| Author |
When the Hammer Falls |
Kenny_Naboo
Marshal
Pitch Black
Joined: January 11, 2010
Posts: 3823
From: LobsterTown
|  Posted: 2012-05-23 03:23
"Not exactly very good cover is it? We're quite exposed, if you ask me", the Captain commented as he surveyed the area while crouched on the turret. Another hazy Peron morning out in the boondocks. He glanced at his watch. Time: 0830 hours.
"Yes, sir. Does seem so." Kendall nodded. He looked around and shrugged. There were no trees or substantial vegetation on the ridge they were on. Seated halfway out of the commander's hatch, he looked south into the valley below. The hill sloped gently down from the crest. He estimated a distance of about 1.5 klicks to the base of the hill, then another 1 klick east to the tree line of the nearby woods. The next hill was about another 2 klicks further south. But it was a steep one, and heavily forested. No vehicle was going to get through that.
His HT-7 Crusader hovertank was resting hull down in a hastily dug-in position on the reverse slope of the hill, partially surrounded by sandbags which were covered with some shrubs and bushes for camouflage. Next to his tank, spread out line abreast, were the other two remaining tanks in his platoon.
Sergeant Patrick Kendall had just inherited command of Platoon 2 of Alpha Company, UGTO 94th Armor, a company consisting of three tank platoons accompanied by a single support platoon. The rest of the 94th, Bravo and Charlie, had been dispersed or destroyed during the ICC opening attack on Peron and presumed lost in action. Just yesterday, Kendall's platoon commander in Tank 1 had been KIA when his Crusader was taken out by a well aimed 130mm kinetic-kill gauss slug fired from an ICC BT-65 Hecatonchires main battle tank. The hypersonic KK projectile had struck the PC's tank at the base of the turret, sending it flying over 50 feet skywards in a catastrophic explosion. And that was that. As the senior NCO, Kendall was automatically advanced to command.
The 94th had engaged an ICC mechanized infantry company about ten klicks south of their current position. Mostly consisting of infantry riding in APCs along with some IFVs and tanks mixed in, the enemy force had been repelled in a vicious twelve minute long battle which saw the loss of Kendall's PC and another Heimdall Heavy Tank in Platoon 3. The enemy had taken significant casualties before breaking off, but not before calling in artillery on the 94th and forcing them to fall back to where they were now.
Overnight, the 94th had dug in and set up some camo netting on a frame over the tanks to visually mask the platoon from aerial recon. The tanks themselves were equipped with special adaptive tiles, or pixels, that were designed to rapidly change in temperature, enabling them to quickly blend in with the environment, fooling any thermal imaging or IR sensors looking out for them.
BTW, These things do exist today - http://defense-update.com/20110905_bae-adaptiv_camouflage.html )
The only problem was their exhaust plume once they got moving. The Crusader's ability to hover came courtesy of two ion engines mounted just behind the turret basket; the crew compartment. The twin ion engines generated over 40 tons of thrust, which was then directed into an array of gimbaled nozzles distributed under the tank's skirted hull. The vectored thrust, enough to lift the hovertank up to six feet in the air, also allowed the tank to slide or strafe in any direction whilst hovering. Two aft facing thrusters for provided for rapid forward motion, allowing the Crusader to reach a max velocity of about 100 miles per hour in a straight line. An array of lateral control thrusters mounted around the sides of the tank gave the driver yaw and strafe control.
Cool ambient air was also sucked in and mixed with the exhaust to not only assist in lowering the IR signature of the tank, but also reduce the chances of the tank setting fire to any vegetation or obstacle that it traversed over. Despite that, the tank was only truly nearly invisible when it sat perfectly still with its engines offline. But that also meant that it was a sitting duck. In practice, the Crusader's engines were always on standby even when in defilade, as Kendall's platoon was at that moment. But standby to full hover thrust still took about ten seconds. Ten valuable seconds, thought Kendall. Ten seconds was an eternity when the balloon went up. Hell, there could be an ATGM incoming, or maybe an enemy tank was already lasing you and a gauss round was just a couple of seconds away. Happy thoughts.
Kendall glanced left towards the east. Just 300 meters away, also in their dug out positions were the squat and angular profiles of four MBT-3s from Platoon 1. The MBT-3 Heimdall was a more traditional tracked tank. Weighing in at over 70 tons, it sported twin heavy particle cannons on its turret as its main weapon, supplemented with a couple of 30mm 6-barrel gatling rotary cannon and even a single CL beam for point defense. The MBT-3 was the UGTO's premier main battle tank. It was also the most heavily armored unit in their inventory.
But Kendall would trade armor for mobility any day. While the Heimdall could get as good as it gave, it was a lumbering beast compared to his Crusader. He regarded the number three Crusader parked just next to his. The HT-7 had a wedge shaped hull with a sharply sloped turret located about two-thirds of the way back. The commander and gunner sat in the turret basket, while the driver sat in the main hull just ahead of and under the turret.
Overall, the Crusader actually looked aesthetically pleasing in an almost aerodynamic fashion. Sort of like a sports car amongst tanks, he mused. Of course, that wasn't the primary intention. Angled surfaces didn't directly reflect light back to the source or emitter, resulting in reduced reflectivity and visibility. That made lasing the Crusader a little harder, as well as reducing the radar cross section considerably. Another benefit of the angled surface was the increased chance of deflecting an incoming projectile, thereby increasing the tank's survivability.
Sticking out from the front of the turret was the tank's main gun; a single heavy particle cannon. The same 30mm gatling found on the Heimdall was mounted coaxially next to the main gun. Atop the turret, next to the commander's hatch was another manually operated 30mm gatling. Unlike the Heimdall, the Crusader did not have a PD CL beam emitter. But like all tanks in the UGTO inventory, it came equipped with defenses like smoke grenades launchers, laser and radar jammers, and chaff dispensers.
Just shy of 40 tons, the Crusader was considered more of a medium tank. Its main advantage was its speed and ability to reposition heavy firepower on the battlefield quickly. The downside was protection and stability. It didn't have the Heimdall's armor. And taking a hit from any sizeable caliber ammunition, especially while on the move could cause the tank to roll or dip into the ground. There had been several documented cases where Crusaders had been taken out on the move when they flipped over after their main gun or skirted hull had dug into the ground; this was after taking what could be considered survivable hits.
[ This Message was edited by: Kenny_Naboo[+R] on 2012-05-26 06:00 ]
_________________
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Kenny_Naboo
Marshal
Pitch Black
Joined: January 11, 2010
Posts: 3823
From: LobsterTown
| Posted: 2012-05-23 03:24
Kendall climbed out of the hatch and hopped off the turret, taking a walk with the Captain towards the Company CO in Platoon 1. Capt Hendrickson was the fleet Forward Air Controller attached to the 94th's support platoon. Support consisted of four Infantry Fighting Vehicles or IFVs; MFV-2 Rapiers equipped with 30mm autocannons and ATGMs, and carrying up to eight SAM equipped troops. The FAC's job was to coordinate close air support and advise on air defense for the 94th.
"Weather's looking like crap", Kendall motioned to the low, dark clouds above. An overcast at about 1500 feet hung over the battlefield. Any air support that they could get would have scant seconds to visually acquire and engage their targets before they had to pull up and get the hell out of Dodge. It was all rolling hills and valleys in the immediate region. With crests of up to 1200 feet, those pilots were going to have plenty of close calls with the terrain during their attack run.
Hendrickson grunted his agreement. "The Ikes are gonna love this weather. Intel suggests that they've got more VTOLs than Aerospacers in the area."
"So what d'you have for us?", Kendall asked the FAC.
"I've got us a couple of B-27s on standby, and maybe a flight of fighters later. It'll be in the briefing", Hendrickson replied.
"How about veetols?", Kendall enquired. VTOL-crafts replaced the helicopter gunship somewhere in the late 21st century. Vectored thrust supplanted traditional rotor blades, but they were still strictly atmospheric vehicles unable to attain orbit unlike the much faster aerospace fighters. However, they had the advantage of being able to loiter in the target area and providing extended air support, usually at great personal risk.
"I dunno. Still trying to sort that out," Hendrickson shook his head. "Gunship support is gonna be hard to get. Their base was hit hard by an orbital strike last night. A lot of them were destroyed on the ground."
As they approached Platoon 1, the 94th's CO, Major Oxley climbed down off his tank and ushered them towards the makeshift command post that was located lower down the reverse slope, right next to the support platoon.
"Gentlemen," greeted Oxley. "Let's take a walk." Kendall and Hendrickson fell in line with the CO as they made their way towards the CP.
The CO went on, "I just got off the horn with Command. Orbital recon a few hours back showed that we got Ickies about 20 plus klicks west of our position. Looks like 2 mechanized heavy infantry companies with a tank company in tow, plus one arty battery. They were last seen heading East, so Command figures that they will be passing by this valley in the next few hours. Their objective appears to be the Starport and Cortex Nexus at Antioch."
Antioch was the nearby city east of their position. The planet's main starport and cortex nexus was located next to it. It was ringed with defense bases, making bombing or landing troops directly in that area nearly impossible. The only way of taking the city was from the ground.
