The PDF troopers at the rear of the column watched the last of the tanks continue ahead for almost another ten seconds, before the linked reaction registered on the rear drivers that the forward units were suddenly slamming on their brakes as the gaps between units suddenly decreased. It was enough. The rear choke point charges repeated the blasts just unleashed at the front. More thousands of tons of rock buried the rear dozen tanks under mounds of rubble. Nearly two miles of armored might was now trapped in a narrow steep walled valley, unable to move in either direction.
Lieutenant Jansky was still faced with almost 290 functional tanks that were clear of debris, with eight or ten others that could be cleared of rock in short order. In fact, the laser-armed units promptly started sweeping their scorching beams along the ridge top edges on each side. Several more, with Debilitater antennas tilted well back, swept tightly focused beams of invisible radiation at ridge tops. She noted that this didn’t happen until the tanks positioned below a beam’s aiming point had buttoned up their hatches, and the crews who had been poking their heads out of hatches had hurriedly donned their helmets as they sealed their tanks.
She warned her troopers. “The Ragnar have shielding against the Debilitater radiation, probably for the hulls of the tanks as well as their own body armor. It makes sense, if you intend to use that weapon and risk collateral exposure of your own troops. I want you observers to stay back, and use the cameras to keep watch on them. I don't want any of you testing out our mesh suits just to see if it works. Shit is hard to scrape out of those copper undies. They’ll be using lethal power, with narrow focused beams.”
Then a different defensive measure was taken by the tanks with the largest smoothbore guns. They fired timed fragmentation rounds that burst once they were above the rims of the rock walls, and far enough from the edges that the fragments didn’t rain back into the canyon. They were trying to keep anyone from standing above, and firing down at them. Not that Jansky’s command, a hundred PDF troops with plasma rifles, were a serious threat to one of these heavily armored beasts. Unless, they could concentrate multiple rifles firing on individual tanks, of course, which the Ragnar tactic was making extremely risky and unlikely.
It was soon apparent that many of the big guns were concentrating their fire over the ridge tops at the front chokepoint. There were rounds fired from nearly a mile back, the rounds arcing over a gentle curve in the road, to add their suppressive fire to an area they couldn’t even see.
A remote camera inside the windscreen of a beat up old truck revealed why. The Ragnar had many of the forward tank crews moving around outside the safety of their units, but they had activated their stealth. Their suit stealth had fooled the simple commercial video cameras, so their emergence had gone unnoticed. Jansky still didn’t know how many were outside working. It was the material they were working with, which revealed their presence. Rocks. They were moving rocks.
At first, she thought they were trying to extract trapped crews of tanks covered by the lighter boulders. Only they weren’t removing all of the debris, merely using their powered armor to shift it, and shove the rubble towards the back end of the least buried units at the rear of those covered.
It was the falling rocks that she’d first spotted, and realized it wasn’t the natural settlement of the piles of rocks, or the buried tanks trying to pull free. The steadily increasing mounds of smaller rocks, immediately behind the last two partially covered tanks that provided the clue she needed. They were building a rock ramp over the backs of their buried units, and leveling out the piles on top as best they could of those fully covered. They intended to drive over them, when the ramp slope was long and gradual enough.
The notion she might find a way to talk to the Ragnar commander in charge here, to convince him into surrendering was no longer an option. Not if he had a way to extricate most of his armor and continue to the spaceport. An unpalatable and grizzly alternative was now the only remaining action available to her. It had been their secondary plan if they couldn’t trap the column here, a method to deliver as much damage as possible. The backup threat, used against a fast moving string of tanks, might not have been very effective.
With the column of tanks trapped, she hadn’t seen the need. But, needs change with the circumstances. She made a general broadcast, to dozens of people posted along and above Ridgeway Road, kept well back from the edges and under cover against the expected orbital attacks that never came.
“Attention, all of you cocktail makers. Pull out your remotes. The enemy is going to try to break out by making a ramp of rock debris over the forward tanks, and climb over them. We’ll need to use your Molotov’s after all, but wait for my command so we all act together. We can't to do this by eyeball as they drive by now, so keep the hell away from the edge of the ridge top, and stay safe. Report to me when you’re poised to go hot.”
That’s a fitting phrase, Jansky thought, as the eighty-two people, civilians and PDF combined, called to verify their remotes were active and linked to their receivers. Her own device, unclipped from her suit’s waist showed green when the transmitter linked to the receiver.
A glance at the four mining supervisors with her showed three of theirs were green and ready. Poor Carly looked crestfallen. Her remote’s light had stayed red, unable to link. She’d been a workhorse, nearly a slave driver to her riggers, working on the walls alongside them, pushing them to get their bores done in time to set their charges. She’d even provided her own truck for this part of the operation.
Jansky handed the woman her own remote. “You folks worked your asses off today, and a lot of you provided your own vehicles, as I know you did Mam. You deserve a personal shot at these assholes.”
