[FH] Breaking News - Chronicle of Operation Colossus 2-of-6

Road to Habb al Tal

I expected to have a few days in Nirgal, but we actually rolled out the next
day before first light. I was glad to be moving, but would've appreciated the
time to file some prep stories on the local mood first. War zones are never
convenient, however.

Our regimental convoy rolled overland using the corridors northeast from
Nirgal through Jebri to Habb al Tal. Strips on either side of the corridors
were heavily cut up, the red Martian earth showing through the wheel tracks
left by hundreds of vehicles which had passed this way before us. Beyond those
immediate scars and the long line of vehicles
stretching ahead and behind us, the rolling view of yellow-green Martian
scrub grass stretched to the horizon with little to break the monotony. The
crew of the tank (Ben, Irshad and Todd) amused themselves with cards and LAN
duels for much of the way, with Jose driving. Eventually though they turned to
gossip about the war. "Like the granddad and kid who walked from the mines
south of Pikalevo, the old guy screaming the kid mute. All smeared up and
looking like they're chased by demons. They'd found their family gutted by the
SAMs" There was a communal shaking of heads before Todd commented "The docs
say the old fellow will most likely be sedated for the rest of his life, mind
gone and lungs all torn up by exposure and the mine dust. He'll be spitting
blood until he's six foot under." Another pause before Ben, the eternal
optimist noted "They say the kid seems to be ok. He's got Mars in his blood
that one." I presumed that meant he's one of those hardy urchins engineered to
find life on Mars a lot easier than us Terran standards. The boys joked around
a little, but the general fear was still there. Through out history people
have always cast a dim light on the enemy, but there is no need to demonise
the opposition in this war, they really are monsters. I couldn't help but
sneak a glance at the back wall, where some larrikin, a lover of classic
movies, had pinned a flat from a "Predator" movie to the wall with a dart.
Uncannily close resemblance in my opinion, as if the director was trying to
subtly let us in on the secret.

As we sat to the south of Vinogradov waiting our turn to refuel, I turned to
musing about our final destination. Wars have always involved dealing with
innovation, getting used to new tactics and new ideas. Over the last century,
the discovery of FTL and the related breakthroughs in the field of gravity
control and true quantum computing have caused some
of the largest shake-ups in the execution of military confrontations.
Still many forces hadn't completely embraced these technologies. While the OU
had grav as standard, here I was trundling across Mars in a wheeled tank. As
you can imagine that was throwing up some thorny issues. For one where would
we end up? Would it be better to cut the Krak off or try and shift them from
their initial footholds and push them back off planet? The alien forces
already held Jalal at Jamsah, Middleton, Osuga and much of Severns. Normally
forcing their backs to the ocean would be a good thing, keeping them penned
in, but in this conflict it was no advantage. The big Krak grav tanks meant
that you could push all you like and you'd just end up taking the battle out
onto the water. If you kept pushing you could shove them all the way across
the northern sea and just end up back on land on the other side of the planet.
Not a great situation to be in. Our commanders obviously knew what they were
after though and we were soon committed to the line in the Arda Valles. I was
getting a ring side seat for one of the biggest military operations in
history.

The first shots

I didn't have the most comprehensive view of the conflict, spending my time in
the back seat so I wouldn't be in the way (thereby hopefully increasing our
chances of making it through this shebang in one piece). Nevertheless I'll do
my best to outline what happened around us in the Arda theatre.

We spent much of the morning of the 7th of January sitting in an impromptu
camp on the southern lip of the Arda Valles. I tried visiting with
neighbouring crews, but the increasingly chill winds and sporadic shelling of
our line by Krak artillery meant that most were concerned with keeping
buttoned up, warm and ready to scoot if need be. More artillery bombardment
stretched through the afternoon and into the morning, killing a few tanks but
really only wearing down our nerves. Eventually though a small degree of
relief and retaliation came when
VTOL-borne commandos destroyed the Krak's main local ammo dump. This
caused a brief lull and was welcome respite for those of us up front. It also
gave the engineers a little time to sure up the lines of fortifications now
lining the southern side of the Valles.

By dawn of the 9th the lull was well and truly over, with both sides
bombarding the forward lines. Fighters were also being used to attack the
forward most units, though they were increasingly caught up in long range
dogfights amongst themselves. At least that meant they weren't dropping DFO on
us! Still the morning status reports showed the Krak
aerial raids had already knocked out several of our anti-air positions,
as well as more tank and artillery than we could really afford so early on.