He continued, "Also, we had reports of an enemy VTOL FOB near their insertion point. Hendrickson will clue us in on that later."
Stepping through into the CP tent, the three headed towards the map table. The PCs from Platoon 3 and the Support platoon were already waiting there. After exchanging greetings, Oxley called up the map from the overhead projector, bringing up a holographic representation of the surrounding terrain over the table. He rotated the map around, then zoomed it in to display their immediate region on a scale 40 klicks across.
"Gentlemen, the Ickies landed here", he referred to a point around 30 klicks away. "They were inserted somewhere around 0700 hrs this morning. They're probably the reinforcements for the attack that we repelled yesterday. Unfortunately, we lost sight of the guys we faced off. They went off the grid, last location somewhere here", he indicated a spot 15 klicks southwest. "OK, now the bad news. The Ickies actually landed two infantry companies, an arty battery, and TWO tank companies. That's right folks. Two tank companies. Which means, we're missing one tank company on the orbital scans. No one knows where they went, but we can assume that they should be within a radius of about 10 to 15 klicks from where they inserted, based on an estimate of their best speed."
Oxley called for an annulus to be displayed around the ICC's insertion point. The holomap displayed a thick ring around the insertion point. He continued, "Now we can assume that they'll head in the general direction of their objective, which is east towards us and Antioch. So we'll eliminate the north, south and west quadrants."
Working the controls, three quarters of the annulus disappeared from view. What remained was a fan shaped area 5 klicks thick, with the wide arc facing the 94th's position. Oxley then extended the fan further out to simulate the next 6 hours. The 94th's position fell well within the projected area. The five commanders exchanged looks. There was a very real possibility that they could get flanked by that missing tank company.
Kendall studied the map again. The 94th were at the ridge of Hill 237, facing south down into the east-west valley. It was about 1.5 klicks down to the valley. The woods began about 1 klick more to the east. That was where the enemy forces were expected to emerge from. Further south on the other side of the valley was Hill 239. That hill was way too steep and rugged for any vehicle to traverse. 2 klicks east of 237 was Hill 238, another barely traversable hill whose crest was about 300 feet higher than their position. The eastern slope of 238 that was facing their position was also too rugged for any vehicle to traverse. That made the valley the only direct route from the insertion point to Antioch.
He frowned and bit his lip. It seemed easy enough... perhaps too easy. When the enemy emerged from the woods, the 94th would have a clear shot from their defilade positions. The plan was to allow at least half the expected enemy force to emerge from the tree line before breaking cover and opening fire, catching them in the open. With no cover, they should be able to inflict serious casualties on the ICC armor. The best case scenario would then be for the ICC lead elements to turn tail and retreat, straight into their trailing comrades just emerging from the tree line. That should send their entire force into confusion and disarray. That was the kill zone. Easy pickings.
Somehow, he still had his misgivings. Where was the mechanized infantry unit they fought yesterday? Even more worrying, where the hell was the other missing tank company? He shrugged. Well, no plan ever survived contact with the enemy anyway.
"How about their air support?", Oxley asked Hendrickson, breaking Kendall's train of thoughts. Enemy air cover, another wildcard.
"According to HQ, they have a carrier cruiser somewhere up there", Hendrickson pointed skyward. "The damned thing's jumping in and out of orbit, avoiding our battlegroup and making quick launch and recovery operations. But Command's trying to spare a couple of dessies to patrol higher orbit and intercept any tranny or carrier trying to make a drop."
_________________
... in space, no one can hear you scream.....
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Kenny_Naboo
Marshal
Pitch Black
Joined: January 11, 2010
Posts: 3823
From: LobsterTown
| Posted: 2012-05-23 03:25
Everything began when a fleet of ICC ships emerged out of jump only two days back, engaging the small UGTO defending battlegroup in orbit. During the battle, a group of enemy bombers had managed to penetrate the blockade. The planetary garrison was caught off guard because fleet to ground communications were jammed. The only warning they had of the upcoming invasion was when several MIRVs entered the atmosphere and detonated above two of the planet's four quantum generators. One of the gens was completely destroyed in a nuclear inferno, the units stationed nearby immolated along with the facility they were guarding. The other quantum gen took less damage as point defense managed to take out the incoming nukes, detonating them at a higher altitude. The resulting brownout knocked out enough of the planet's defenses to allow several ICC transports to enter orbit and make their drops.
And so began the battle for Peron.
Those clowns in Fleet Command should have expected this, Kendall mused darkly. The ICC had been attacking Dres-Kona in force for the past couple of weeks. The Fleet Admiral had requested for reinforcements from Sector Command, but nothing substantial beyond a few more cruisers and destroyers had been sent. Last everyone heard, everything else was being redirected to Kaus Borealis. There were rumors abound of alien ships running amok in the system.
So the ICC fleet played cat and mouse with the battlegroup, drawing the UGTO fleet out and whittling them down while making drops and recon runs on Peron. With the chaotic situation out there in space, orbital support was minimal for both sides. That was both good and bad. Good in a sense that the threat of orbital bombardment and being spotted from above was drastically reduced. Bad, because the same situation was also true for the enemy.
Basically, it wound down to conventional surface warfare with limited CAS. Intel would be hours, if not days old; very spotty indeed.
Hendrickson continued, "What we know of and have seen so far are XB-11 Annihilators. The M-270 Carrier Cruiser carries only four strike wings, usually two bomber and two fighter wings. So we'll probably see those XB-11s pounding us later if the Ikes get the call through. But at least it won't be nukes, so that's some good news. Let's just hope that Command can get us those dessies."
"Next, we also know that another tranny made a second drop not too far from the first. Recon reported that they might have set up a small Veetol FOB somewhere in that vicinity. Now, a single one of their ships can carry four Veetols along with enough ammo and supplies for a short campaign. So we gotta worry about at least four gunships in addition to everything else arrayed against us", he concluded, grimacing.
"Beg pardon, sir, but is there gonna be any bad news at all here?", the Support commander slipped in. Nervous chuckles went around the table.
Oxley grinned, then punched in a few commands into the map controller and the holodisplay rotated and panned around. "Okay gentlemen, we've got some air support available later which Captain Hendrickson will be briefing us about next. Besides that, Command also promised us arty support. But it'll only be available after 1130 hours, as they're still redeploying the battery to get within range of us."
"Help is coming, gentlemen", Oxley continued, "but they may not be able to make it before the hammer falls. So tell your men to hunker down when the shooting starts. Hendrickson?"
"Yes, Sir", Hendrickson chimed in. "I got a couple B-27s on standby at the Starport. They'll have one or two passes before they have to break for orbit. When they're about 30 secs out, the signal is 'Earthquake'. I'll be designating the target as they're approaching."
"I also have a flight of A-34s that will be taking off on an attack mission elsewhere at 1015 hours. Their available window is between 1105 to 1115 where they'll be egressing somewhere over us enroute to RTB."
"We have no word on VTOL support at the moment. They're still licking their wounds and picking up the pieces from that airstrike last night. HQ Air tells me that they might be able to get two or three birds in the air by mid morning, but I'm being honest when I tell you gentlemen that I'm not putting too much hope there."
Oxley spoke up again, "Okay people, you know the drill. Platoon 1's already dug in at the east end of the ridge. Platoon 2's is in the center. Platoon 3 will take up the west."
He zoomed the display all the way in to Hill 237, rotating the map to place south at the top. The overhead map showed the 3 tank platoons in a line abreast formation. Platoon 1 was on the far left, Platoon 2 was in the middle, and Platoon 3 on the right. The platoons were all just behind the ridge line on the northern reverse slope with their guns pointed south into the valley below.
"Now, I want Support to split into two groups and place themselves between the tank platoons. Keep under the ridge line until our first shots hit. Then have them pop up in defilade and use their ATGMs."
Support commander nodded his head in acknowledgement.
"The rest of you keep your eyes peeled for antenna tanks. Take them out first, stat." Any tanks with antennas mounted usually meant it was either the company or battalion commander. In any case, it was a C3 vehicle, and that made it a priority kill.
Oxley continued, "Hendrickson, are the troops done with the foxholes and trenches? Make sure the trenches along the ridgeline are connected to the command trench on the reverse slope. And I don't want any man out there in the open when the shells start falling. No one gets out of their hole unless they're shooting at enemy air, you hear me?"
Hendrickson: "Yes sir."
"Troops in the ridgeline trenches will provide ATGM support where they can. SAM troops will be in the command trench. If we're gonna bug out, I want them all to evac their way to the reverse slope and get onboard the IFVs pronto. When it comes down to that, Platoons 2 and 3 will cover the egress. If we get overrun and they're not able to evac, stay in the trenches and scatter west. Try to survive."
"All right, tell your men to settle in and get some food and rest. But keep some guys posted on watch. I want eyes on that tree line, as well as the crests of Hill 238 and 239. No one should be able to see us till about one klick out, but we're not taking any chances", he carried on with the other commanders paying full attention.
"Pay special attention to 238. Anyone on that ridge will be able to look down our west flank. Platoon 3, take note of that. It's your ass on the line. If anyone so much as sticks their head out on that ridge, I want them ID'ed and prosecuted ASAP", he barked.