The woman beamed, the scar on her cheek pulling at the side of her mouth. Jansky hadn’t asked why she’d not had it surgically corrected, but noticed a number of riggers seemed to bear scars of their explosives setting trade as badges of experience, or perhaps of courage. The woman accepted the remote gratefully. “Thanks. My ride’s a piece of shit, but it was paid for. I wish I could give it a big send off, but I parked too close to the sign. It must have been crushed by the rock fall.”
Jansky’s suit AI placed a number in the corner of her helmet visor, showing that seventy-nine of eighty-two receivers had responded to their controllers. It would do.
“OK, you bartenders, on the count of three, light up your cocktails.”
She counted up, and on three, the four people with her, and seventy-five others along two miles of the road, all pressed their thumb buttons. Being a half mile from the narrow valley, the orange flashes of flames and billows of black smoke were seen fractionally before the thunder of explosions came in a steady rumble, as the sounds of the more distant detonations took longer to reach the formerly abandoned explosives storage bunker, turned command center today.
****
Culpa had just ordered the first tank of the next Legion to test the handmade ramp of rocks, to climb over the trapped, but still alive crews of the unlucky Legion, their twenty units forming the base of that ramp. There would be some hurried work on the other side, to prepare a smoother descent ramp, but they would soon be out of this trap. He’d just heard about the fate of Group 4, and the death and humiliation of commander Gontra. At least he’d been lucky after all with his target assignment, and the flat plains hadn’t proven to be the easy avenue for an attack after all. He was about to escape the human’s trap here, and they hadn’t even fired a shot at him, proving how helpless they really were. He didn’t intend to leave a structure standing or a human breathing when he was finished with this city, after securing the spaceport, of course.
Only his head was sticking out of the turret hatch now, and he kept his helmet sealed. Culpa was impatient to see firsthand when the units ahead of him, reaching around a gentle curve, started to move forward again. He frequently glanced up at the ridge tops above him, and from time to time saw one of his surveillance drones, as it crossed over the narro
w valley, scanning for enemy movement.
He happened to glance down at the battered human transportation vehicle next to him, parked against the rock wall. It appeared to have room for perhaps four to six of the smaller aliens, and the transparent windows were open, or had been removed. Not that there was room for more than one of the aliens inside now, as a driver. It held large rubbery containers on the seats, which his technicians told him were simple fuel containers, which held some sort of highly viscous petroleum product. These primitive morons apparently still used low energy dirty fossil fuels to operate their personal vehicles.
Although, now that he recalled his earlier actions concerning similar vehicles, most of those roadblock cars he’d driven over or smashed aside had each contained the dense chest sized armored steel housings, which appeared similar to many alien designs he’d seen of small fusion power units. Of course, those were made nearly indestructible, to hold the powerful magnets and plasma in a crush proof case. Not even the weight of a tank could rupture one of them, since if punctured when operating, they were explosively dangerous.
If the fossil fuel wasn’t for powering the beat up clunker, he wondered what it was used for. He couldn’t know this was material originally stockpiled for use against raids by a different alien species, and had absolutely no use as a fuel. It was too thick.
When a green light’s glow came from the dark interior, from below the rubber containers in the rear, he felt a sense of unease. There had been no signs of activity from any of the abandoned vehicles. The explanation soon arrived, although the human description of them as Molotov cocktail cars wouldn’t have meant anything to him, and he’d never heard of any petroleum product like napalm.
The flat sheet of the solid-state explosive under the containers on the rear seat detonated, rupturing them and igniting the highly combustible, sticky gelled substance, which spewed out of the open windows, and through the precut roof of the car as it easily blew off, coating the tank, its commander, and the units closest to him. The explosive sheet under the containers on the front seat had a detonator activated by heat, and seconds later, those containers contributed to the expanding inferno that engulfed six immobilized mechanized units in a sea of flames. There was some overlapping, as multiple simultaneous explosions along the length of column contributed to the conflagration, as seventy-nine contributors did their jobs. The three cars crushed under rocks held ruptured napalm containers, even if their detonators were dead. Flames eventually found their way to them, and they also added to the conflagration, spreading flames under the tanks buried near them, as the napalm grew more fluid as it was heated.
The Ragnar in stealthed armor instantly became visible, turning into large and rapidly moving bipedal living torches. Their suits protected them from the heat for a time, but the smoke and heat images of their surroundings, at visible and infrared frequencies, provided no clue as to what direction they might run to get clear of the flames. They needed to find a clear place where they could try to scrape off the burning sticky substance, which was gradually converting their suits into articulated broiler ovens as the cooling systems were overwhelmed.
It became quite toasty along Ridgeway Road, and that unpleasant odor would linger for months. The apes inside the buried tanks didn’t all broil to death, but weeks later, their decaying odor eked out through the cracks of the hatches they tried to open. Some even made it out of their bottom hatches at the start, but had nowhere to go when the heat reached them. Of those that stayed buttoned up under the rocks, with only the limited consumables of a mechanized army in a hurry, their support forces left behind on foot, they couldn’t last long.
