Not A Step Back | [1 BBT]

The SATRA troops were advancing, but at a cost. Systems of bunkers, trenches and tunnels were hard to break even with armored support, sometimes inaccessible for vehicles. AT missles and grenades were incoming from all sides. Some were specially designed to counter APS, which those combat vehicles were covered with. Heavy plasma guns, though less destructive than missles, weren’t affected by APS and the only thing in their way was armor. Mines and other traps were set off regularly.

Those that went into the trenches and tunnels, were forced to engage in brutal, close quarters combat. Botniak soldiers, characterised by the skulls they painted on their faces and lack of any standard uniforms, used trench guns, terrifying rifles firing a scattered mess of plasma, turning opponents into smoking swiss cheese, flamethrowers, machetes, bayonetts, knives, fists and sometimes teeth to push back their enemies. Smaller infantry squads were frequently ambushed. But not everything was going well.

“Where are our supplies, artillery support and air coverage?!” Screamed into radios Botniak officers. “The fuck do you mean there isn’t any?! If you want us to hold this hill, we will need it!”

Even in defence, Botniaks favored agressivness, action and mobility. Sitting in a fortified stronghold wasn’t their thing, elastic defense and ambushes were. They weren’t prepared for such high numbers of armored vehicles. Attacks with them on this scale weren’t common, especially when it came to the Red Army. The enemy was advancing, but at a cost. And they wanted to take those hills, they would need to clear the tunnels and bunkers.

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// 15 Kilometers from Objective Anvil-Gale-Six
// 10th Mountaineering Regiment
// 1 BBT | Day 21 of Current Contract

“APS Radar Failure.”

“I got Willie-Petra! Willie-Petra going out!”

“Duck and cover!”

“Get away from him, he’s holding a grenade!”

“Position Romeo is secured. C2 Post is up. Relay Fire Control for air support, mortars, and light artillery inside shields. Callsign is Jinx.”

SATRA Infantry had pushed to the base of the hill, and began to push up. Fighting was ferocious. The interiors of bunkers were littered with canisters of White Phosphorus (Willie-Petra), a corrosive chemical agent that sticks to skin and burns when exposed to air. After throwing a grenade inside, they’d force the door closed and let the people inside die of the burns or asphyxiation. Gunshots typically followed. On the outside, Artillery had been brought up to eliminate the site that held the shield generator so that the main batteries could “smack the everloving shit out of that hill”

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The Botniaks fought ferociously. They cleaned the narrow tunnels and trenches with flanethrowers and machineguns. Small squads would fill rooms and corridors with smoke, ambushing SATRA troops. The white phosphorus used by them was deadly, but only when someone didn’t take cover in time. Some defenders started using the same tactic, but with regular grenades. They would throw it into a room or corridor and then close the doors behind them. Some even used thermals, powerful anti-armor grenades, collapsing rooms and hallways.

Despite these efforts, the attackers were steadily advancing, clearing bunker after bunker and trench after trench. The defenders lacked personel for a major counterattack, that could push the SATRA troops away from the hills. Reinforcements weren’t an option either, due to the difficulties of getting troops through the blockade.

Unknown to the SATRA command, the shield generators were kilometers away, behind even the League artillery positions. They were put there earlier just in case the UPSR tried using anti-ship missles on ground targets, but were very useful now that the League lost orbital superiority.

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// 15 Kilometers from Objective Anvil-Gale-Six
// 115th Shock Battalion
// 1 BBT | Day 21 of Current Contract

As the fighting slowed to an attritional door to door, SATRA Command wanted this to end. Night was fading quickly, and if their armored vehicles were still sitting inside League artillery range… Someone was getting fired. The 115th Shock Battalion conducted a nighttime air assault through one of the hangars that stored enemy UAVs. During this confusion, the 10th Mountaineering renewed their assault, attempting to break through Botniak line.

They steadily pushed through, opening the fight. The hill still remained under Botniak control, but not for much longer. Or so SATRA Command hoped.

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“We need reinforcements right now! The fuck you mean there aren’t any?! If you don’t send something here right now your attack will get flanked! Yeah we are undefeatable. On our home turf with well built fortifications!” The Commander screamed into comms. “Alright, listen up everybody. We are withdrawing, there are too many of them. Set up a few booby traps and get into secondary trenchlines. Help the League troops prepare for an armored assault on them.”

The Botniaks withdrew as per their orders and begun fortifying the trenchlines behind the hill. Word of this new enemy begun to spread. It seemed the reds invested heavely into armor, which was highly unusual. But now they knew what worked. The soldiers begun to stock up on heavy plasma guns, anti tank grenades and much cheaper suicide drones. Some were setting up minefields and tank traps. A few Botniak units were sent to harass the SATRA troops. This new unit might have taken the hills but they won’t go any further.

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// Objective Anvil-Gale-Six
// 10th Mountaineering Regiment
// 1 BBT Day 21 of Current Contract

“Jeez, this place is more booby trapped than an abandoned orionite hauler.”

“You set off a dirty bomb in that ship.”

“Thank the stars, allied reinforcements. What’s forward recon saying?”