"Last, I want complete radio silence. Get some of the troops to act as runners between the platoons. I want total EMCON until the balloon goes up. Don't want them zeroing in on our transmissions and raining arty on us."
"This is it gentlemen. Keep it together when the hammer falls. OK? Get moving", Oxley concluded.
_________________
... in space, no one can hear you scream.....
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Kenny_Naboo
Marshal
Pitch Black
Joined: January 11, 2010
Posts: 3823
From: LobsterTown
| Posted: 2012-05-23 03:25
The briefing done, Oxley dismissed the platoon commanders but asked the FAC to stay behind. As the three PCs made their way out of the tent, Oxley turned to Hendrickson and asked, "Any word from Fleet Command? I mean, can they at least spare us a bomber frigate or something?" Hendrickson sighed, "I dunno, Sir. In fact, Fleet's telling me that the situation up there is escalating. If things don't get better any time soon, we'd be lucky if they even send us a tranny to evac us off this rock. I'll keep ringing them for support. But no guarantees."
Just then, the tent flap was brushed aside by another person entering the CP. Both commanders turned their heads to address their new visitor. Oxley's face twisted in disgust. Hendrickson simply narrowed his eyes.
"Gentlemen. Good morning," the interloper greeted both officers. "I trust that your preparations are going well." Oxley and Hendrickson exchanged looks before Oxley answered, "Mr Quentin, everything is being set up as we speak."
Both officers regarded Alain Quentin, the unit's CPL, or Corporate Policy Liaison officer. Every battalion and every flagship had one of these guys attached to them. Unfortunately for Oxley, he got stuck with Quentin when Alpha Company got separated from the rest of the 94th in the bedlam during the opening assault on Peron. Since then, their orders to defend Antioch's western approach had continued to keep them separated from the rest of the UGTO forces tasked to defend installations elsewhere on the planet.
Just what he needed, a policy spouting, bean counting, nosey parker commissar tagging along and breathing down his neck in the field. God! These guys were just like the damned commie Zampolits back in the ancient days of the Soviet Union. Frakking Political Officers who were more concerned with ideology than strategy or the welfare of his men. The sad thing was that these clowns usually had the final say, holding more administrative power than even the unit CO. Quentin was more concerned with profit and loss, and the unit's adherence to the Organization's policy. And in Oxley's mind, he had no doubt that Quentin would "suggest" that they go on a suicide mission if it meant preserving the UGTO's hold on Antioch or Peron.
"Major Oxley, I do hope our efforts pay off this time and send the rebel scums running. Your last endeavor yesterday ended in this unit falling further back, even though the enemy was sent into retreat", Quentin chastised.
What? What did this pig just say? Oxley couldn't believe his ears. It was "our efforts" when they were working to set up a defense, or when the unit was successful in a mission. But it was "your endeavor" when things didn't go quite right. He wanted to strangle the little rat right there and then, but held himself in check.
"I don't recall you even being at the battle, Mr Quentin. In fact, I seem to remember you scurrying off, commandeering one of MY much needed IFVs five minutes before enemy contact. Funny that you should mention retreat", Oxley's word dripped with sarcasm.
Quentin flushed a little before heatedly replying, "I am a government officer acting as an advisor here, Major." He pronounced the Oxley's rank as if it were something vulgar and beneath his dignity to say. "YOU are a grunt entrusted and tasked by the Board to defend our worlds and assets from being molested by the rebel scums. I would advise you to know your place in the grand scheme of things and hold your tongue. Your job is to fight and crush the ICC rabble, retaking and driving them off our worlds, our star systems, and if need be, die in the attempt. My job is to remind you of your responsibilities, your oath of service, and to ensure that you adhere strictly to the policies set forth by our great Trade Organization."
"Is that clear to you, Major Oxley?", Quentin finally spat out.
"Well since you put it that way, Mr Quentin, I can hardly refuse, can I?", Oxley shrugged as he walked past Quentin on the way out of tent. "By the way, all the IFVs have been assigned to their defensive positions", he smiled. "I suggest you go find one of the trenches to hide in when the shooting starts. No train outta town tonight. But if you really need to go, the next town's a nice 30 klick stroll out into the boonies. Your call."
Hendrickson grabbed an assault rifle off a table and tossed it at Quentin as he followed Oxley out. "Here, catch! You'll be needing this", he laughed. Quentin clumsily caught the rifle and blanched, suddenly turning pale.
_________________
... in space, no one can hear you scream.....
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Kenny_Naboo
Marshal
Pitch Black
Joined: January 11, 2010
Posts: 3823
From: LobsterTown
| Posted: 2012-05-23 03:26
1050 hours.
The sun was midway between the zenith and horizon. Kendall was seated half out of his commander's hatch. It was a good thing they had the camo net set up. It provided them with good shade. He was drinking from his canteen, holding his binoculars in the other hand. Out of the corner of his eyes he noticed something in the distance, somewhere in the forest. He brought his field glasses up to his eyes and peered through.
He estimated the distance to be about three klicks away, still well inside the tree line. It looked like the trees were rustling about over there, and there was a smoke or dust trail coming out through the canopy. He whistled at the commander in Tank 3 and pointed in the direction of the activity. Crusader 2-3's commander looked through his own binos at the forest, then nodded his head at Kendall. It was time.
Kendall instructed the runners stationed next to his tank to spread the word, then return to their trenches. They took off running towards the other platoons.
He looked down into the hatch at his gunner, "Heads up, Garcia. We've got company. Prime the main gun." Specialist Tito Garcia had been his gunner for the past couple of years. They made a good team. Garcia was a competent shooter, having already taken out an IFV and two tanks in the battle yesterday in addition to countless others on a hundred other battlefields that they had been on since the great war started.
In the driver's seat was Specialist Abigail Macready. Barely pushing twenty years of age and not too long out of the academy, Abby was however, an excellent driver if not a little foul mouthed. Illegal street racing and grand theft auto were in her blood until she was finally arrested in a sting operation. She was offered a choice: Enlist or enjoy prison food. She chose the former.
As the last of the infantry troopers got into their trenches, Kendall primed his gatling cannon as he heard Abby uttering a short prayer; "Oh Lord, please don't let us frak this crap up." He couldn't help but grin as he flipped on the targeting gear on the commander's console just below the hatch in the tank. Then he put the Inter Vehicle Data Link system on standby. The IVDL would link up the entire company, sharing positional and targeting information between all the tanks and IFVs of the 94th. Fire control and coordination was of utmost importance here. They were going to be outnumbered three to one. Every shot counted.
"Don't shoot till they're about 1.5 klicks out, Garcia", Kendall reminded him. "Hell, don't shoot till Platoon 1 starts shooting. Let's see how close the CO wanna play this."
"Frakkin' A, boss", Garcia replied as he began flipping switches on his consoles, turning on his targeting gear.
"And make sure you actually hit something this time Garcia, instead of just swinging that little gun of yours around like it was your ding dong", Abby taunted. Garcia flipped her the bird before going back to what he was doing.
For the next 3 minutes, Kendall observed the dust trail and collapsing trees get closer and closer to the edge of the tree line. Finally, the first enemy vehicle broke through, followed by two more similar types.
Garcia had his gunsights on the lead vehicle. The targeting camera mounted just under the base of the cannon barrel relayed the image back to the display panel on his console. He called out, "Target tank, two o'clock, ID'ed as ICC Bravo Tango Six Five." It was an ICC BT-65 main battle tank. The BT-65 Hecatonchires was one of the heavier ICC MBTs. Second only to the BT-55 Tarturus, the Heca (as it was called) carried a single turreted 130mm gauss cannon that spat out solid depleted urdanium slugs at over Mach 9. The slugs were completely solid, having no warhead. An urdanium slug hitting anything at Mach 9 didn't fricking need explosives! A single hit could disable or kill even a Heimdall. A single hit on a Crusader would literally cut it in two. Besides the gauss cannon, the Heca also carried a gatling cannon for use against infantry and light vehicles as well as an ATGM launcher, keeping in line with the ICC's motto of engaging at range. Put simply, the Heca was 60 tons of very bad news. Kendall put them at the top of his priority kill list.
He continued to watch nervously as another three Hecas broke into the clear. There were six of them now, tearing across the plains at 30 miles per hour. Then the APCs started to appear. The DZ-8 APC was an 8-wheeled personnel carrier that could transport 16 fully equipped troops across the battlefield at 60 miles per hour. Armed only with a couple of gatling guns, it was more transport than combatant.
Kendall watched as the number of APCs emerging from the tree line grew to twelve. Garcia was already following the lead Heca, finger ready on the laser rangefinder trigger. All he needed was the go ahead, and he would depress the left trigger to get a range reading, followed by the right trigger to fire the heavy particle cannon. He gingerly turned the yoke to track his target; the Crusader's turret slowly swung from 2 o'clock to 1 o'clock in response.
The stadiametric rangefinder on his screen was telling him that the lead tank was already at about 1.8 klicks distant. He counted off the range as it got closer. Then he spotted it. "Antenna tank!", he called out to Kendall. It was the third tank in the group. Kendall checked his own screen, then instructed Garcia to target the antenna tank instead. He acknowledged, turning the yoke to put the pipper on the command tank. Stadia range: 1.9 klicks.
