture.

The 3/7 had an exceptionally high turnover rate, particularly during the
heights of each Solar War and again in the Xeno War; with most being
invalided out or killed. It was a completely voluntary force that was
made of troops recommended from other services. In peacetime, or perhaps
more correctly lax time, even such an endorsement from a CO was not
sufficient and all had to pass stringent testing before admittance 
physical, mental and psychological. This approach had been relaxed
during the peak or war, like now, but even then unit members were chosen
for their work ethic and attention to detail. All were highly skilled
militarily, technologically and mechanically. Most were also of less
than conventional military personalities, discipline was more casual and
they were often strong willed or independent characters. While they
received a nice remuneration, from what I could see most actually stayed
for the challenges that life in the unit presented them.

Across the generations captured in the archives it was clear the members
of the 3/7 were always aware that personal error jeopardized everyone.
They were co-dependent for survival and all wanted to remain worthy of
the trust others bestowed in them. No one wanted to be a source of
disappointment or dishonour. It could be said that this was true of
every unit Id ever travelled with, but it had an extra edge with the
3/7; like the difference between that of a kitchen knife and a
professional butchers.

The size of the unit meant that most of the entries in the unit logs had
a personal feel. They were often narrowly focused on "find em and shoot
em" engagements. There were no grand overview documents,
historiographies. This well reflected the highly personal experience
that serving with the 3/7 provided across all ranks. The accounts were
filled with the memories of the smell of oils, lubricants, bodily
fluids; of the pounding concussion of explosions; the controlled chaos
of insertion operations and the adrenaline rushes of verification of
destruction missions all carried out far into enemy held space. Many
emphasised the atmosphere that pervaded 3/7 actions  from the talking in
whispers and the need to wear socks over your boots on station or
submarine missions to reduce unnecessary noise, through to the endless
waiting and boredom of everyday life in cramped quarters on fast FTL
transports between operations. Nearly every 3/7 mission had some form of
strategic (or even historic) significance, though the sense from those
giving testament in the logs was that they were there to conduct
unrestricted warfare against the enemy and they had little patience for
anything else.

An exemplary illustration of this attitude of resourcefulness and
courage is the 2187 strike on the Krak occupied launch station orbiting
the OU held moon of Baroona. Eight volunteers were chosen for the
mission by pulling names from a helmet	others in the unit offered these
lucky winners upwards of 3 months pay, it appears everyone in the unit
wanted to be the first to take out a Krak threatening OU soil. They used
two converted sleeper capsules to insert the 8 soldiers and 4 RTs onto
the station. They not only successfully set charges that destroyed the
facility, but the small Krak fleet on station at the time was also
severely damaged. While details are sketchy the group did encounter Krak
directly while on board and are perhaps amongst the first humans ever to
successful defeat the alien warriors in a close quarters encounter. One
of the corporals on the mission even returned with a chipped Krak
power-axe, which he apparently wrenched free of a circuit board during
the melee. He is recorded as having carried it into combat for the next
five years until his death in a battle on Denebola Prime against a joint
Krak-Phalon force. It now has pride of place in each mess the 3/7
inhabits.

The 3/7 was formed in the early 2040s, even before the signing of the
Wellington Convention and the subsequent foundation of the OU in 2050.
Looking over its 155-year history the 3/7 has consistently featured as
one of the most heavily cited units in the OU. In total it has received
over 300 decorations, 12 unit citations and 23 members have received the
OU star, which replaced the Victoria Cross (VC) as the highest military
honour across all the member nations when the OU formed  2 VC had been
awarded to soldiers in the 3/7 prior to 2050. Eleven members have been
awarded the OU star with bar, indicating they have received the medal
twice; Sergeant Harry Kipp died in the attack that posthumously earned
him the star with double bar; and one serving member has a star with
triple bar.

Yet for all this if you asked a person on the street back on Earth, or
throughout the OU, I doubt you would find someone who could name the
unit let alone a member. This may seem a monumental oversight, but it is
likely due to the very nature of the unit itself. It has always been
relatively small and secretive. Moreover, they are not the kind to blow
their own trumpet when back amongst civilian society, or indeed
anywhere. They are not superhuman, and do not consider themselves so,
nor do they reckon they are endowed with some preternatural propensity
for heroism. They are just average, hard working, well trained, well
armed.

Were not particularly brave and were certainly not bloody heroes, Elie
explained to me after the attack on the port of Pitjeva were just doing
what anyone would do given half a chance and the right kit.