By the end of the Operation Colossus over 1.8 million human troops would be
committed to the battle and estimates at the Krak forces were as high as a
million. We didn't realise it would be such a large fight as we sat there
through the 9th. An early hint may have been a noon briefing, which showed
that in our area alone there were 3 divisions of 9 brigades, 5 of which were
armoured, with three reserve brigades five kilometres south and another
division on the ridge behind that. Four more infantry divisions were on the
eastern edge of Vinvogradov, an infantry and two armored divisions on
Vinvogradov's northern flank, and three more armored divisions on the
plateau's western edge covering the start of the corridor down to Pikalevo. In
addition, a reinforced brigade (with 200 tanks) under Colonel Rokossovsky was
deployed on the top of the plateau with orders to stop any forces which may
try to attack down from Pikalevo and along Vinvogradov's southern edge.
Overall, we had over 190,000 troops and 2400 tanks in the southern Arda,
backed by artillery. An intel plot showed 7 Krak divisions, five armoured and
two foot arrayed on the northern rim of the Valles, directly across from our
position. Their arrangement had their armour sitting back at strategic depths,
providing dynamic defensive cover, whilst their foot troops were to the fore,
dogging us with aggressive forays across the Valles. For now though there was
relatively little real fighting in our sector, though reports were filtering
in of much stiffer clashes to the north around Shevchenko, Severns and San
Juan.

In fact from our perspective little happened through until late evening of the
9th, when we got word that Krak air strikes had destroyed two thirds of the
RNACAF VR Repeaters. VR fighters were to play little further role in the
ensuing warfare.

At midnight we got word that a minor Krak force had tried to capture the water
plant at the old mining camp 10 kilometres to the east. Several Krak grav
tanks were also reported to have been sunk in a naval battle off Al Jamsah.
That was greeted with loud cheers and hand slapping. By morning our elation
was dispersed however, as we were greeted with the first waves of Krak power
armour advancing on our position under the cover of creeping artillery fire.
In response, we were told to advance and somewhat to our amazement found
ourselves quickly rolling over the northern lip of the Valles and pushing up
onto the plains behind. Whether as a result of our successes or because of
equally large alien reversals elsewhere, the Krak command apparently abandoned
hopes of a simple ground attack, and began a renewed and intensified shelling
of the human forces instead.

The waters of Kolyma More

The afternoon of the 10th and much of the 11th passed in this way, we were
told to hold fast while the Euri's and Japanese carried out a series of bloody
assaults. The body count was pretty sickening, but you could see the boys in
our tank itching to get moving and out from under the Krak artillery. The
monotony was eventually broken when Ben managed to hook into some live drone
feeds of fierce fighting out on the waters of the Kolyma More and Xonak
Daryâ. For those more accustomed to tanks on land and boats at sea these
battles were a weird mix of grav tanks and conventional naval vessels. Monster
Krak MBTs mixing it up with local hover skiffs and larger, sharp angled
corvettes and destroyers from the Europian, Anglian and Eurasian Martian
Navies, normally stationed in the ports along the edge of the Great Northern
Sea. The conflict in the Kolyma More is probably best described as a swirling
maelstrom, shifting and circling. I was getting seasick watching the vessels
pitching around, as if they were dogfighting on the water's surface. It was
only mildly better watching the missile approaches; I started every time the
clouds of pellets in the PDS shredded anything getting close to the navy
ships. The fight eventually spiralled out into the deeper open water where the
dedicated nature of the bigger naval vessels finally came to the fore. With
room to submerge easily, if needed, they could use the watery depths as
temporary refuge and stalking cover. The deeper water also worked to sharpen
Krak losses as damaged tanks were quickly sucked into the surging and frigid
water. Ultimately the Krak broke off, withdrawing back to shore.

The action on the Xonak Daryâ was of a very different nature, with Krak tanks
chasing off small amphibious landing craft which had been resupplying Severns.
The chase was a tense and bloody one; there was even a couple of boarding
actions. Aliens in combat or light power armour making impossibly long leaps
from speeding tanks or VTOLs to the rear human boats. The prayers and
exhortations were anything but silent as we crowded around the comms
projection, the hud vistas too scratchy to watch for long. Hand to hand is
never pretty, but on the back of those little boats it seemed even more
treacherous. Bodies alive and dead, human and alien tumbled from the boats as
they bounced further out into the wind blown chop. Ben zoomed in on the action
on one small boat just as the aliens penetrated the cabin and despatched the
pilot. The brave lass had her own last laugh though, her dead weight veering
the vessel hard starboard into the shadowing Krak tank. The resulting
explosion filling the holographic diorama with painfully bright crimsons
before the op filters damped the colour set. As we skipped from
drone-cam to drone-cam we saw a few more human boats succumb, but the
bulk of the human vessels did eventually outrun the Krak, either to fortified
positions on the opposing shore or out to mother ships on the Pyrrhae Sea.

Clearing Chelny Hills

Todd had just broken out the nutri-sticks when Irshad was called out of
the tank. Apparently there was something command could only tell him in
person. The look on his face said he wasn't that impressed about risking his
hide outside with the odd Krak shell still going off, but he didn't grouse.
About 45 minutes later he was back and we were heading out. Seems that while
we were watching the oceanic shoot up there was a debate back at HQ about
whether we could make good on Euri advances and push the Krak back off the
approaches to Vinogradov and Arda altogether. To my limited grasp of military
wisdom it looked questionable; uphill
against a dug-in enemy. There was no avoiding it would be costly. The
extreme western end of the Arda, Chelny Hills, was still in Krak hands. While
called hills they were far from gentle rolling grassed topped affairs. They
featured such extreme terrain as rock escarpments rising 650 metres from the
floor of the Valles. Irshad said the word was old Colonel Eshkol was bitterly
opposed to an assault on the Hills, but General Matear was enthusiastic given
what the Euri's had pulled off in their "ancient kit held together with spit,
cabbage gum and heavy language". Either way we were on the move and even I had
to admit that there was some relief at the thought of actually doing
something.

