[GZG Fiction] Raid on the Wheat Fields

Following a massed MAWP and gunship assault on the current outer ring of
Krak defences in the Severns crater, troops from the OU joined with NAC
and NSL forces to flush Krak out of the southern agricultural zone ahead
of broader attacks to be led by the UNSC. This latest assault is part of
Operation Zhngs, and was part of a strategic push to remove Krak from
the southern areas of the Severns crater plain in order to create a more
secure launch point for larger allied operations.

Like most large assaults against the Krak this latest one was launched
in mid-morning when Krak vision is at its worst. The raid started with
fierce bombardment of the Krak defences followed by precision air
strikes, which weakened the Krak defensive positions. The air assault
involved over 50 MAWPS, 14 Hornet and 12 Mantis gunships. Not only did
it successfully clear and secure the southern plain, but it also led to
the demolition of a munitions factory, significant ammunition stores and
the discovery of a large biochemical plant. The current end use of the
pre-cursor chemicals and organic derivatives produced at the plant is
unknown, but it is suspected to be of significant importance to the Krak
as the site was very extensive, well defended and during the final
stages the Krak put significant effort into trying to see a large convoy
safely away.

After securing the biochemical plant, which sits just north of the most
productive of Severns agricultural precincts, the joint NAC-NSL force
continued their advance to clear the land north to the suburban
outskirts of Severns itself. This is yet another stunning success in
what has proven to be the 3 most productive months of the Martian
Theatre. Not only have allied forces pushed the Krak back to a single
stronghold in Severns, but they have also destroyed major outposts
ringing the once booming dome settlement and have now claimed all lands
up to the defensive ring marking the outer edge of the urban centre.

These advances have led to great leaps in morale on Mars, particularly
as they come hand in hand with crucial Human successes in the Sol system
that have seen no large scale Krak reinforcements arrive in close to a
Terran year. People of Mars are beginning to feel they have a
significant degree of freedom of movement, both on the planets surface
and through the solar system more broadly.

The assault was not entirely by air. An NAC Battlegroup moved across the
region both on foot and in their large wheeled military vehicles 
Paladin battletanks and Phalanx heavy APCs. Additional support was
provided by a combined arms OU taskforce, which included a
cybernetically enhanced cavalry regiment and the 3/7  a high specialised
unit that is largely made up of military robots. These ground troops saw
stiff opposition, despite benefiting from substantial aerial assets. The
intense and prolonged fighting, which was heaviest in compounds
surrounding the munitions factory and biochemical plant, was deemed
immensely successful however.

General Caxton-Moore, newly instated chief of NAC operations in the
area, declared the raid  a significant blow to the KraVak forces on
Mars. All due credit must be given to the immensely skilled soldiers who
undertook the mission with ruthless precision in extremely challenging
circumstances, but did enormously well, catching the enemy napping!

The OU were at the spearhead of the operation. They had inserted at
roughly 10am local time, backed by artillery and a fire-support group
made up of heavily modified transport UAVs and Bobcat HMLCVs (High
Mobility Light Combat Vehicles). The later are not typically seen in
main line NAC forces, but the OU ground forces had showed amazing
ingenuity in converting them; bolting on sheets of armour salvaged from
damaged Krak tanks knocked out in previous engagements. In addition, all
the auto-cannon equipped Bobcats have had grenade launchers added as
secondary armaments. Perhaps the greatest expression of the OU
resourcefulness has come in the refitting of the GMS version of the
Bobcat. Many will recall the performance and supply issues that have
dogged this scandal-ridden model. However, the OU troopers have
displayed a waste not want not attitude and have replaced the GMS launch
tubes with customised Krak auto-cannons. While they have not
successfully grafted the alien technology directly to the Bobcat they
have adapted components to create a basic form of railgun, each of which
is powered using a simple plasma charger created from a bank of infantry
plasma guns (usually used as UNSC squad support weapons it is unclear
how the OU have managed to acquire them).

Bypassing the Kraks ring of outer defences the combined force plunged
straight into the Kraks industrial heartland. Once in place, within
weapons range of the first line of major Krak industrial compounds north
of the Severns southern crater rim, the OU called in the fire mission
that unleashed the full fury of the skilfully orchestrated multi-force
assault. The OUs 3/7 continued to designate targets and co-ordinate
ground, artillery and aerial platforms throughout the morning. The
ferocity of the punishing attack pinning the Krak in place while the NAC
and CE-Cav forces moved up in support. The aim of this phase of the
attack was to cause maximum disruption and suppression with minimum
splash to the wider area, so as not to put the larger body of waiting
allied forces in danger. The CE-Cav were given the task of pacifying the
munitions factory, but when they were pushed back by hefty resistance
precision bombing runs were called in to destroy the dug-in Krak. In
turn this allowed for a major push by the NAC in the east and NSL in the
west.