1.8 klicks, Garcia's left thumb was caressing the rangefinder trigger ever so gently in anticipation.
1.7 klicks, Kendall wiped the sweat out of his eyes, feeling his heart thumping in his ears.
1.6 klicks, the IVDL system indicator lit up, indicating an active data link from the command tank. That could only mean that the CO in Heimdall 1-1 was about to start shooting. The fire control computers in each tank in the company started talking to each other, coordinating and assigning targets to every tank. Garcia received instructions to stay on the antenna tank. Everyone received an assigned target.
"When the hammer falls...", Kendall muttered, echoing Oxley's words earlier.
1.5 klicks. Showtime...
_________________
... in space, no one can hear you scream.....
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Kenny_Naboo
Marshal
Pitch Black
Joined: January 11, 2010
Posts: 3823
From: LobsterTown
| Posted: 2012-05-23 03:27
An incandescent blue-white bolt of super excited protons shot forth from the left barrel of Heimdall 1-1's twin main guns, the superheated air around it rapidly expanding in a loud clap of thunder. It was followed by ten other particle cannon bolts from the rest of the tanks of the 94th. As the particle bolt ripped its way through the atmosphere, it began lose some of its energy ionizing the air molecules in its path. But then it didn't have to travel very far.
It took less than a quarter of a second for the bolt to travel the 1.5 klicks to its target. Oxley's gunner had aimed it at the base of the turret, where the Heca's rotating turret and body were joined by the turret ring. It was universally considered to be the weakest part of the tank, other than the rear and top armor. The shot slammed into the turret base; the accelerated particles in the bolt transferring its tremendous energy to the target tank. Most of the energy was spent on the armor, as chunks of ablative armor plating and adaptive camo tiles were blown off the hull. However, a stream of particles managed to get into the gap between the turret and hull and found their way to the turret ring where they impacted with equal fury, but this time against a much weaker structure.
Inside the Heca, the gunner was busy looking into his screen, swiveling his turret around to scan the landscape for enemy activity. The laser warning receiver suddenly buzzed. He was just about to warn his commander when the panel on his left exploded in a blue-white flash of light. He didn't even have time to scream as the interior of the tank's turret spalled, sending white hot fragments pinging around inside the turret basket. Both commander and gunner were shredded to pieces where they sat.
The driver seated further forward in the hull was spared from the effects of the hit. He immediately swerved the tank hard right, colliding side on with an APC. The hapless 15-ton DZ-8 was pushed into a rut in the terrain, rolling over several times before finally resting on its side.
In Crusader 2-4, Garcia's left thumb depressed the rangefinder trigger. A thin IR laser beam bounced off the target. The range display came up in his sight: 1492 meters. The fire-control computer plotted target distance and speed and made final adjustments to the elevation and bearing of the main gun. Sensors measured barometric pressure, air density and humidity to adjust for any atmospheric effects on the particle cannon shot. All Garcia had to do was to center the target in his gunsights.
"Target, Antenna Tank, 1 o'clock, firing!", Garcia's right thumb went down on the trigger, unleashing blue-white death at the BT-65 in his sights. The bolt hit the Heca in the rear quarter of the turret, causing the ATGM box launcher mounted on the turret's left side to explode. The hit didn't kill the tank. But the onboard ATGM explosion and resultant EMP released from the particle bolt knocked out some of the tank's primary systems. The Heca began zigzagging in response to the attack.
"Hit! Damage one", he shouted out. The Crusader's particle cannon began its 5 second recharge cycle as Garcia continued to follow the antenna tank in his sights for a second shot.
In the valley, two other Hecas blew up in ugly gouts of flame and black smoke as more shots from the 94th found their mark. Another 4 APCs also died within the first five seconds of the battle. The ICC tanks and APCs began evasive maneuvers, zigzagging and popping smoke grenades, obscuring the entire area in a dark gray haze.
"Gunner, switch to thermal," Kendall called out as he worked the controls. His screen turned to monochrome as the IR sensors detected the enemy's heat sig through the smokescreen.
Garcia lost the antenna tank in the confusion. ICC vehicles were criss-crossing one another and everything was appearing as white silhouettes all mashed up onscreen. "No joy! I lost the antenna tank. Retargeting!", he called out. He couldn't ID anything in that soup.
He centered his gunsights on what he guessed to be an APC from its silhouette. "Target APC, 1 o'clock, firing!", he called out. Again, the world around them thundered as the Crusader's main cannon spat out another blue-white bolt down the valley. The shot hit the target dead center, turning it into a gushing and flipping ball of flames. His thermal image was momentarily obscured by the intense flare of the exploding vehicle.
"Hit! Target killed", he called out.
Meanwhile, most of the ICC APCs had stopped in their tracks momentarily as they dismounted the infantry they were ferrying. The veteran troopers immediately began dispersing into any cover they could find. A few unfortunates were run over by panicked, green tank drivers trying to zigzag their way through the smoke as they desperately tried to avoid being hit by whoever it was that was shooting at them.
A second wave of incoming particle cannon shots exploded another Heca and two APCs. By then, the ICC force had finally regained their senses and activated their adaptive camo in addition to the smoke.
"I lost IR!", Garcia shouted, "They must have activated their adaptive camo!" Kendall looked at his screen. Nothing. The Ickies were probably using the same technology as theirs. He couldn't see anything now in thermal.
"Track them by IR sigs. Use their exhaust plumes, anything," Kendall replied.
Garcia zeroed in on the white cloud of an exhaust trail that seemed to be moving left. He moved his gunsights further left of the plume and fired. Another bright white flare appeared in his thermal vision. "Hit! Unknown target killed!"
[ This Message was edited by: Kenny_Naboo[+R] on 2012-06-02 04:42 ]
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Kenny_Naboo
Marshal
Pitch Black
Joined: January 11, 2010
Posts: 3823
From: LobsterTown
| Posted: 2012-05-23 03:28
By then a second group of ICC vehicles had emerged from the woods. Something very fast streaked from the smokescreen towards the 94th's position, trailing bluish-orange plasma. It hit the slope about 150 meters ahead of Platoon 1, exploding on impact and throwing up a huge chunks of earth. Gauss round blind fire, Kendall thought, his heart rate going up a notch.
An ATGM streaked from the second group, crossing the distance from the tree line to their crest in 3 seconds. The anti-tank missile clipped the angled turret armor of Heimdall 1-3 and deflected up into the camo netting that was mounted over the platoon, tearing it away skyward before exploding.
They know we're here now, though Kendall. The Rapiers of Support Platoon were already at his side now, popping their turrets just above the ridgeline to acquire their targets. There was a loud hiss as Rapier 4-3 fired off an ATGM at the Confederate forces. Missiles crisscrossed the sky amidst the cannon fire exchange. An ICC APC and IFV were blown up, both hit by ATGMs from the Rapiers. Unfortunately for the ICC, their missiles landed short; every one of them impacting on the slope a few hundred meters down from the 94th's position.
"Target, tank, 12 o'clock...", Kendall ordered as he spotted a Heca emerging from the left edge of the smoke screen. Garcia traversed the turret left to follow. The Heca already had its turret facing them.
"Oh crap", Kendall breathed and hit the release lever near his right thigh. His seat dropped through the hatch into the turret, taking him with it. The commander's hatch slammed close over his head.
The Heca platoon commander was furious. They had walked right into an ambush. Already half of the company was either dead or disabled. His own tank had taken a hit earlier and was damaged but still functional. He had traced the incoming fire to somewhere along the ridge of the northern hill. As he laid smoke and ordered the driver to circle about, he radioed the rest of his platoon to form up in a column. His thermal scope couldn't see anything on the ridgeline through the smokescreen. They must have adaptive camo too, he thought. No choice then; it would have to be a visually acquired snapshot. He ordered the gunner to keep the main cannon aimed at the ridgeline and then told the driver to advance east. His instructions were, "As soon as we clear the smokescreen, acquire and shoot." They were relayed to the rest of the tanks in his platoon.
As he emerged from the smoke, he spotted some small bumps at the top of the ridge. His gunner spotted them the same instant he did and zoomed in on the defiladed enemy tanks. The commander called in the UGTO's position over the radio as the gunner lased the target and fired.
The ICC 130mm gauss cannon was a completely different animal from the UGTO particle cannon. A particle cannon bolt transferred kinetic energy to the target at the atomic level. When the energized and excited particles in the bolt came into contact with the target, it transferred its energy into the target and similarly excited or disrupted its atoms and molecules. Besides disrupting or breaking the molecular bond on the target (usually causing it to disintegrate or explode) it also resulted in a lot of heat and kinetic transfer which almost always caused spalling of the enemy vehicle's interior.
The dense gauss slug simply slammed into the target at several thousand miles per hour, penetrating and transferring its tremendous kinetic energy through. The pyrophoric urdanium core then burned its way into the target tank, fragmenting and igniting everything inside the target. The end result was the same. Death and destruction.