****
Thond addressed his two remaining Ground Force commanders, Hitok standing next to him, but linked to the other. “Commander Jithal, yours and Commander Hitok’s Groups are now absolutely vital to the invasion. The Commanders of Groups 3 and 4 rushed too quickly into closing and engaging this new enemy. They and most of their armor have been lost, although their infantry is intact, but they will fight without the benefit of the firepower of the Pillagers we expected to provide them.
“I admit that we, and most surprisingly the cautious Thandol, have underestimated this species. We shouldn’t have done so, because they did defeat the Krall in an incredibly short amount of time. We attributed that victory entirely to their discovery and use of the Olt’kitapi genetic codes, to take away use of the weapons the Krall inherited. We thought they won only because they had disarmed their foe. While there is some evidence and a degree of accuracy in that belief, they have now proven that it is also their uncanny ability to improvise, to adapt and react quickly to an attack. They use whatever material is at hand as weapons in ways that surprise us, using tactics and aggression that we have not encountered from any of the subservient species in the Empire.”
Jithal sought another reason for their plans going awry. “Sire, what of your discovery that the humans your fleet fought at their colony are uniquely physically enhanced? Do we face those types of humans here on the ground? Is that how Group 3 and 4 were defeated?”
“No, there is no evidence of their presence on the surface, but they are clearly involved in the battle being conducted over our heads. The infantry forces that remained behind when our armor moved ahead, have found the humans they encountered to be stronger than expected. Not our physical equal in strength, but they do react faster. Considering their smaller size, yet unexpected strength, I believe they evolved on a higher gravity world than we did.
“As you surely feel here, the gravity of this world is about five percent higher than on Tantor, but it is probably less than their own home world. We must cease underestimating them, and we need to consolidate our forces.
“I have ordered the infantry of Groups 3 and 4 to consolidate the territory immediately around their landers, and be prepared to board them to join with your two groups when we’re able to protect the Pounders in flight. Group 3 also has a small force of twenty-six Pillagers that escaped, which I have ordered to rejoin their infantry units.
“Our Hoths are presently providing air support for the four infantry landings, and have shot down a number of human atmospheric craft that tried to draw close for attacks or reconnaissance. The enemy craft were not space capable, and are inferior to a Hoth both in speed, handling, weapons, and do not employ stealth. The Hoths, in stealth mode, are apparently not easily detectible electronically, but we’ve learned there is a system used here that detects atmospheric turbulence. It’s how they are able to send missiles after any fast moving ship. Our stealth isn’t perfect enough that going slow helps us much either.”
Hitok added, “Like Commander Jithal, I have slowed my rapid movement towards the city and spaceport you assigned me to capture. We both have dispatched a Legion of lighter Pillagers ahead of our columns, with recon drones to scout the terrain. We hope to identify unusual looking defensive positions along our possible routes, or signs of ambushes and traps.”
Jithal was in agreement with his counterpart. “Knowledge of laser batteries being placed in pits and tipped to the side, allowing them to fire vertically at orbital targets, but also shoot horizontally at Gontra’s Pillagers, would have saved his force. He would never have spread out his armor in an exposed line, to be destroyed like the clay targets of an apprentice Ragoon’s rifle training. Those batteries were fixed in place. He could have split his column in a wide pincher long before they were in range, and attacked from the flanks where they could not aim.”
Listening to them, Thond reached a decision. “It’s true we need either one of the two targeted spaceports for basing our Spears, and time is vital. The four hundred Hoths already here will soon run out of missiles. Their lasers and plasma bolts will soon only be able to provide you close fire support and aerial surveillance. I’m going to bring in our other four hundred eighty birds to help you push ahead more quickly. They will escort the least damaged Pounders of all four groups, as they move closer to your armor.”
Hitok was concerned by a risk he perceived. “The Spears will be vulnerable, and perhaps destroyed before they have time to launch all of their Hoths.”
“Yes. If they operated as they normally do.” Thond countered. “I will order each of our eight Spears to attach fifty of their internally carried Hoths outside of their hulls, the same way we brought the additional ones when they Jumped from home. The remaining ten Hoths will be poised at pre-opened launch bays.
“The humans are not the only ones that can Jump ships into a raging space battle. Configured as I propose, the Spears can launch every one of their birds quicker, just as they released the fifty externally attached Hoths they carried here. The Spears will Jump away the instant their Hoths are clear. If they exit just above atmosphere, two carriers over each of our landing forces, their birds will descend immediately, to join up with our landers and infantry.
“Your own Group 1 and 2 infantry forces will fly as low and quickly as possible in atmosphere, to travel the short distance to join up with your armored columns. The infantry with no armor to join will remain with their landers, using the Hoths for air cover, and wait for us to provide a secure escort for the longer flights for them to join with you both.
Koban 6: Conflict and Empire Page 22