Prior to being tasked to the assault force the NAC Battlegroup 
specialists in high-altitude, cold-weather warfare  was charged with
defending the power stations on Lake Holden and at the upper reaches of
the Uzboi Vallis. These power stations have been critically important
power sources for much of the Margaritifer and the lands south of the
Valles Marineris as far west as the Sinai Planum and poleward to
Nereidum Montes. Martian militias have been moved in to protect the
power stations, freeing the NAC for a major role in the latest round of
assaults on the final Krak positions.

* * *

I knew the bland overviews didnt capture much of the gritty cut and
thrust of the actual assault, but most mainstream media outlets (like
TSNN and Terran blogsheets) didnt have much of an appetite for that.
That was more the purview of the subscription services or freelance net
channels. Together they paid the bills so who was I to complain?

And I for one definitely didnt have anything to complain about. Id made
it through another breathtaking roller coaster ride with the 3/7. Id
seen some pretty audacious things in my many years as a reporter, but
for a while at least this one is securely among the top ranks. The
briefing had let us know it wouldnt be an easy task, but in all honestly
it hadnt started off any more portentously. The main thought as I
climbed aboard the VTOL that would take us to the insertion point was
how bitterly cold the wind was on my cheeks and whether it would cause
blistering or frostbite.

Even with the sun high in the sky there wasnt much extra warmth and I
could see ice on the ground in the pockets still in shadow when we
landed amongst the untended crops on the Severns plain. I had expected
more opposition, but we were a small heavily stealthed force and it
seemed that the Krak forces were finding it increasingly difficult to
effectively patrol the remaining 5000km2 area they held on Mars.

As soon as I stepped clear of the VTOL the cold whisked my breath away.
Any bare skin started to ache  to the point I almost wished I could
reboard the departing transport. I figured it must have been pretty
harsh as even the normally taciturn Zel commented on the frigid
conditions. Zel typically accepted everything thrown at him in silent
dignity, whether surviving on limited supplies or living in the most
basic of communal conditions. Nevetheless he was heard to comment Who
forgot to bride the fuckin weather god? I reckon Ive got the universes
most negative dick measurement right now.

To which Artie replied Well Id call for a penguin swarm to return you to
pythonhood, but I reckon Vidas headlights would take out an eye.

That would be because you stole my last bra to fix that stupid vehicle
mount. And if I ever find who stole my triple insulated leg warmers
there will be a murder. And dont think I wont be able to spot them-

Now, now. We have to have some fun. Besides theyre so warm and we have
to make sure our most vital organs survive, for the good of womenkind
everywhere you understand

What the-? Oh god I dont want to know do I?

Nope. The sound of a grin positively dripped from the word.

Yeah well next time the Krak ask my opinion about where to attack Ill
tell them to pick somewhere fuckin hotter shall I? Clarke broke in over
the top, signalling his desire to be on the move.

As the VTOLs disappeared from view the 3/7s professional demeanour
reasserted itself and they moved off stealthily through the wheat
fields. We reached the first compounds in just under 75 minutes steady
march. The first thing I noted was that the tox-tag Id attached to my
armour, which slotted in nicely under the rad counter, was flicking into
the orange and red. Id managed to pick up some better filters so I
couldnt actually smell anything, but the area must have reeked.

The air had grown hazier as the sun had climbed higher and wed gotten
closer to the Krak lines. On one knee, waiting with the others, my eyes
were drawn to how the weak sunlight played on the dust particles in the
air. I could have sworn there was a metallic sheen to them, rather than
the usual pinky tinge. I frowned trying to bring them into focus and
figure out what weird physical process was causing the illusion.

Clarke motioned Zel forward and the two men held a whispered
conversation.

Id like some motes in the mix.

Have you seen the texture of the atmosphere?

Yes, but we need to be sure, it's a pretty big asset to lose. We dont
have much intel about whats over that rise.

Ok. Zel settled in a rut in the field and flicked open a familiar
looking case. Zel was in charge of the 3/7s motes. I watched as he
flicked open the outer casing and the tell tale swirl rise into the air.
Almost immediately it was like a cloud formed above his head, the hazy
atmosphere concentrating as if drawn to him. The air began to shimmer as
if it were electrified. Almost as abruptly as it had begun the tiny
storm winked out and those of us in the immediate area were coated with
a fine rain of glittering dust. This close to the remaining holdings the
Krak had obviously deployed any defences still available to them, not
only jamming any medium and long distance comms but also saturating the
air with their own nano sensors. Id just watched a battle where the
opposing forces were each less than a millionth of the size of the men
around me.

Clarke looked determined and somewhat grim. He then made a series of
crisp, sharp hand signals  first he held up his right fist with one
finger extended, then he momentarily formed it into a hollow o and held
it to his eye (as if wearing a monocle), before sweeping his forearm in
a low arc and pointing over the crest. He wanted the recon team to get a
look at what was over the rise. I swallowed hard and crept forward,
keeping low.