As Kendall dropped into the safety of his tank, a trail of plasma lanced through the air and slammed into the front of Crusader 2-2's turret. The turret was literally ripped off the tank as if it was beheaded by an uppercut. The Crusader's main hull was lifted into the air nose up, then flipped over before landing upside down several feet back. The burning turret landed another 50 feet behind and tumbled down the reverse slope. The spectacular death of the number two HT-7 was followed by the sonic boom of the hypersonic gauss round a second later. Kendall could hear the pinging of fragments bouncing off the hull of his tank.
"All back! Go, go, go! Drive for Alternate 1", he comm'ed his platoon. It was time to leave this spot. The enemy had already zeroed in on their position. They would redeploy to the second prepared position somewhere further west along the ridge.
Abby didn't waste any time. She fired up the ion engines from standby. It would still take 10 seconds before they could move. "Target tank, 12 o'clock, firing!" Garcia called out as he centered a Heca in his sights and hit the trigger. He felt the turret rotate left slightly, followed by the familiar loud thud of the particle cannon firing. The Heca was hit at the base of its turret. The commander's hatch was blown off its hinges by an internal explosion.
The engines finally fully spun up, Abby snapped her dual stick controllers back fully. The tank lifted into the air and leapt 30 feet backwards. Abby rotated the tank to the right by ramming her left stick forwards and the right back. Once it was facing west, she pushed both sticks forward to move ahead. Crusader 2-4 raced towards Alternate 1 with 2-3 following closely behind.
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Kenny_Naboo
Marshal
Pitch Black
Joined: January 11, 2010
Posts: 3823
From: LobsterTown
| Posted: 2012-05-23 03:28
At that moment, the ICC platoon commander was screaming into his radio for air support. Designating Hill 237 as the target, he got his acknowledgement a few seconds later. Next, he switched frequencies to the artillery commander. Those Uggie bastards! He was going to give them a little present.
Crusader 2-3 and 2-4 pulled into their new dug-in positions about half a klick west of the previous one, somewhere 200 plus meters down slope of Platoon 3. The ridge here was lower in elevation. That made shooting down the valley easier as their main guns had a limited range of depression. They could engage the enemy at a closer range. Raising his seat up through the hatch for a better view, Kendall looked through his binos and spotted the second group of ICC APCs that had emerged from the southern edge of the tree line. They were maneuvering towards the southeastern slope, intending to flank them. Not if he could help it!
Kendall designated an APC for Garcia, who dispatched it with a well aimed shot. 2-3 killed an IFV with a shot to the hull. So far, the odds were still in their favor. They had killed over ten ICC vehicles in exchange for one Crusader. And the main ICC group seemed to be scattering all over the place in total disarray.
In the command trench that was dug into the reverse slope, Hendrickson dialed in HQ Air on his comm set, requesting for air support. HQ Air rogered his transmission and gave him an ETA of five minutes. Fifty klicks away, the two B-27 Stratabombers on standby at the runway edge began their engine startup and pre-flights. They would begin rolling down the runway in about two minutes. He called out over the company tacnet, "Chicks incoming, five mikes. Repeat, five mikes, out."
Glancing around, he could see Quentin crouched and cowering in one corner of the trench looking pale and sickly, whimpering every time the thunder of gunfire rang out. He shook his head in disgust, then grabbed his laser designator and ran off towards the ridge.
Arcing through the air at twice the speed of sound, the ICC Type 21 artillery rocket reached a terminal altitude of 37,000 feet and began to tip over, its propellant spent. Following behind it were twenty three similar projectiles. They had been launched from a position nearly thirty klicks away from Hill 237.
Just over two minutes ago, the battery commander had received a fire mission request from the ICC tank commander. The coordinates for Hill 237 was fed into the fire-control computers of each of the MLRS vehicles. Once that was done, the four tracked vehicles rotated their launchers east and ripple fired their rockets towards the target. Fire mission completed, they hurriedly left their launch points. Clearing datum was essential to avoiding counter battery fire.
As the rockets got to within 3 klicks of their target, each one of them popped open to dispense a mix of 300 individual anti-personnel and anti-materiel bomblets.
Kendall was designating another target for Garcia when the first group of bomblets fell on their ridge. The area around Platoon 1 suddenly erupted in a series of small explosions. He dropped himself through the hatch and slammed the top close, then called out, "Incoming! Arty Incoming!" Then he put his face into his lap and covered his head with his hands in a crash-landing position. For a full fifteen seconds, multiple explosions and the pinging of fragments against the hull of his Crusader were all he heard.
Outside, Hendrickson was rushing through the trenches back towards the ridgeline positions with his radio pack in tow when he heard the first crackles of approaching submunition explosions. He shouted out the arty warning and dove for the trench floor proned, face into the ground with his hands over his neck and head. Everything went to hell immediately after that. The world around him seemed to be engulfed in an endless string of explosions that threatened to pulverize his eardrums and rattle his brains to pulp in his skull. Some of the bomblets found their way into parts of the trenches, killing any unfortunate UGTO infantrymen who had nowhere else to run.
Finally silence prevailed, and Hendrickson got to his feet again. Still dazed slightly deafened from the from the bombardment, he stumbled through the trenches towards the ridgeline. Along the way, mangled remains and body parts of those troopers unfortunate enough to have been torn apart by the bomblets greeted his sight. As he reached the edge of the trench, he buckled over and retched from the adrenaline rush.
Oxley cursed and swore. The bombardment hadn't killed any of his vehicles but one of his IFVs, Rapier 4-2, had been disabled when a couple of bomblets had struck it behind the turret and destroyed its engine. The rest of the company reported minor damage. Heimdalls 1-3 and 3-4 had their tracks broken by direct hits. They were also effectively immobilized. He didn't even want to think about his exposed infantrymen. Poor bastards were in the open when the barrage hit.
[ This Message was edited by: Kenny_Naboo[+R] on 2012-05-23 14:05 ]
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Kenny_Naboo
Marshal
Pitch Black
Joined: January 11, 2010
Posts: 3823
From: LobsterTown
| Posted: 2012-05-23 03:29
The enemy was getting coordinated again. Hendrickson heard the booms of cannon fire beginning again. He climbed out of the trench, laying prone at the edge and looked down the slope through his binos. Most of the ICC forces were already in the valley and they were starting to drive north up the slope. They didn't have much of a choice. It was either retreat back into the forest, or storm the 94th's position. The alternative was to stay in the valley and die in a turkey shoot. Besides, with the arty barrage that they just handed the UGTO, now would be a good time to storm the ridge while the 94th was still shell-shocked.
"Aardvark, this is Henhouse. Be advised, strike package inbound two mikes. Callsign Vulture on Uniform Four Four Niner. Over.", HQ Air came in on the comms.
"Roger, Tango Yankee, Aardvark Out", he responded and switched frequencies.
"Vulture, Aardvark. Come in, over." The comm set buzzed with static for a moment before Vulture flight came on the air, "Aardvark, Vulture Lead. We read you loud and clear. Inbound one mike, distance fifteen klicks to target. Laser on in thirty secs. Over."
Dragging the laser designator next to him, he powered it up and aimed it at the center of the incoming tank formation. They were just 1 klick away now. Somewhere to his left, he saw another Heimdall from Platoon 1 exploding as it a gauss slug riding its plasma trail homed in on it. Score another one for the bad guys, he thought grimly. They were down to eight tanks now; six Heimdalls and two Crusaders. The enemy still had at least ten tanks and many more IFVs advancing on them. That didn't include the APCs and infantry taking up the rear. This hill was about to be overrun.
"Aardvark, Vulture Lead. Laser On. Repeat, Laser on. Out", the comm set rasped.
Hendrickson activated the laser and aimed it at one of the tanks that was roughly in the center of the ICC formation. "Payback's a bitch", he thought out loud. He radioed to the rest of the 94th, "Earthquake. Repeat, Earthquake."
The two B-27s of Vulture flight were 5 klicks out and at 10,000 feet. Arming their ordnance, they began a steep dive into the heavy clouds below. The ride became rougher as they entered the clouds at 7,000 feet. Keeping an eye on his altimeter, Vulture Lead's hands went taut on his control column. Any time now he would emerge out under the clouds. He would have perhaps 5 seconds or less to orient himself to the target area and let his weapons officer acquire the laser beam and then release the bombs. He knew the terrain here. If he pulled out too late he would auger in. He sucked his breath in. Pucker factor.
The dark clouds surrounding him suddenly disappeared and the green-brown landscape filled his forward vision. He pulled back hard on the stick to level the bomber out and then steered it for the valley. As he did, his weapons officer reported laser acquisition. He throttled up and pulled back on the stick again as Weaps pickled the bombs. Then they were back into the clouds. All his ordnance expended, he hit the throttle, boosting for orbit while scanning the skies for enemy interceptors.
Hendrickson watched as two winged shapes emerged from the low clouds about 2 klicks east. The two B-27s punched through the cloud cover and pulled up into level flight, making last minute course corrections. Then they pulled up again. As they did, several smaller objects separated from the bombers and began to arc upwards towards the base of the clouds before curving downward in a parabolic trajectory. The bombers disappeared back into the clouds.
