Koban 4: Shattered Worlds
Page 16
The gradual gathering of clan forces closer to every strong opposing human position, with massed truckloads of light weapons and supplies, suggested multiple lightning fast offenses. However, a clue to this action being only a diversion was described to them by Nabarone, when he pointed out that the assaults were not being backed by much of the heavier equipment, which would be needed if they intended actually to hold all of the new territory taken, against human counter attacks. The waiting empty clanships were another clue.
There were few of the heavy plasma batteries close to the eight major fronts, which were normally used to blast attacking human ships and space planes out of orbit. However, there was a massing of the highly mobile light plasma battery carts, and numerous armored transports to move warriors and ammunition safely through artillery barrages faster. The bulk of their heaviest assault weapons and half of all their mini-tanks were being pulled back close to the periphery of a thirty-mile radius circle of heavy plasma cannons and lasers placed at the center of the conquered territory, which had massive orbital strike capability. Virtually all of the empty clanships were now parked within that strong defensive circle, which was ready to protect their mass departure.
The Krall were not adept at subtly, preferring the “I’m about to attack, so try to stop me” mode of offense. They probably believed that placing a third to half of all their major combat material just outside the central defensive ring, near their empty clanships, didn’t look suspicious. It certainly wasn’t suggestive to the average warriors and sub leaders, who had no notion that a partial withdrawal was being planned. The Krall only pulled significant forces from a planet once the enemy was crushed.
Even the ordinary warriors knew this attack wasn’t designed to crush opposition on all of Poldark, but was for the purposes of punishing humanity for attacking Krall planets. That was the truth, but only in small part.
The clan sub leaders for this offense already had received specified limits of how far they would be allowed to push back the human armies, but within that limit they could inflict as much damage and death as they wished. There would be no designed pauses, to allow the enemy to regroup and preserve forces for later warrior culling. The humans would simply have to replace higher losses from their armies this time. No human captives needed to be taken alive for painful information extraction. It was always a distasteful task for any warrior to capture rather than to kill an opponent, and any human of any age was an opponent.
Small to midsized clans were being granted the unusual honor of placement at the forefront of every attacking force. Actually, that was so the major clans, those that had earned the right to participate in the new invasion of the next human world, could quickly disengage from battle and race to board the waiting clanships.
Kanpardi had ordered that the “disengage” command be phrased as a charge, not a withdrawal. A charge designed to rapidly and efficiently form a new invasion task force, to conduct a glory filled historic new invasion, against a much more heavily populated human world. They would be told this would be a difficult, risk-filled action with much fighting. The fact that the unsuspecting world had only a light defending force, due to its presumed secure location closer to the Hub worlds, actually meant there initially would be considerable human slaughter. There would be relatively little culling of warriors at the start of the invasion, at least until humans shifted additional fighting forces to the chosen planet.
Caldwell suddenly stiffened, as he studied the visual graphics on the large monitors of each of the eight major fronts the Krall had established over time. There were a significant number of midsized cities on the outer portions of the invaded largest continent, which did not face increased enemy forces. Apparently, this was because once the Krall reached the number eight at the largest cities that this suited their natural bias for that number.
There were red pinpoints, each of which represented two hands of octets of Krall warriors, with different red symbols for the types of equipment used to support them. A small red beetle shape represented Dragon units a small red lightning bolt for plasma batteries, a bent worm-like symbol was for a group of the articulated armored troop carriers, and so forth.
There were eight large clusters of differently and multicolored pinpoints and equipment shapes for human forces, adjacent to each cluster of red, which easily outnumbered the red pinpoints. If the Krall’s fighting ability wasn’t known to an observer, it would appear the human forces had them surrounded and were poised to crush them. In reality, the five to one advantage in numbers could only slow the Krall, if they wanted to advance.
Thad and Sarge had been told that the multicolored symbols represented company or platoon level strength, depending on the military branch represented. Army, Marine, Rangers, or special ops forces could be depicted in other tints of base colors if requested. The colors represented each one of the eight human armies that faced the brunt of the Krall attacks, with some intermingling of colors and forces where they overlapped.
What had drawn Caldwell’s attention was the previously motionless graphics at the leading edge of the Krall lines. They had suddenly acquired vector arrows, indicating speed, and direction, which was all pointed towards the various human force pinpoints.
“It’s started.” He told them unnecessarily. “Now our artillery starts. We mostly held it back because they were in revetments where they gathered, and largely under covered positions. Their stationary counter battery fire systems would also have been more accurate before they started moving those units. Our AIs are still better than their computers at randomizing our mobile batteries when they fire on the move. However, they do counter any rocket attacks the most effectively. That’s why we generally stay with low trajectory ballistic projectiles, to avoid their most effective defensive laser fire.