It turned out a reconnaissance role came with the position of unit
reporter. Clarke had informed me of the additional responsibility a few
days ago, once he was happy I was up to it. Moments after that meeting,
on my way back to my bed roll, I had been ambushed  hit by a burst from
a high pressure hose which saw me land face first in the partially
frozen red mud that made up the camps pathways. I was initially stunned
and quite breathless, the excruciating cold stealing any expletives
away. I was met with a chorus of cheers however and bone shaking slaps
on the back. I had made it into the 3/7, even if only in an honorary
position.

Now I found myself flat on my belly snaking my way forward with a
terrier sized RT and Ben, who was fully recovered from the concussion
hed received during the attack on port of Pitjeva. I fed a camera over
the crest of the small rise in the fields. The RT scuttled off to our
left about 25m and deployed a small vein studded with a range of
sensors. I wasnt completely sure of the function of half of them.

The view over the rise quickly rolled into view as the camera
automatically drew itself into focus. There was a lot of Krak movement
around the compound, which looked almost postapocalypticly grim. There
was no vegetation within 250m of the walls and the bare ground was a
mosaic of semi frozen mud, slush and huge puddles. Visible over the
compound walls were arrays of old freight containers. Some of these
appeared to have been converted in to buildings, but a few with doors
open facing our way where stacked high with what I guessed were crates.

Large trenches filled with what looked like rotting waste of all manner
of descriptions made a moat like obstacle at the western end. Along the
eastern end, covering most of what was once a vehicle park, was row
after row of Krak missiles (small and large) lying in cradles on the
dirt. Krak work parties seemed to be hand stacking them in packing
crates. Although what I initially interpreted as Krak equivalents of
fork lifts may actually have been fully autonomous robots helping in the
more mundane tasks. They werent of any Terran design I recognised.

Crawling back down to where Clarke sat viewing the intel on his
flexi-sheet we saw that he was already designating a spotter team for
this site, a support group to stay with them and another two groups that
would move to the next location (and potentially beyond). He was under
the constraints of a fairly tight timetable.

Liam and Connor, bent low, threaded their way through the thin line of
bodies in position amongst the waving stalks of wheat. Again Clarke went
into a quick flurry of signals, indicating that Krak were just over the
rise and that one should stay here with a gun team, while the other left
with Clarke.

Liam and Connor were both very good at what they did. I had seen reports
showing how at different times they had each called fire down almost on
their own heads without flinching and with a minimum of error. Unusually
for most modern military units they were also brothers. Twins. It was
exceptional for brothers to be in the same regiment normally, let along
the same company. A lot of rules had been broken in this war as needs
be. Each of them had earned a place in the 3/7 so both were there. They
had mops of mousey brown hair, laughing dark brown eyes and they were a
pair of clowns who did a lot to keep the companys mood light. In my
opinion they would have made quite successful comedians if the war hadnt
intervened and sucked them into its influence before theyd really
penetrated adulthood. At the ripe old age of 22 they were four-year
veterans of the 3/7.

The pair had a quick game of rock-paper-scissors to decide who stayed
and who went on with Clarke.

* * *

It took another hour and a half for the 3/7 to get eyes on all the major
objectives theyd been given or encountered. Slowly peeling off small
teams to watch each one; including a large industrial plant that hadnt
been part of the original briefing. Intriguingly the Krak activity was
heaviest around this last production centre, which belched continuous
streams of thick steam and smoke into the atmosphere. Steady convoys of
grav traffic flowed from gates located on the northern face of the large
complex. It looked like some kind of refinery and it was only later that
we found out they produced some kind of biochemical compound that the
Krak prized.

The discovery of the extra target had caused a flurry of activity and
reorganisation, but ultimately the deadline came and went  something I
was becoming all too familiar with. There were always higher
considerations that those of us beavering away on the ground knew
nothing about. To minimise the chance of detection the very thin line
that was the 3/7, now drawn out over more than 10km, sat in a heavy
silence.

A hissed Go, go, go finally broke the tension, freeing the fire
designator teams to call in the air strikes. And with that the starters
gun had been fired for the first main thrust of Operation Zhngs. I saw
two enormous, blooming mushroom clouds growing toward the top of the
thin atmosphere long before I heard the low booms. These were just the
closest of a long salvo called down on Krak manufacturing sites and
stores across the plain. It wasnt too long after the rumble of the
bombing died away that I could hear the thrumming approach of the
gunships.

The target Ben and I were watching hadnt been on the bombing list and
rather than re-task at the last minute the powers that be had decided to
drench it in gunships, unmanned Bobcats and MAWPs instead.

Ben and I wiggled forward so we had a clear line of site on the Krak
complex again. We were lying flat on the ground looking through the
slightly bent stalks. Each of us had a palm held designator. Bens was
aimed at a large silo or tank on the southern side of a maze of
pipework. Mine was pointing to the other side of the busy area, painting
a large squarish building that seemed to be the centre of the hive like
activity  vehicles entering and exiting regularly.