By the time we were at our start line we had joined up with the brigade under
"Ironside" Mandler and a local brigade drawn from Jaroslaw.
Sit-maps on the holo-board also showed two infantry brigades (marked by
small blue icons edged in green) in support to our rear. The sit-map
also had a string of bright red triangles across the terrain contours to our
front. The local section of the Krak invasion force; estimated at 50,000
strong grouped into the equivalent of 9 brigades, with sickening amounts of
artillery and armour in support; the outlines of individual 'Killjoys' on the
drone shots underscoring how big those behemoths were. You couldn't imagine a
worse place to have a tank battle. The warped terrain was made up of
mountainous slopes crisscrossed by streams and rutted gullys every few hundred
metres. All of which ran west to east across the line of attack. At first the
assault took the direct approach, but Jose (and the other drivers) soon called
that to a halt as we were all jarred within an inch of lethal bruising (or at
least that's how it felt). My butt and teeth were aching and if it weren't for
my polyclad overshirt I'd have had cuts on my shoulders and thighs where my
harness was biting hard. With no traversable road corridors through the
mess we were forced to channel along east-west zig-zags. We were
advancing, but with effectively uncovered flanks. The Krak grav meant their
movement wasn't as restricted and thankfully rows of Martian willow meant they
couldn't get clear fire lanes on our approach. One advantage we did have came
compliments of the Jaroslaw brigade. It was
peppered with ex-miners who were well acquainted with the mining and
settlement tunnels honeycombing the area.

We were well in to the 12th by the time we cleared the rise. The RNACAF, which
had been attacking Krak artillery along the Arda Valles for the past week, was
called in to attack the Krak positions above us. Whereas
the heavier, and well-protected artillery, had been mostly undamaged by
the bombing runs, the Krak ground forces above us were pulverised. I can not
say how grateful we were as we'd be attached to the forward assault force,
which had to follow a Jaroslaw through the tunnels and attack the Krak
positions literally from below. Its hard to imagine sweating on
Mars in a habi-controlled tank, but I certainly was after 15 minutes in
those tunnels. There was nothing but short sharp breathing as Jose scrapped us
through a couple of tight spots (Todd muttering jokingly about paint jobs and
wing mirrors) and then an explosion of profanity and command as we ran into a
Krak anchor force. The Krak fired to bring the entire mountain down on our
heads while Todd showed why this crew keeps a pot of paint for kill rings;
never thought I'd see sniper skill in a tanker. We blasted through though and
between us, the airforce bombs and the poor guys playing decoy with a frontal
assault, by afternoon we had overrun the Krak lines. As nervy as I was going
underground, I can't imagine what it must have been like in that frontal
assault; chewed up by terrain and alien alike.

Command opted not to push the front further for now, but to fortify the flanks
of Vinogradov and the northern flanks of the Arda. So (on the 13th January) we
set about digging in, napping and waiting for the next move. Ben convinced me
to play cards, "after all I already own your apartment and that of your
offspring for 3 generations, what could you possibly have to lose?...". I
couldn't keep it up for long though and I ended up dozing off. I had been
asleep a few hours when a shell burst directly over the tank tossed me to the
floor shaking me fully awake in
an instant. The Krak had mounted a massive counter-attack. While we held
our own, all but depleting our load-out over the next 6 hours, the
division to our east was not so fortunate. The Kraks down there burst up the
side of Vinogradov and advanced 20 km onto the plateau. My crew were fixated
on their own battle, but I used by HUD to watch the collapse to our east.
Watching the stealthed alien troops flow past was like watching the ground
heave. There must have been the equivalent of two army corps in that attack.
The violence of the Krak assault overcame the Canadian division down there
with relative ease. The remnants of the
division tried to counter-attack, but they were so weakened they were
easily repelled. The Kraks made chillingly effective use of some new
anti-tank-anti-air missile they'd pulled from their seemingly bottomless
arsenal.

As you can imagine, news of the slaughter of the 11th Canadian Division did
little for morale. Morale dropped even lower when HQ found it necessary to
commit our southern reserves to the fight in the southwest Arda. From our
perspective the brightest moment of the day was the news of the capture of a
Krak commander. We'd never get anything out of him (her? it?), the brutes
never lived long in captivity, but the sheer satisfaction of knowing some
human was up to the task of taking one of
those blood-thirsty beasts alive was immense. I knew the news reports
back home would be filled with imbedded accounts of the intense battles that
had been waging against the Kraks for the last few days. So when I got my
story upload clearance I left talk of the Krak thrust to others and
concentrated on how our forces had destroyed an entire Krak brigade in the
last 24 hours, destroying 102 Krak tanks, and how the commander and 31 troops
had been captured.

<Continued in Part Three>