[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