I kept my head down, concentrating on keeping the designator steady as I
heard the rapidly growing whine of the missiles. I had the sensation of
a flock of something large zoom overhead and then it was if the entire
outer wall of the complex transformed in a swarm of angry bees exploding
out to meet the interlopers. Three missiles exploded in a blinding
flash, making my eyes blink, but I focused hard on keeping my hand
steady. This was old technology, but the uplinks of more modern
munitions couldnt be trusted around the saturating ECM of the Krak, so
more tried and true methods were used as a fail-safe.

Seven missiles had made it past the scatter guns, but now the
autocannons that functioned as the Kraks point defence systems chattered
into life, sounding like a buzz saw. Another four missiles fell, but
that still left three. Two thudded into Bens mark and the silo tore
itself apart, flame shooting to the sky and a cascading chain of
explosions worked its way back along the largest pipeline. One missile
bore down on my target. There was a scintillating flash and a billowing
dust cloud as the roof lifted clean off, crashing down at an angle and
adding to the tumbling rubble of the collapsing outer wall. As the dust
cleared I could see there was a large section of the front wall missing,
from about a third of the way up the original wall to its top. The back
wall was dribbling brickwork and the wall that had supported the great
hangar-like doors was completely gone. Only one wall remained resolutely
intact.

I slid my designator to a loading bay visible through the ruins. Within
a minute the survivors of another barrage had blown through the defence
systems and smacked into the new targets, spreading the destruction.

The gunships were on station now too, the MAWPs and Bobcats even risking
closer approaches despite the still active defences. The ground erupted
with cannon fire, sprinting Krak cut down between patches of cover. One
of the leaner UAV versions of the Mantis flew in over the open ground of
the complex itself and slowly spun in place emptying its cannons into
the Krak on the ground, I could see a steady stream of shell casing
dropping like rain.

A Hornet swooped overhead, firing rockets, before turning hard and
banking away to avoid a scattergun blast. As the rockets streaked
towards their target they seemed to peel apart. The glare of the
white-hot cradles of the 100s of darts each rocket contained sat in the
orange wash of the thrusting plumes caused my specs to black out spots
to protect my eyes. The view of the complex was now thick with
hypersonic darts that tore into infrastructure across the area, quite
independent of our designators now. The noise was monumental as the
chains of explosions ripped the plant apart and rocked the ground as if
we were lying on the edge of an earthquake zone.

To my amazement, and their credit, despite the hellish chaos about them
the Krak were engaging their attackers. Lines of defenders moved to
protect the south wall while others escorted convoys of vehicles away
north. The Krak even scrambled three of their asymmetric strike
skimmers. These had a K-gun as the body of one wing, twin vertically
stacked rotary railguns as the other, a roughly ball shaped cockpit and
two rear projecting engines. They were as ugly and unpleasing to the eye
as any of the Krak vehicles, but immensely powerful. The great space
grade railguns set the atmosphere on fire as they shot the large grav
accelerated solid slugs.

The light show of missiles, cannon and railgun fire  and even (what I
think was) mortar fire the Krak tried to fire directly into the MAWPs
and Bobcats dancing around the perimeter  continued for another 33
minutes before the cavalry quite literally arrived.

Ben and I had mostly been engaged with watching how things unfolded,
staying out of the way of the heavier aerial weapons, and relaying
sitreps back to Clarke via sporadic mircobursts from a small transmitter
Ben carried. Ben had also occasionally had to mop up the odd Krak
soldier who had ventured beyond the cover of the complexs walls far
enough to threaten our position. Wed slowly been joined by the rest of
first platoon, trickling in as the company command directed the platoons
to form up, one each around the major enemy assets in the 3/7s current
zone of responsibility.

Clarke and a couple of RTs arrived only minutes before the CE-Cav rode
in on their gunsleds. With the arrival of the nut crackers, as they were
known amongst the OU, the intensity of the fight stepped up a notch. A
combination of artillery, air strikes, heavy weapons carried by the
CE-Cav and the 3/7s own small arms hammered away at the Krak down in the
burning ground of the manufacturing plant. The whumps of exploding
shells overlapped in a crescendo that I could feel rattling through the
ground into my chest. The remaining handful of unmanned platforms
(roughly a dozen MAWPS and a few Bobcats) and two sections of the 3/7
also pushed down into the Krak position. The nut crackers flew over the
top; over shooting the plant to drop into an encircling position on the
far side, to cut off the Kraks exit route.

For their part, the Krak were replying with rocket-propelled grenades
and autocannon fire. They even aimed past the approaching soldiers at
our position, which they must have assumed was orchestrating the
assault. RPGs whooshed overhead and one grenade blast knocked us all
flat. Thankfully no one received anything worse than a few mild cuts,
but Clarke had quite a collection of rockery embedded in the side of his
armour, from armpit to hip.