“Many of our newest antipersonnel munitions release self-guided projectiles that seek weak spots in their body armor. Unfortunately, they changed to better and much heavier powered armor a few months ago, so elbow, knee, wrist and ankle joints are the primary points we program to hit now. A thermite projectile can melt and spot-weld a joint if it’s not knocked away quickly. If a joint freezes up, novice warriors sometimes foolishly detach that sleeve or leg section for freedom of movement. With the next wave of shells, we create a bunch of slower, one armed or one leg hopping Krall novices, which are still dangerous, but not nearly as much. We have new munition designs under test for penetrating this armor, but it hasn’t been deployed here in quantity yet.”
“You can’t blow their heads off through the faceplates? It’s what we were doing a year ago.” Sarge wondered.
“They don’t have a face plate now. The helmet is similar to that of your Torki designed armor, with an internal view screen, and it is even thicker than yours is. Their firing accuracy is still very good, and they mostly use the same hand held plasma rifles, with some equipped with forearm mounted short barrel versions, for close-in fighting. They don’t have your armor’s small Trap Fields for tachyon power, however, and they need frequent power pack swaps in a heated fight. They have finally copied our grenades, and they carry perhaps eight to sixteen each. They are electronically simpler than our models, with fewer booby trap options than ours have, such as no proximity detector to sense a human target. A Krall doesn’t have the disposition to lay a trap and wait anyway. Some of the sadistic shits pull off a captured man’s helmet, and shove a grenade down inside and watch him go.”
Thad thought a moment. “We’ll be facing these new suits soon. I’d like to test our equipment against theirs, and bring several relatively undamaged suits home for the Torki and Raspani to study.”
“Raspani? I thought they had been bred to a near animal state.” Caldwell was curious.
“We found millions of ancient normal Raspani minds that were in hiding, recorded on a special chip, located on one of the worlds that we raided. The Torki slaves there had saved the chip, embedded inside a Raspani skull. It’s normally an electronic mental assistanc
e device, similar to what the Torki use, but this one was expanded to hold personalities of several million minds. Clusters of those minds are gradually being transferred to new chips, placed in the brains of non-sentient Raspani. We hope to have some technological advances from their scientists and engineers to share with you in the near future. Even better than what we gave you from the Torki and Prada.”
Caldwell shook his head at the ever-changing universe the Kobani were finding. “You keep acquiring some strange allies. Well, about samples of the armor. I’ll ask a spec ops team to bring you one of the new Krall suits. We have some of your full gene mod boys using your style stealth, located behind enemy lines now.”
Sarge recalled the last fight he was engaged in, here on Poldark, when he lost his left arm while wearing standard armor. “I wonder what it’s like for our troops, facing this new Krall armor.”
****
The infantry captain was watching the Krall advance, via the various spy bots and riverside cameras they had planted. He spoke into his suit com link to the artillery commander. “Captain Franklin, start an anti-personnel barrage on the far side of the river, and walk it towards the river, staying behind those armored transports in the lead. We want to catch those warriors on foot coming out of the revetments behind the trucks. The depleted uranium pellets don’t hurt their new heavy armor much, but they ruin the hell out of a plasma rifle, and the other personal weapons they attach to their suits. Their closest rifle and power pack replacements are the ones carried in the backs of the transports they’re following. At least that’s what the spy bots showed us.”
“Captain,” responded the voice at the other end, “I have the some of the new armor penetrator rounds. A few of those could get past the laser defenses to take out some of the armored transports. They’ll kill a mini tank.” Implying they could also drive their molten metal jets into the interior of the double segmented heavy trucks.
“I was told those are in limited supply, arriving only after we learned about this continent wide assault.”
“True,” Franklin acknowledged, “but I have a couple of thousand rounds, Captain.”
“Thanks, but we should save those for actual tanks and our withdrawal. Most of the heavy transports in the lead aren’t going to make it across the river anyway, at least not at Novi Sad. Our bridges were mined for this day over a month ago. That’s why we left them standing, and asked you not to drop rounds on them. Until they bring up their own portable bridge segments or use clanships, the bulk of the leading warriors will have to walk underwater through the mud, or use shuttles to cross over after we take the bridges down. Their replacement rifles and closest ammunition supply will be at the bottom of the river in those transports.”
“Sounds like a plan. When you pick up movement under water, if you designate where on the grid, I can drop some HE rounds to ruin their day.”
“Great. I’ll have my corporal call you with any underwater detector reports. We have sensors already deployed. It’ll be good to return the favor, since they made rivers and shorelines death traps for our divers.”
****
Photok didn’t like driving an armored transport. The two batteries of rooftop plasma cannons were operated from the two rear compartments by other warriors, so as just the driver, he had no means actually to attack the enemy. He could only earn status points from kills and as a driver that would only happen if he managed to run over and crush one of the humans. Not a very pleasurable or personal kill, and not very probable.