As the cluster bombs reached the apex of the curve, their seeker heads locked on to the deflected laser beam and sent minor course correction instructions to the control fin actuators. At an altitude of 750 feet, the eight cluster bombs split open and dispersed their two thousand shaped-charged anti-tank bomblets over an area a hundred meters across.
The bomblets were designed to direct their explosive energy downward onto the thinner top armors of most tanks. The effect was devastating, especially on the less armored IFVs and APCs. Any infantryman caught in the open didn't stand a chance. Unlike the 94th, the ICC troopers didn't have trenches to take cover in.
Hendrickson saw the cluster bombs split open and release a thick cloud of bomblets onto the enemy formation. They fell into the target area and went off like a string of firecrackers, only much louder. For a full fifteen seconds, the entire valley reverberated with the seemingly endless cacophony of exploding bomblets, vehicles and secondary explosions. If he had been a few hundred feet closer to the scene he would heard the screams of terrified and dying men. Dust and smoke obscured his view of the valley.
As the echoes of the last explosion faded away, everything fell silent. He picked up his binos and surveyed the area. As the tanks of the 94th began to move back into their firing positions, he noticed some movement in the now settling dust.
The battlefield was littered with burning vehicles and mutilated bodies, yet somehow, some Confederate Hecas and IFVs were still on the move. But most of them had taken considerable damage, from what he made of their outward appearance. There was a muzzle flash from one of the Hecas, followed by a long plasma trail streaking in towards them. The shot found its way just a few feet in front of one of the Heimdalls in Platoon 1. Return fire from the Heimdalls killed the Heca in the next moment. The 94th continued to fire on the decimated ICC formation, taking out another tank and an IFV.
Suddenly it was too much for the ICC. They began to turn tail, popping smoke, and retreated towards the tree line. Their entire formation had been savaged, having lost over 40% of their men and vehicles.
[ This Message was edited by: Kenny_Naboo[+R] on 2012-05-23 03:30 ]
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Kenny_Naboo
Marshal
Pitch Black
Joined: January 11, 2010
Posts: 3823
From: LobsterTown
| Posted: 2012-05-23 03:31
Oxley ordered a ceasefire once the Confederates disappeared into the tree line. Giving the order for the platoon to remain on watch, he comm'ed for the platoon commanders.
Kendall emerged wearily from the turret hatch. He looked at the palm of his hands and noticed for the first time that they were shaking. No matter how many engagements he had been involved in, he could never get used to it. Probably never would either.
"All PCs, this is 1-1. Get those tanks with broken tracks patched up ASAP. We're vacating this hill in 15 mikes", Oxley came on the air. It was time to get out of there. They may have beaten back the enemy, but the whole world knew where they were now. As the troops and tankers got to work on the IFVs and Heimdalls, Oxley radioed in to HQ and requested permission to fall back east to another defensive position. The request was granted.
3 klicks away, two ICC AV-2 Kestrel VTOL gunships were racing west at treetop level. Engines oriented aft for horizontal flight, they skimmed the top of the canopy at 450 knots indicated. Each of the VTOLs were armed with ATGMs, rocket pods, and gatling autocannons. Approaching the west face of Hill 238, their engines rotated to the vertical position; hover mode, slowing the gunships down to a crawl. Their target was on 237, just over the ridgeline. They would perform a classic pop up surprise attack.
The first AV-2 rose just above the ridgeline and acquired a Heimdall from Platoon 3. The weapons officer lased the target and loosed a couple of ATGMs at the heavy tank. Flight time was just under 10 seconds.
Kendall heard, or rather felt, the two missiles streaking past very low directly overhead. He saw the smoke trails and followed them straight into Heimdall 3-4. The two missiles impacted almost simultaneously, obscuring the tank in an ugly black-orange explosion which sent the turret flying up into the air. The men who were working on the tank's tracks were thrown aside in every direction, many of them dismembered by fragments.
He snapped his head around and spotted the hovering VTOL just above the ridgeline of Hill 238. He flipped his radio to the company tacnet to warn everyone. "Bandits west over 238! Pop smoke! Jammers up!", he radioed before dropping his seat back into the tank and launching smoke grenades. Another missile streaked by and found Rapier 4-4, turning her into a tumbling funeral pyre.
Hendrickson was still in the command trench when he received the air warning. He passed down the order to the troops to assume air defense positions. Then he grabbed the man-portable SAM launcher lying on the ground next to him and scrambled down the west trench.
Having done its deed, the first Kestrel dropped below the ridgeline and began sliding north to reposition itself. The second Kestrel popped up and began acquiring targets. The pilot found nothing. Jamming and smoke was preventing laser acquisition and there was nothing on thermal either. Frustrated, he strafed his aircraft south in an attempt to circle around and find a target.
Hendrickson stuck himself halfway out of the trench, shouldering the tube-launched SAM. With the Kestrel centered in his reticle, he heard the tone indicating an IR lock on the target. He squeezed the trigger. At that same instant, two of his men also launched their SAMs at the enemy VTOL.
The AV-2's pilot received a rude shock when he spotted a trio of smoke trails reaching out for him. He rammed the control stick left and dove for the ground while ejecting flares. Two of the incoming missiles lost lock and veered for the flares. The third stayed on him and hit his VTOL right next to the port wingtip mounted engine pod. The engine pod was sheared off completely by the warhead detonation. Losing power on one side, the asymmetric thrust rolled his aircraft violently to the left as it dropped into the trees. The AV-2 landed on its left wing, snapping it off completely before it rolled over and crashed into the ground nose first. The cockpit was crushed in by the impact.
The pilot of the first Kestrel saw what happened to his wingman and decided against another pop-up. He called in the enemy position, then maneuvered north along Hill 238.
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Kenny_Naboo
Marshal
Pitch Black
Joined: January 11, 2010
Posts: 3823
From: LobsterTown
| Posted: 2012-05-23 03:31
At that moment, another threat was emerging on the ridge of Hill 238. A few hours back, the nine BT-55 Tarturuses from the 'missing' ICC tank company had maneuvered south and taken a parallel eastern approach to the main formation. Their initial orders had been to skirt the northern approach behind Hills 238 and 237 and attack their objective, Antioch from two sides in a pincer movement. The ambush on their comrades had changed the battle plan.
The commander of the second ICC tank company had decided to scale Hill 238 from the traversable western end and take up firing positions on the ridge. From there, they would have a clear shot perpendicular to 237's ridgeline. They would catch the Uggies in the flanks.
And this was exactly what the Tarturus platoon commander saw when his tank cleared the ridgeline. Just a couple hundred meters to his right, one of their Kestrels slammed into the ground after being taken out by enemy SAMs. Straight ahead, he could see the enemy tanks in disarray as their smokescreen subsided in the wind.
Spread out line abreast on the ridgeline, he ordered the company to engage at will as soon as they had a line of sight. The BT-55 Tarturus was almost a replica of the Heimdall. It was angular and blocky. It was heavily armored. It was covered in adaptive camo tiles. It had a coaxially mounted gatling gun next to the main cannon. It even had a pulse laser for PD work. But the similarities ended there. Equipped with two twin-rail ATGM launchers on both sides of its turrets, and more ominously, twin 130mm gauss main cannons on its turret, it actually mounted more raw firepower than the Heimdall.
Tarturus Lead gave the order for his gunner to take aim at one of the three remaining Heimdalls in Platoon 3. The gunner lased the target and got a range reading of 2100 meters. The fire-control computer adjusted the heading and elevation of the gun before firing. This time, both cannons fired simultaneously, sending 2 hypersonic slugs on its way towards the Heimdall. The other tanks began acquiring and opening fire on their own targets once they got into position. More gauss slugs and ATGMs took flight.
The crew of Heimdall 3-3 didn't even know what killed them. One moment, they were scanning the skies for more gunships. The next, they were dead. The two slugs struck the Heimdall in the forward and rear part of the hull at almost the same time. The huge UGTO behemoth was completely flipped over by the colossal impact, its right half partially disintegrated by the energy of the dual gauss slug hits.
Heimdall 3-2 died next, followed by Rapier 4-3. The Crusaders were situated at a lower elevation, under the max depression angle of the Tarturus' guns and were untargeted.
Further up the ridgeline, Oxley ordered everyone to pop more smoke and fall back to the southeast at max speed. They were sitting ducks up here. The only way out was down into the valley in the direction of Antioch. They had to get under the ridgeline and out of the Tarturus' gunsights.
The immobilized Heimdall 1-3 was hit before anyone could react. Hit by two rounds, the entire turret was torn off in a cataclysmic explosion and flung towards Heimdall 1-2. The broken, burning turret smacked into the side of 1-2's turret and sheared off the commander's gatling gun. The surviving tanks began retreating to the east under the cover of their smoke.
Hendrickson had ordered his men to take cover in the trenches the moment the first Rapier was blown apart. Rapier 4-1 popped smoke and did an about face, running to the east after Platoon 1.
Quentin was hysterical when he saw the Rapier maneuvering away. He scaled the trench walls and began running after the retreating IFV, screaming at it to wait for him. Hendrickson shouted at Quentin to get back into cover, but the fool was having none of it.