One of the CE-Cav, one of the less modded ones, wasnt so lucky; the sled
he was riding was hit by an RPG. He seemed to be blown upwards and then
just shatter as his body was engulfed in flame, bloody bits flew outward
instead of the shrapnel I usually associated with an explosion. The
other trooper on board was blown clear, landing heavily on the slope
below our position and towards the Krak compound. His still body looked
pretty lifeless. The sled itself was fairly intact initially, but it
slewed sideways and then rammed nose first into the ground, crumping as
it impacted. Then the ammunition inside the smoking wreckage started to
cook off, exploding and making the vehicles carcass jump about as if it
were alive. A phosphorous grenade detonated spewing white-hot molten
metal on to a tinder dry shrub that immediately burst into flames.

That was my cue. I didnt really know whether I could treat a nut
cracker, but he was down and I was the closest medic. I charged down the
slope, the surface was very loose, like scree and I skidded as much as
ran to the body. Sliding the last few metres on the seat of my pants,
one leg folded under me.

The first thing I noticed was that his facemask was cracked, small
lights and mechanical things whirred noticeably underneath. I couldnt
see any wound sites beyond his obviously mutilated legs. I checked the
carotid and found a strong, though racing, pulse. So not lifeless, but
heavens only knew if that pulse was normal or not. It wouldnt be for a
pristine out of the box human, but this guy had a gun for an arm and
what looked like pistons for lower legs. If he got through this a live
hed likely have them for upper legs too as his thigh muscles had been
sliced away by the blast. There were lumps of dangling flesh hanging in
amidst ruptured armour plates. I slipped tourniquets on to the tops of
both his legs to block the blood flow. The solid flow ebbed enough I
could get field dressings on, stopping the bleeding almost completely.
Now my thoughts turned to how I would get his body to safety  luckily
the CE-trooper had landed in a shallow depression in the flow of the
land, a small rise gave a modicum of cover from the heavy flow of
bullets. Id had to stay low while I treated him, ducking the rounds I
could hear zipping by, but now I was at a loss as to how to get him
somewhere more secure. He had to be evaced soon or his chances would
evaporate.

I was looking about rather helpless, lying on my stomach, elbows under
me, looking first one way and then the next trying to figure out which
options was best. My eyes fell on an arm. This threw me; I didnt think
the wounded soldier had lost an arm, I cant have missed something like
that! I reached out and pulled it to me. Stupidly holding it up as in a
sudden panic I snapped back to the unconscious body to find it in full
compliment of its upper limbs. I was now thoroughly confused. Then it
dawned on me that this was from the other trooper whod be on the sled.
In shock I dropped the arm as if it was electrified. Just at that moment
an RT came rattling down the face of the slope coming to a stop just the
other side of the body. It just about frightened the daylights out of
me. I was already jumpy given the fire and disembodied arm and the RT
had arrived unannounced. A sharp burst of static shrilled in my ear and
then Clarkes voice coalesced among the whistles and screeches.

-RT to a controlled evac site south of our position. Over.

I tried for confirmation of the order to evac the CE-trooper by RT but
the headset comms situation was increasingly hopeless and I didn't have
any of the microburst equipment.

The RT was lying low in the dirt now, some of its legs folded back up
like wings to form the scaffolding for an impromptu stretcher. With some
tugging and huffing I got the heavy man onto the RT. Not an easy task
when I couldnt risk rising much above my belly flat position behind the
low crest. Im not sure how the RT judged I was finished, but at the
moment I thought Well thats about as good as its going to get a network
of spindly, jointed antennae like straps extended over the body and
locked it in place. Then the RT rose on its four remaining legs and
scuttled off up the hill, fire making the dust and small pebbles dance
around it. I counted two more shots hit the trooper in his already
injured legs, his body jolted with each hit, before the RT cleared the
hill top.

Now I had to get back to cover. I knew that where Id come from was
basically it. A small voice said Thats suicidal Jock to which a stronger
voice said Six of one half a dozen of another and Id rather die on the
move. I leapt up and starting bounding up the hill in great Martian
jumps. The fire around me intensified and I could feel ricocheting
pebbles cannoning into my lower legs. Just short of the top my footing
slipped. I instinctively dove forward clawing my way over the top in a
less than elegant scramble and ending up sliding on my face down into
the men on the far side. My specs and mask were knocked lose and for a
moment I breathed sand. I could feel the sting of a gravel rash on my
nose and left cheek. Spitting out dust and tiny stones I righted myself
and tried to get out of the others way.

Nice work Newsman Elie stated laconically with no hint of sarcasm.

Thanks I just nodded back, still catching my breath and rearranging my
facemask.

I noted that much of the air cover had gone, as well as half the
surviving MAWPs  who I surmised had exhausted their ammunition. All the
Bobcats were burning hulks. Down below us the Krak ground troopers had
been flushed from cover to engage the CE-Cav, who were now dirtside too.
There were a lot of Krak though and the nut crackers were in danger of
being flanked.