He wasn’t even allowed to race ahead of the leading wave of the assault, to meet the enemy sooner. The front four ranks of transports were to reach each of the seven bridges over the river simultaneously, to prevent human plasma fire from concentrating on isolated trucks rushing ahead. Depending on bridge width, they were to drive four to six transports abreast, in ranks four deep, as they drove onto the bridges, then suddenly increase their speed to maximum when they reached the bridges. They would sweep any resistance aside with this fast assault, and then fan out and hold their positions on the far side, to prevent humans from trying to retake the bridges or to destroy them. The hated artillery couldn’t seriously hurt the transports, or bring the sturdy bridges down before the majority of the advance forces were well established on the far bank.
Photok looked to his right, at the other two armored warriors of his clan riding with him in the cab. The new heavier suits were so bulky that only the three of them fit where four would have sat previously. The three present in the cab seemed wrong somehow to Photok, who always thought in terms of full hands of warriors.
The other two held their rifles between their legs, butts on the floor, while he needed two hands to operate the steering and throttle. He glanced down at his own rifle in the pocket slot on the left door. When he stopped on the far side of the bridge, he intended to leap out with that rifle and seek some humans to kill. His minor clan had seldom been in the front of an assault force, and they had never been the first to engage the enemy. He vowed he would be among the first of his clan to meet the humans this time.
The warning relayed from the console system told them that projectiles were inbound. The transports were all linked to reports from the laser defense systems, and the ballistic tracks of thousands of rounds of inbound artillery were displayed on the console screen. The precise tracking for ballistic projectiles was less effective for the laser defense system, for some reason, and the humans had learned to avoid guided munitions in mass bombardments. The defense system only killed a bit over half of these projectiles this time. However, it would have destroyed eight out of ten if they had been fired in a higher arc. A flatter trajectory kept them below the defense system longer.
His transport’s forward armor was in place, and should easily absorb the impacts without serious damage. He and his clan mates were surprised when the rounds passed over their vehicles and airburst at head height well behind them. Instead of attacking the lead transports, the enemy was after the more exposed warriors on foot behind them.
Photok, being a typical Krall, felt anger that they had refused to consider him enough of a threat to try to kill him first. He felt no concern for those caught in the hail of depleted uranium pellets, and the occasional smart munition that sought the more vulnerable limb joints. The exposed warriors also wore the heavier armor, which had been pulled from ages old stockpiles and refurbished by their slave workers. This bulky armor had only been used in unregulated interclan battles from thousands of years ago and preserved in airless protection in old orbital battle stations. They had been produced at a time when preserving skilled warrior numbers had seemed advisable, when their Botolian opponents were fighting them with weapons that fired collapsed matter pellets. Its revival now was a testament to this new enemy, not for their individual fighting ability, but of their smart weapons.
There would be relatively few losses from these antipersonnel artillery shells, unless one happened to detonate directly next to a warrior. Even then, the armor might not be breached, but the shock transmitted through the armor itself could kill or disable. Many warriors would shed their heavy armor once they were within the populated human nest areas, aware that human fighters seldom risked killing their own people with artillery. A weakness that the Krall did not have.
From the sounds of rounds passing over, and the vibrations and thuds of the concussions from well behind reaching them, it was apparent that their exposed clan mates were being hit hard.
“We will make the cowardly animals pay for those denied a chance to fight honorably.” He said this over the unit com frequency for the two octets in his transport. There would normally have been twice that number aboard, but the second compartment of the two-segmented vehicle was over half filled with charged power packs for plasma rifles, and many spare rifles. He suddenly realized that the warriors behind him would need those rifles and power packs, because the storm of pellets would surely damage many of the weapons they carried now.
Pressing a butt
on in his helmet with his long versatile purple tongue, he sent his own helmet’s view of the approaching bridge to each of the suit monitors of his two octets. They would pour out of two openings in the articulated joint between the two sections when they were parked on the far side of the bridge. They could start identifying targets and points to attack even as they crossed the bridge.
Zooming one part of his visor screen on the high human nest buildings across the river, with lights lit at the top levels, Photok saw moving figures outlined at curtained windows. Stupidly outlined by light from behind them, they had revealed their shadowed presence through the sight blocking fabric. This assault had obviously caught them by surprise, since the humans that did not know how to fight had not even had time to flee in panic, as they usually did in the face of Krall advances. A kill was a kill and satisfying, although the death of a human warrior ranked higher than what the enemy said was a civilian. An armored soldier was a multiple status point kill, but a room full of non-fighters could be killed quickly, and earn you more points in less time.
Arriving first, he intended to reach the top floors of the closest one of those buildings to score fast and easy points. He chose the one just to the right of the end of this bridge, of the seven identical large nests arrayed along the opposite riverfront. Perhaps he could even enter a second building if the artillery slowed his clan mates on foot for long enough. He would be across the bridge well ahead of them. He was on the roadway now, and had started to accelerate as he neared the point where the pavement sloped higher over the water. The tall nest buildings had revised his opinion of being a driver. He and his two octets would have first access to many kills as early arrivals, because once they delivered their resupply loads to the other side, they were free to hunt.