“ISR counts heavy infantry formations but no armor, we could totally push through.”

“The hill’s priority, not chasing down retreating enemies.”

“Those Bot-whatevers have also been probing our line. Did Popeye say anything once we got here?”

“Nothing besides ‘Wait, you actually took it?’ and ‘I need to make a few calls.’”

“The fact our ASFs are operating unmolested inside an enemy shield generator has to be criminal. We got a couple skiffs leftover from 115?”

“A few, yeah. Why?”

“I mean I was suggesting we shoehorn them into bombers and blowing that shield generator sky high. Anybody remember when Cassie put 5 tons of nitroglycerin into a Skiff and crashed into a Compact warship to cover our escape back during the Sidra Incident?”

“Wasn’t that a lucky break? Ship’s PD Controller was freaking out, right?”

“Then why aren’t they smoking our ASFs? Have the ASFs escort the skiffs with decoys. Like, alot of decoys.”

Daybreak came as SATRA troopers rapidly reinforced positions, dragged bodies away and (mostly unsuccessfully) tried to disarm booby traps. They didn’t need to go any further as of now. The Skiff cargo holds were laden with as many non nuclear high yield explosives as possible. New gunnery positions were drawn up and artillery began launch loitering munitions to rain down onto any potential assault.

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League fighters went into the air. They weren’t very active before, due to the USPR airforce being mostly crippled. But now, with SATRA beggining air operations the situation has changed. A few light ships from the newly estabilished blockade started to venture into a lower orbit, coming in range of anti-ship missles, but the damage done to them was so far negligible.

Herman sighted heavily while sitting down at his desk. The reds just conjured a good quality, professional force out of their ass and there was nothing he could do about it. Any significant League force that would be able to counter this new threat was already tied down somewhere else. He warned them against overexstending their forces, but the Council just had to have their big, final victory. Even the Kaiser couldn’t those wannabe dictators. And those incompetent lower officers who probably just payed their way into military academies on their backwater worlds. “What I wouldn’t give for a few Commando squads.” He sighed again while pouring himself another glass of Botniak vodka.

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// 25 Kilometers from Objective Anvil-Zero-Zero
// USPR No. 3 Squadron, 21st Fighter Wing, 111th Recon Squadron
// 1 BBT | Day 22 of Current Contract

Remnants of the USPR Air Force’s fighter squadrons had marshaled at Narodnigrad Air Force Base, a facility with so many tunnels it was nearly impossible to put out of action permanently. The squadrons remaining formed the USPR No. 3 Squadron, and had been active in interdicting assaults from missiles and bombers. Finally being given a break after the arrival of SATRA Void-Air Superiority Fighters from the 21st Fighter Wing.


Intelligence efforts to locate the shield generator had taken an entire day, with a dedicated unit of Void Fighters being affixed with cameras dodging surface to space missiles to get a fix on it. It took a miracle with the weather, but they managed to grab a fix.

“That’s number six!”

“That how many lovers you had or the amount of missiles you’ve dodged?”

“Both! Heads up, another one inbound!”

“Rake 1-2 eyes on a potential target, got a massive generator station next to it.”

“Copy that. Coordinates loaded. Rake Team, RTB. I would prefer if you didn’t die.”

“Don’t you know we live for the thrill?”

“And our paychecks. Don’t forget 'em.”


A flight from the 21st Wing had top cover over Narodnigrad when they received a new Air Tasking Order. Prepare for allied flights and be ready to escort. The pilots groaned. But they got hazard pay, at least, so things were going to be alright.

“Wilco. Give us coordinates.”

“Man, it’s one furball after another.”

“We’ll be rich! Rare to see an ATO come in midflight though. Must be an emergency.”

“Alright, we’ll be linking up with… A contingent of skiffs? Oh, lovely. Escort them to Anvil-Zero-Zero.”

“Let’s get it started, I already see the trails from our friends on the ground.”

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The shield generator was located in an underground bunker that also served as a command centre for this front section. The officers there heard about the latest SATRA exploits and their increased air activity, using this opportunity to study their design and tactics.

The loss of the hills was unfortunate, but it was barely a minor setback. Most fortifications have been sabotaged and destroyed already, making them less of a priority. Artillery range or reconeissance weren’t reliant on elevation, unlike what you hear in old stories. The amount of APS on their vehicles was concerning, but nothing detrimental. There are other ways to hurt a tank than just missles.

“Sir, there are over 40 air targets approaching, seem like bombers with an escort. Our air defence has already begun to intercept them.” A junior officer reported after barging into the office, awaking Major Douglas from his pondering. He adjusted his black Zoltanian uniform and replied.

“Tell the nearest airbase I request immediate air support. 30 fighters at the least. And you, bring me a coffee to the command room.” The Major said, while attaching his pin with a double Z to his chest.

“Yes sir.” The lower ranking officer replied, slightly confused and walked away slowly.

“Foreign officers.” He thought and sighed. “Zoltanian ones always kniw how to treat their superiors. And how to make good coffee.”

The air support was already enroute when he got to the command room. 35 fighters. They should get here in time to intercept the enemy bomber formation.

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