We need more fast air in here pronto. Clarke announced firmly into a
microburst transmitter he had pressed against his throat mike.

Within minutes a shadow fell over us, announcing the arrival of a
heavily armed Baza gunship. Named for a crested raptor from Australasia
this was the pinnacle of OU firepower. It was an enormous platform that
was equipped to cause devastation. It had a broken backline like the
Mantis, a long downward sloping body connected to a short horizontal
tail with side fin stabilisers. Three vertically mounted turbofan jet
engines made up the body of the first third of each wing, closest to the
fuselage, and provided the platforms main lift. The terminal section of
each wing was dagger-like, sharply pointed, forward facing and strongly
reminiscent of stabling blades. The sharp angled nose had a
pintle-mounted 360-degree firing chin cannon hanging from it. The Baza
also had 3 twin mounted hyper-kinetic penetrators  which could pivot
through small arcs thanks to large geared attachments to the body of the
aircraft  one set of HKP sat under each wing, close to the body of the
plane, and another sat behind its forward landing gear. Lastly, there
was a SLAM mount under the mid point of each wing and two racks, each
holding 3 heavy GMS bookended the wing span.

Rolling on my back I looked up at the hulking mass almost hovering above
us. It was at least 70m or so above us, but still seemed to dominate the
view. The force of its engines swirled dust and small stones around us
on the ground. Sparks that looked like short-lived lightening
accompanied the rumbling thunder of its cannon. I could sense rather
than hear the excitement of the 3/7 around me. They had been in a
constant firefight for over an hour and now the mammoth aircraft above
us was laying waste to the entire southern side of the Krak complex.
Showers of sparks shot in random directions from the metal pipework and
the walls crumpled, jumping in place before collapsing as the superdense
HKP rods impaled them. Rocket trails streaked into the chaos as well,
setting off the low-pitch BOOMs that rolled back up the hill and over
us. There was a growing sense of wonderment amongst the 3/7 as bullets,
long rods and red laser light stabbed the Krak and their vehicles,
jolting them apart.

An eternity later the buzz ended and the great shadow disappeared.
Amazingly the Baza was out of ammunition and was off to reload. The Krak
complex was now a scene of pure devastation. No building was intact,
most were shells, the pipes were like swiss cheese they were so poked
full with holes. A smoking line of twisted metal hulks marked the last
convoy that had tried to escape the killing ground.

We crept down the hill toward the smoking ruins, aware for the presence
of mines, claymores or trip wires. The setting sun sent long shadows out
across the cleared ground to meet us. A small flock of MAWPs had
returned to circle overhead like vultures, periodically putting a burst
of fire into any Krak-sized heat signature they detected. The low body
temperature of the Krak made them hard to detect on more tropical
worlds, but on the frigid surface of Mars they stood out clearly.

While most of the top of the wall on this southern side was gone Clarke
judged it too dangerous to assault over, Krak may well still be waiting
on the other side. Instead RTs blew three mouse holes through the 60cm
thick mud and rock wall, each hole about 10m from the next. The platoon
readied themselves by each hole, watching Clarke for the signal to
enter. He dropped his hand and as one Elie, Vida and Ben tossed through
grenades; an RT moving into the hole, gun blazing, even before the
backwash of dust had fully formed. It was soon followed by a section of
its mates before the humans finally tumbled through.

The scene on the other side was just as dire. Bodies, or at least parts
of bodies were strewn about as if a giant had danced about with abandon,
tearing the heads and limbs off alien shaped dolls. I knew my mouth was
hanging open, but it really did look like a scene from hell, brutalised
bodies of nightmarish creatures, evil vapours curling into the sky,
harsh angles, broken buildings and vehicles, blood and entrails
splattered up walls and across the ground, dripping from bits of
overhanging and smashed infrastructure.

I heard a CRACK and was immediately on the ground looking for the
source. Slugs whistled overhead and smacked into the RTs around me. I
scrambled behind a bit of fallen door and hunkered down. Artie took up
the spot in front of me, dropping his bipod in place and firing. His
body jiggled as his heavy weapon chewed through the ammo belt. While I
knew wed been cautious just in case, I was astounded that anything had
survived.

The audio dampeners had dialled down even further, distorting the
external dissonance, trying to neutralise the clanging of the slugs
whanging into the big iron doors we were behind. Now the Krak fire
sounded like angry bees flying to either side of us. When the slugs hit
the ground it sounded as if someone was slapping their palm hard against
the ground. My heart was racing, I could feel my temples pounding and it
was loud in my ears.

Artie suddenly fell backwards, onto my legs. His head was bent back,
blood gushing.

Im hit!

My first though was that he had taken a slug to the face, but looking at
his weapon I saw the smashed sights and realised the slug had hit them
instead. Arties face had been slashed by the debris of the fractured
sights, not pulverised by a slug. I couldnt help but smile with relief.
The wound was actually pretty superficial, just bleeding like a damn as
head wounds are apt to do.