A barrage of unguided rockets came flying in from the north. They impacted around the Rapiers. 4-2 couldn't go anywhere with its engine taken out. It swung its turret north and acquired the returning Kestrel gunship, engaging it with its autocannon. It proved to be futile. The Kestrel was simply too fast for it, dodging the incoming fire and then launching another salvo of unguided rockets at 4-2. This time the salvo hit home and blew the Rapier away to kingdom come.
Quentin was running past 4-2 when the rockets hit. He was thrown about 30 feet sideways from where he was, the force of the multiple explosions flipping him over several times. He landed hard before cartwheeling into a trench. Breaking his leg and back, and bleeding from a dozen fragment wounds, he would die a few minutes later from blood loss.
Kendall ordered Abby to run west for lower ground as Garcia swung the turret right towards the Kestrel and engaged it with the coaxial gatling. They were in a bad position now. They couldn't go east as that would put them in the Tarturus' line of fire. They couldn't go south as the Confederate's main force was counterattacking. And they sure as hell couldn't go north with that gunship in their way. West was the only option at the moment. And it wasn't a very good one either.
Crusader 2-3 overtook 2-4 on the left and followed suit in firing at the enemy VTOL. The Kestrel took a few hits but managed to shrug it off and dodge the rest. It then turned its attention towards the two hovertanks.
_________________
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Kenny_Naboo
Marshal
Pitch Black
Joined: January 11, 2010
Posts: 3823
From: LobsterTown
| Posted: 2012-05-23 03:32
Hendrickson ordered the troopers to head west in the trenches. With most of the IFVs gone, they had no ride out of here. So the best bet was to get under the enemy's gun. Go west and scatter, said his contingency plan. But he still had to deal with that damned gunship out there. He grabbed the comm set and his assault rifle as he headed west down the trenches. As he did, he dialed in to HQ air.
"Henhouse, Aardvark, come in, over!", he repeated the call as he ran through the trenches. Henhouse acknowledged a few seconds later.
Hendrickson continued, "We have hostile armor on western ridge of Hill 238. Also, one bandit, ID Alpha Victor Two veetol about one klick north of Hill 237, low. Request priority prosecute, over". Henhouse rogered the request. Another explosion rang our above him as more unguided rockets landed in the area. He looked at his watch; 1110 hours. Those A-34s should be overflying the area soon.
"Aardvark, Henhouse. Roger. We have a flight of Panthers enroute to RTB. Redirecting them to your posit, over", Henhouse replied.
Crusader 2-3 was running west along the ridgeline when a couple of unguided rockets caught it on the right side just ahead of the turret. The rockets didn't particularly cause it any major damage, but their detonations caused the tank to roll violently to the left and dip. The left forward edge of the Crusader hit the ground and dug in at over 50 miles an hour.
"Frak me...", Abby opened her eyes wide in shock as she watched the rear end of 2-3 rise up into the air, exposing its hover thrusters to her sight. She pulled back hard on the sticks and slewed the tank to the right to avoid colliding into the flipping Crusader.
As 2-3 went vertical nose first into the ground, her hover-thrusters added to her forward momentum, causing the Crusader to dig in further and flipping it end over end. The hovertank completed a 270 degree frontal flip and landed on its aft end, smashing in the rear thruster ports and then bouncing up into the air again. It continued flipping nose to tail twice more before landing sideways and rolling down the slope on its side. The main gun snapped off as the tank completed its third revolution, the turret coming loose and detaching from the hull on the fourth. The gunner and commander were thrown out of the hull and onto the ground. The gunner landed clear of the tank with relatively minor injuries. The commander was far less lucky as the tank rolled over him, crushing him into pulp before continuing on its tumble and coming to rest upright a hundred feet away. The battered remains of its turret lay a further forty feet downslope. The tank driver popped the forward hatch and crawled out of the wreck, dazed and injured.
"Aardvark, Henhouse, chicks incoming one mike, out." Hendrickson radioed the platoon commanders to inform them of the incoming air support. One minute.
The lead A-34 already had the gunship painted on radar. Dividing his four ship flight into two elements, the flight leader ordered Panthers 3 and 4 to go after the armor. Panther 2 stayed on his wing. Besides the gunship in his sights, there were two other bandits in close formation approaching low and slow about four klicks west of Hill 238. The system IDed them as more Kestrel VTOLs.
Breaking through the low clouds just 3 klicks north of Hill 238, Panther 1's particle cannons spat out blue-white death at the AV-2. The Kestrel came apart in midair. Panther 2 locked on to the other Kestrels and launched a Phoenix missile at the lead VTOL. The missile took only 5 seconds to reach them.
Designed primarily for use against capital ships in space, it was ineffective against fast moving aerospace fighters. But VTOLs were slow moving things; fragile, slow moving things. The Phoenix also had a sizeable warhead yield. Exploding when it was about fifty feet from the lead Kestrel, the enormous blast radius took out both VTOLs at the same time. They fell burning into the valley with as little grace as a dropped rock.
The air threat removed, Panthers 3 and 4 began their attack run on the ICC tank formation. With only guns available, the two fighters strafed the tank formation along the ridge in a north to south run.
The ICC tanks were suddenly pelted by a hail of particle cannon fire as they were trying to search for targets in the UGTO smokescreen. However, the cannons on the fighters were relatively ineffective against the Tarturus' heavy armor. The fighters broke off after two passes, managing only to damage the tracks on a couple of the ICC tanks.
[ This Message was edited by: Kenny_Naboo[+R] on 2012-05-23 04:09 ]
_________________
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Kenny_Naboo
Marshal
Pitch Black
Joined: January 11, 2010
Posts: 3823
From: LobsterTown
| Posted: 2012-05-23 03:33
Down in the valley, the ICC main body had regrouped with the remnants of the other mechanized company that had engaged the 94th the night before. Bolstered by the Tarturus company's arrival, they launched another offensive for Hill 237.
Hendrickson was dialing in to HQ Air, "Henhouse, this is Aardvark. Our posit is about to get overrun. Requesting for air support, over." He had spotted the regrouping Confederates emerging once again from the tree line. It looked like they were playing for all the marbles this time.
"Aardvark, Henhouse. Roger your transmission. We have one Ferret in the vicinity of Antioch. Will redirect VTOL over your posit. Five mikes out. Over."
Hendrickson shrugged. A Ferret was a scout VTOL. It would only be lightly armed and wouldn't be able to do squat against the heavy tanks on 238. He could only hope that it was armed with at least a couple of ATGMs to deal with some of the bad guys in the valley.
Abby had stopped their Crusader next to the wrecked 2-3 to pick up the surviving driver and gunner. As the two survivors were madly scrambling into the turret hatch, a gauss cannon round hit the ground only 30 feet away. Garcia rotated the turret towards the tree line, taking aim at a Heca only a klick away. He fired, killing the ICC tank as Kendall closed the top hatch after the two had climbed in.
"Move! Move! Go, Go, Go!", Kendall screamed at Abby. She didn't have to be told twice. The Crusader accelerated hard just as another round slammed into the ground where they had been just a couple of seconds before. A laser warning tone sounded, indicating a laser lock on their tank. Kendall launched their last salvo of smoke grenades as Abby swerved the HT-7 into a scything left turn. An ATGM screamed past the Crusader on the right and slammed into the ground a hundred feet ahead.
"Frak, that was close", Abby thought as she reefed the tank into a hard right turn. Tracers were flying past them through the smokescreen behind. She could hear the pinging of those that were hitting their hull. She steered to the southeast towards Platoon 1 as indicated on her nav display.
"We're outta smoke, Abs. I hope you can dance...", Kendall shouted out. Garcia had rotated the turret aft. "Target tank, 5 o'clock!", Kendall designated a target for him. Garcia put the Heca in his sights and fired. The shot hit the tank square in the front of the turret, blowing its main gun off the mounts. Garcia took aim at an IFV just next to the disabled ICC tank and squeezed the trigger again, but the shot went wide as Abby swerved the Crusader to the right again.
"Goddammit Abby, hold still so I can shoot!", he screamed out.
"Sure thing, you dumbass. D'ya want me to paint a crosshair on our ass while we're at it?", Abby gritted her teeth as she swung the Crusader to the left again. In her rear view panel, she noticed that the smokescreen was dissipating. A smoke trail came streaking in through the smoke directly at them and she swerved hard to the right.
The ATGM hit their Crusader at a glancing angle and veered off into the ground next to them, exploding. The explosion momentarily lifted the tank up on the left side, threatening to roll them into the ground. Abby corrected by slamming the left stick forward, countering the roll and steering to the right.
"No...", she breathed as the right side of the hull raked the ground, threatening to dig in and flip them over. She reversed her turn, lifting the right side and causing the tank to slide left. The Crusader seemed to mimic a car doing a powerslide maneuver before correcting itself again. Garcia rotated the turret around again as Abby accelerated and steered left. More incoming fire, as a barrage of tracer rounds pinged off the hull. Garcia kept his gunsights on a Heca and fired. The particle cannon bolt ripped across the battlefield and slammed into the turret base. The commander's hatch was blown off the top of the turret as a gout of flame gushed out from an internal explosion.