I got him to wiggle back further behind cover and pulled patches and
stims from my medi-kit. I cleaned off the blood and wound some bandages
over the lacerations.

I dont think youll be winning any beauty contests, but given that was
never likely. Actually maybe when the doc fixes this up you can ask him
to help you out a bit-

Cheeky bugger. Artie gurgled through the blood in his mouth.

He looked like a bad extra from a Mummy flick, but moved back and picked
up firing, now by eye alone.

Newsman you still got that Krak pistol? Artie shouted over his shoulder
through the din.

Yeah. I called back from where I was repacking my kit. I hadnt intended
to keep the Krak handgun, but Id never tossed it either. Intending to
hand it to someone for analysis or something, I wasnt sure how many Krak
weapons wed actually had access to.

Well youd better get over here and start firing it or were going to be
neck deep in the buggers! he called only a mild tinge of panic in his
undertone.

What?! I shot forward on my knees to see a squad of Krak charging our
way, seemingly impervious to the rifle and machine gun fire peppering
them. Id experimented with the Krak handgun a little back at camp and
knew that the rate of fire could be dialled and how to effectively turn
it off and on. I pushed the small stud that activated it, steadied
myself, leaning on one knee, both hands on the grip. Taking a deep
breath I started shooting at a Krak headed directly at us. It stumbled
and fell, I wasnt sure if it was my shots or Arties or anyone elses in
the platoon, but I was thankful it was one less and moved on. The
handgun was starting to feel hot to the touch and whining incessantly.
The barrel started to glow. I knew that couldnt be good so I tried to
put a bit more space between the shots, but the Krak were still coming
our way and the situation felt desperate. Two more fell to fire and then
Artie lobbed a grenade, taking down three Krak in the one blast. That
had bought us a little time, but the circumstances were still urgent. We
were still under fire and where there were Krak in combat there was the
ever present threat of a blood rage charge.

The loud whumps of artillery fire began again. This time danger close.
Clarke had no option but to walk it almost on top of us to try and shake
us free of the last of the Krak defences. This did not have completely
the desired effect, as it seemed to drive the remaining Krak into a
frenzy. Another wave rushed from cover straight at us. An RT charged
back at them and fired three shotgun blasts at point blank range, but
only one Krak dropped. Most continued steamrolling on  though one split
off, turning back distracted by the RT, intent on dismembering it. The
RT had blades whizzing and even set off a series of shocks. In the end
the two dropped together, entangled in a gruesome embrace.

Artie had gone cyclic, he had no choice as Krak were only metres away.
It was only our combined fire that was acting like a wall to keep them
temporarily at bay. On the other side of the twisted door I could hear
Kerrys profanities and the guttural declarations of a Krak as they
wrestled in hand-to-hand. My stomach churned.

Ahhhh. Fuck you mongrel. Ugh-

 HuuMon ruszok sho sualau sho deto.

Eat-

Ka-

That-

Lu-

Cu-aghhhhh.

There was a loud thud against the wall as a body hit it.

Within seconds a Krak loomed large in front of us. Artie stood hefting
the big gun in his arms as it rattled. The explosion of bullets lighting
the small space, which seemed filled with more bullets than I could
imagine. The Krak dropped, but almost immediately we were under fire
from others very close by. Artie walked backward tapping his boot along
the bottom of the buckled door, which formed the wall or refuge, to give
him some sense of where he was as the ever-present puffs of fine red
dust was killing visibility again.

My heart leapt as another Krak appeared through the dust. With Murphys
Law of timing Arties weapon clicked empty. He smoothly swung his rifle
around, but the Krak slammed it into the wall, wrenching Arties arm from
its socket in the process and ramming him into the wall hard. Artie
screamed and slumped to the ground barely conscious, struggling to rise.
Without thinking I raised the handgun and fired catching the Krak in the
top of the head and in the thick of its neck. It stumbled forward and
caught me as it fell, coming down on top of me. It was dead, but it took
me a while to realise and I just kept firing madly as its mutilated head
ended up between my knees and its mandibles continued to chitter and
grind involuntarily.

Another shadow appeared against the light and I spun my aim to fire at
it, panic coursing through me.

Calm down Newsman. Just me. Elie said reassuringly, one hand on his
weapon the other out in front of him palm half up trying to reassure me.

I was drenched in sweat and breathing hard.

The jobs done. The nut crackers are sweeping through tidying things off
and the RTs have the immediate area secure.

Every part of me was shaking. I shoved the Krak off disgusted and pushed
myself up only to slump back on to my hands and knees gasping. I felt
violently ill. Pull it together Jock, Artie needs you. I sucked air in
hard between my teeth and clambered over to Artie who was sitting, back
against the wall, cradling his arm and moaning softly. Elie took a knee
by Arties other side.

I felt gently up the side of the shoulder. It felt mushy as if the bone
inside was turned to jelly. Feeling forward I found where the head of
the bone had really gone. Arties shoulder was definitely dislocated. The
muscles werent yet in spasm so I stood a good chance of a successful
reduction. It was risky, but it would be hours before he could get to a
field hospital. There was even fewer available VTOLs today then there
had been during my last assault with the 2/34 and we were also much
further from established friendly lines.

I slipped out a vial of sedative and a small hand scanner. I ran the
scanner up over the shoulder. It showed no breaks or arterial damage.

Artie Im gonna knock you out for a couple of minutes, just so I can get
your shoulder back in place. Ok?

Youre- ugh, shaking like ahh- leaf Newsman-

You want this for God knows how long?

Fuck- Just do it he said leaning his head back against the wall.

I injected the vial and Elie caught and cradled him as he slumped
unconscious.

Get him on the ground. Flat on his back. I said to Elie, sliding Artie
towards me.

Get your webbing belt off and slip it around his chest and then back
around your waist. If it wont reach cross thread it with his. I slipped
my own belt off and pulled it out to full length before clipping it back
on. Siting by Arties side, down by his waist, I bent the injured arm at
the elbow, so it sat up at 90 degrees and looped my belt over Artie's
forearm.

Right now just hold your ground, dont slip forward. Ok? Elie nodded.

Grasping the forearm I leant back so the belt provided traction along
the axis of the arm. Keeping the pressure steady the shoulder reduced.
It was back in. I ran the hand scanner back over the shoulder as Artie
started to stir. Getting it back in fast had minimised nerve and muscle
compression. A real doctor would have to check for shoulder instability,
but Artie would be in a lot less pain during the ride home.

As Artie came round I pushed a vial of painkillers and
anti-inflammatories into the joint.

Can you stand?

I tthhink so. Artie slurred, shaking his head to clear it.

Elie and I helped him up, a grimace creasing his features.

Now hold your arm tight against your side, with your forearm out,
pointing away from your body. Good. Now hold it there. Elie

Elie stepped into help, supporting Artie and keeping the aching shoulder
straight. I cinched four straps around Arties body to hold the arm in
place. Three went round his chest or abdomen, one below the elbow, two
above and then the last I slipped around his wrist and the top of his
leg. His arm was now securely fastened to his side. While not exactly
comfortable or flexible it would give the shoulder some support.

Ok were good to go.

If you- dont mind walkin in a straight jacket. Artie grumbled.

Hey man youre alive. You should be thankful the Newsman can shoot
straight under pressure. Elie teased.

I shivered. It had been a close run thing.

* * *

The brass seemed pretty happy overall. There were lots of congratulatory
noises and communiqus and a string of news vids singing the glory of the
assault. I think everyone was hoping that this heralded the beginning of
the final days of the Krak on Mars.

The price of the operation had been pretty high in NAC and NSL dead,
however. A half dozen OU CE-Cav had also died, but Kerry was the only
3/7 fatality. It was a sombre ride back to camp, with Kerry by our feet.

The operation also saw the most senior NAC officer to die in combat
since the Xeno War had begun. General Troughton and his entire command
group had been killed when they were caught in a Krak counter attack. It
was unusual for a General to be so close to the front, but (much to the
consternation of Command) Troughton had often gotten into the thick of
things. The tri-coloured NAC flag fluttering outside the field hospital
flew at half-mast.

Evac and treatment took all night and camp was almost silent next
morning as I sat watching the sunrise. There was a gentle breeze and a
clutch of small birds fought over food scraps on the other side of the
mess door.

With no immediate tasks to address there was a general lethargy, with
most of the 3/7 asleep. I couldnt sleep. Every time I shut my eyes the
Krak was standing there gun arm raised and my heart would palpitate. So
Id hammered out my piece on the operation and gone looking for some tea,
to calm the nerves.

I wasnt alone. Clarke sat in the far corner cleaning his weapon. Ben sat
closer, rocked back against the large trestle table that usually groaned
under the weight of the units meals. He was almost naked by Martian
standards, coveralls unbuttoned and handing down, with just his thermal
undershirt for warmth up top. He was sitting eyes closed cranking a
clockwork radio. It was mostly useless static, but neither Clarke nor I
asked him to stop. Now and again there was the odd snatch of a song
before the static reclaimed the bandwidth. Then through the hiss came
the strong clear voice of a TSNN commentator.

Back in 2194 it seemed unlikely that the KraVak's stronghold on Mars
would ever fall. But the tide turned today after the forces taking part
in the latest stage of Operation Zhngs caused Krak opposition in the
south to collapse.

A munitions factory, significant ammunition stores and a biochemical
plant were demolished during fierce fighting between the allied Human
forces and the Krak invaders.

After securing these locations, which sit just north of the most
productive of Severns agricultural precincts, the joint NAC-NSL force
continued their advance to clear the land north to the suburban
outskirts of Severns itself. This is yet another stunning success in
what has proven to be the 3 most productive months of the Martian
Theatre