[ This Message was edited by: Kenny_Naboo[+R] on 2012-05-23 03:43 ]
_________________
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Kenny_Naboo
Marshal
Pitch Black
Joined: January 11, 2010
Posts: 3823
From: LobsterTown
| Posted: 2012-05-23 03:33
Meanwhile, Hendrickson had gotten three of his ATGM armed troops to take aim at the regrouping ICC main force reentering the valley. Two of his men were already aiming their ATGMs at the lead antenna tank, while the remaining guy put a trailing IFV in his sights. At his signal, they lased their targets and fired.
The command Heca's gunner had Kendall's Crusader in his sights. The driver was good, he had to admit. But he had them this time. Time to say goodnight, Uggie. As he lased the Heca, the laser warning indicator buzzed. The tank commander popped smoke and screamed for evasive. The gunner thumbed the trigger down just as the driver began swerving. Then the panel on his left exploded and his world turned to black.
"Score two!", Hendrickson patted the trooper beside him on his shoulder as the antenna tank's turret was thrown thirty feet into the air by the force of the explosion. The IFV behind it vanished in a gout of black and orange as it got hit in the rear by their other ATGM. They began reloading their tubes for another shot.
The command Heca had gotten its shot off just before it died, but it was off by just about a degree or so because of the driver's last minute evasive maneuver. Trailing plasma at Mach 9, the gauss round ripped across the battlefield towards Kendall's tank.
Kendall had spotted the antenna tank again and was about to order Garcia to engage it when he saw a muzzle flash followed by its turret being blown off. Right after that, there was a loud metallic twanging as something hit their tank hard.... very hard. He was thrown to the side as the tank was slapped hard to the left. The engines cut out and his head was thrown forward into the panel as they crashed into the ground.
The gauss slug had struck Kendall's Crusader at a glancing angle ahead of the turret at the right dorsal edge of the main hull. Most of the slug had deflected upwards. Still, the impact tore a huge portion of armor and hull off the forward part of the tank and knocked out the HT-7's systems. The engines cut out at nearly 60 miles per hour and the tank belly flopped into the ground, bouncing and skipping across the terrain until it ploughed to a stop.
Oxley had circled back along the southern slope of 237, regrouping his Heimdalls and ordering them to fire back at the ICC main group. He had seen one of his Crusaders dodging enemy fire and fighting back as it was retreating towards his position. That Crusader had just been hit and destroyed or disabled by enemy fire, and there was nothing that he could do for them! The second enemy tank force on 238 had them pinned under the ridgeline. All he could do was to shoot at the main force and keep them from closing in. His gunner fired and killed an IFV two klicks away.
Abby was semi-conscious and bleeding from a gash on the forehead, having had her face slammed into the instrument console. Behind her, Garcia was groaning in pain from a couple of cracked ribs. He had been thrown forward into the control yokes when they ploughed into the terrain. Kendall and 2-3's crew were on the compartment floor, still alive and relatively unhurt but very much dazed like everyone else.
She shook out of her stupor and scanned her consoles. Everything was out. Initiating restart procedures, she began cycling the APUs to restart the ion engines but nothing worked. Cursing and swearing, she tried restarting the tank again. They had to get moving quickly. An ICC slug could have their name on it any second now.
What they didn't realize was that the ICC force was now ignoring them and concentrating their efforts on Oxley's group. From the ICC's viewpoint, the hit on their Crusader appeared to be a kill; or at least the gauss slug impact did. The gash in the hull was still burning and smoking from ignited urdanium fragments.
"Everyone OK?", Kendall asked everyone as he pulled himself up.
"No, I'm dead", Garcia winced as he held on to his left ribcage. "Turret control's out, laser's out, power's out. The main gun is out till we get the engine back online."
"Frak this crap. Engines are down. APUs down. We're dead in the water", Abby reported in.
"Wait... hear that?", 2-3's gunner interrupted. They could hear and feel a low rumbling surrounding their tank. Kendall peered out through his commander's cupola periscope.
"ICC", Kendall hissed. "They're converging on us." We're they about to be captured? The rumbling and metallic clanging of tank tracks, accompanied by the booms of cannon firing surrounded their disabled tank.
Then an explosion rang out. For a moment, Kendall thought that they were dead. Only the sight of an exploding ICC IFV nearby through his periscope view convinced him otherwise. He then realized that the Confederates were somehow leaving them for dead, still advancing towards the rest of the 94th. Maybe lying still for now was their best bet at surviving this.
"Abby, get the APUs restarted. Just keep trying, but don't fire up the engines yet. They're going past us. Probably think we're dead. Garcia, is the main gun in good shape? If we can get the engines running we'll work the turret manually", Kendall ordered.
"Gun looks OK, boss. Just got to get that engine started back up and I can shoot.", Garcia replied.
_________________
... in space, no one can hear you scream.....
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Kenny_Naboo
Marshal
Pitch Black
Joined: January 11, 2010
Posts: 3823
From: LobsterTown
| Posted: 2012-05-23 03:34
Hendrickson had seen 2-4 getting hit and assumed the worst. Where the hell was that Veetol? He looked around, trying to see if he could spot anything. He changed frequencies to the air channel and began calling for the Ferret. Twenty seconds later, the Ferret responded.
"Aardvark, Sparrow. Am approaching your posit. Overfly in about 2 mikes. Advise if there are SAMs in the target area. Over."
Hendrickson responded, "Sparrow, Aardvark. No enemy SAM vehicles present. Man portable SAMs may be present. Repeat, man portable SAMs possible. ICC main force in the valley between 237 and 239. Another tank force on ridgeline of 238, over."
Sparrow acknowledged and signed out. The pilot decided to skim the ridge of the northern Hill 239 to be on the safe side. The Ferret was a stealth VTOL, designed for scout missions and surgical strikes deep behind enemy lines. But stealth didn't mean that he was completely undetectable, especially by man-portable IR homing SAMs.
Skimming the treetops at over 400 knots, he rotated his engines to the vertical position upon reaching the southern slope of 239 and hugged the slope as he ascended towards the ridgeline. Popping up past the ridgeline just enough to expose the roof mounted sensor/camera pod, he scanned the valley.
The ICC main force was steadily closing in on the 94th's position. Oxley's remaining tanks were already headed East, with their turrets facing aft and firing away as they fought a retreating battle.
Scanning the valley, Sparrow ascertained that there were roughly thirty plus ICC vehicles advancing at the retreating UGTO forces towards Antioch. Moving slightly west, he also detected the other tanks atop Hill 238 providing fire support for those in the valley. His recon completed, Sparrow radioed home and reported the positions of the enemy forces.
"Sparrow, Henhouse, designate enemy posit. Fire mission commencing in 20 seconds," his comms came alive. He designated a spot in the valley about three hundred feet in front of the lead ICC vehicles and hit the commit button. That action transmitted the grid coordinates back to HQ. He hoped that he had estimated their position in the next in the 30 seconds correctly.
Meanwhile in Crusader 2-4, Abby had managed to restart the APUs after repeated recycling. "APUs up and running. We better get the engines started before we lose it", she reported.
Kendall thought about it for a moment, then replied, "OK Abs, when I give the word, start up the engines then turn west and run as fast as we can. And dance while you're at it. Garcia, shoot and take out the nearest tank while we're getting airborne. Once we're running, continue shooting aft. We'll run for the base of 238 then hightail it north around the back of 237. Get ready."
At his command, Abby fired up the engines and push the throttles forwards. The engines began spooling up. It would still take about 10 seconds to hover. Garcia, getting power back to his turret controls, rotated his turret towards the rear end of the nearest Heca about 300 meters ahead. At this range, he didn't need to lase the target. He squeezed the trigger and let loose a particle cannon shot into the vulnerable rear of the BT-65's turret.
The shot penetrated the weak rear armor and caused an internal explosion, dislodging the main gun from its mount in a huge explosion. Their engines finally coming to full power, Abby lifted the Crusader back into the air and pivoted it about.
"Punching it!", she shouted. The aft thrusters lit up and accelerated the tank forwards. The Confederates were slow to react, unable to ascertain where the shot came from.
Sparrow was about to break off when he spotted a wrecked Crusader amongst the ICC main force firing a shot and lifting off. The shot took out the nearest enemy tank as the Crusader spun around and began moving off in the opposite direction. Two of the trailing enemy tanks began to slow down to track the Crusader. Advancing his throttle, Sparrow popped up over the ridge, nosed over and dove right down into the valley.
"We've got company! Evasive!", Kendall shouted down at Abby as the Crusader veered to the right.
“You think?!”, Abby replied as she slammed the control sticks the other way. Tracer rounds pinged off the hull and an ATGM whooshed past them into the ground a hundred feet ahead. Garcia was struggling to aim the main gun at the two ICC tanks that were turning around and targeting them. His turret stabilization was shot. His laser rangefinder was out. All he had left was dead reckoning. He centered one of the Hecas in his sights and fired. The shot went wide.
The laser warning buzzed. One of the Hecas had a lock on them. Kendall braced for the worst. They had had a good run, but they were out of luck this time. Suddenly both Hecas blew up as smoke trails lanced into them. There was a whoosh as an aircraft overflew the area.
[ This Message was edited by: Kenny_Naboo[+R] on 2012-05-23 04:24 ]
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... in space, no one can hear you scream.....
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