0079: The Dogface Chronicles
Ben Kade sat uncomfortably in the padded pilot’s chair of his mobile suit. He pensively listened to the roar of the atmosphere as it lashed at the heat shielding of his HLV, the sound reverberated through the crafts hull and rumbled deeply in the thick steel armor of his Zaku. He felt quite unnerved, sitting alone in a metal cocoon. His hands were clammy with cold sweat. Looking towards the little display timer on one of his view panels, he watched the estimated landing time; small red digital numerals let him know he had less than five minutes till full planetfall. A voice crackled in his headset.
“CPO Kade, our ETA to landing is 4:30, do a final systems check and prepare to establish a perimeter upon landing†He listened to the voice of his lieutenant, and had his hands dance across the various control panels in his cockpit, bringing up status displays.
“Roger that Lieutenant, I’m showing 100%â€
“Copy that, landing in T-3 minutes and counting†Ben activated passive camera systems and a display of the cramped HLV’s innards appeared on his screen. Two more of the massive machines could be seen in the dim red light of the crafts interior, along with several platoons of infantry sitting in crash couches. He clicked a com switch and opened a channel he used to talk with his wingman.
“Hey Simms, don’t you pity the infantry sometimes?†Ben asked, ending the question with a slight laugh.
“Sometimes? I pity them all the time.†James Simms laughed too.
“Better close the channel, looks like we’re going to land soon.â€
Ben flicked the switch off and sat in silence, washed with the dull red glow of the cargo area’s lights being filtered through his view screen. The small red counter began flashing with less than thirty seconds on it. He listened as the massive landing crafts landing rockets fired and jolted him in his seat. He watched one of the infantrymen vomit on himself and was struck with a pang of empathy as the man’s superior chewed him out. Before he could finish his thought the HLV landed with a huge crash, massive loading doors on either side of the craft opened and Ben followed his commander’s suit as it deftly unlatched itself from the holding racks and made its first steps on to Earth.
The infantry began unhooking themselves from their couches, even the one who had a bout of nausea moved deftly and with purpose to gather his equipment and rush out right on the tail of the mobile suits. The sky was dark, punctuated by glittering points of light, and the fiery streaks of his fellow soldiers HLVs.
“Simms, Kade, we’re setting up a thirty kilometer perimeter. The HLV crew is laying down M to cover us, and the infantry will ward off any skirmishers the Federation wants to throw at us. Stay within sight of each other, once the landing force has arrived in it’s entirety we will consolidate our forces and push east to Odessa, for now, we’re working security for the landing sites.†Ben was well aware of the mission, countless briefings and simulations had made every word the lieutenant said mundane and predictable. He pushed forward on the control sticks and felt the metal giant lumber forward and fall in place behind his commander. The area was a massive dry plain that extended as far as the eye could see. Two flashes on one of his screens caught his attention; he opened his communication channel and spoke through his throat mic as the two shells flew past the landing site.
“Lieutenant, looks like we have company, due eastâ€
~
“Well shit.†Lieutenant Alexei Machikov muttered, lowering his binoculars and descending in to his tank, carefully latching the hatch behind him.
“If I find the idiot who fired without orders, I’ll crush his balls with the maintenance wrench†He spoke to no one in particular, but the threat was a painful thought, the wrench he mentioned was designed for tightening the nuts on the T-61’s road wheels, and weighed in at a hefty forty pounds. He heard his gunner snicker and the driver guffaw in his lower compartment.
The tank division Alexei was attached to had received warnings from Jaburo that the Zeon had initiated a massive invasion and low and behold, a landing force had landed within kilometers of his fixed position. The division had been given orders to dig in and repel the invaders. Alexei had ordered his unit to hull down, leaving only their turrets exposed, and engage any Zeon forces immediately after they landed. The hope was to keep the enemy from gaining a firm foothold and off balance. Alexei grunted, the plan might have worked, had some idiot not jumped the gun and fired without orders, now the only advantage his unit had was numerical superiority. Not that a whole lot of nothing added up to much, he mused.
The machine he commanded was an aging tank, weathering had taken its toll on the armors finish and rusty sand colors competed with the Federation paint scheme originally bestowed on the vehicle. But appearances were not to be deceiving; it still had two 150mm cannons, nothing to be trifled with at close range. Alexei’s radio crackled.
“Whoever fired those shots will be dealt with after this engagement, I assure you.†Alexei smiled, his commander was rather displeased as well. “However, we have lost the element of surprise and will now begin a frontal assault on the enemy’s landing area. Make every shot count and Godspeed.â€
Alexei didn’t need to give the order to start the engine, his driver had already activated the starter and black oily smoke belched from the tanks engines. The vehicle backed out of the revetment his crew had dug earlier and rattled towards the dimly lit landing craft and the three menacing looking giants it had disgorged. He opened the commander’s cupola again and sat with his upper body exposed, yelling course corrections down the hatch and watching his unit advance on the enemy. Dozens of tanks nearly identical to his rolled across the flat Russian plains, kicking up dust barely visible in the dull moonlight.
A rapid series of flashes punctuated the darkness as one of the mobile suits ahead of him stopped to fire, the projectiles found their home in a tank to his left, ripping the turret from the chassis and igniting the stored ammunition.
“Evasive maneuvers, we don’t want to end up like them†Alexei yelled down the hatch. The tank began an erratic series of turns and lazy arcs. More flashes in the distance, several other tanks exploded or stopped in their tracks, smoke billowing from huge holes torn in the armor. He ducked in to the turret and brought up the commander’s scope, the display was a digitally enhanced view of the battlefield, but there was a terrible amount of static. He frowned.
“High explosive, two rounds, target at 30 degrees traverse right, 3 degrees elevation†The gunner quickly complied and the twin cannons spat forth a pair of shells, the force of the blast shook the turret.
Alexei frowned again, his targeting scope had calculated the firing solution, but the shells had landed too far from the enemy to have any effect. His gunner noticed too. “I’ve never seen the scopes this fucked, excuse my language, sir.â€
“It’s okay Lidov, well do the best we can†He replied, though inside he felt skeptical. The weapons the Zeke’s were using had better range, firing rate, and penetrating power. The Federation’s tanks weren’t even able to fire accurately at them for some reason. Flicking the power switch for the gunnery scope, he turned off the power, the night vision green hue faded to the darkness of night. He could still make out the massive dome shape of the landing craft and the shifting figures of the lumbering mobile suits.
“Time to try again, high explosive, two rounds, target at 12 degrees traverse left, 2 degrees elevation†The target was a tall, menacing looking machine, a Zaku II, from the briefings, that was blissfully swatting away tanks with an oversized machinegun. He waited until the enemy machine stopped to reload.
“Fire!â€
The cannons fired in tandem, adding their report to those of his fellow tankers. Alexei watched the two orange fiery streaks burn brightly in the darkness and hurdle towards their target.
~
Ben grunted and fought with the control sticks to stay upright. The HUD informed him that he had taken a non-penetrating hit in the right knee area. He pushed forward experimentally and the suit responded slightly sluggishly. He activated his throat mic.
“James, I’m hit, HUD says in the knee area, can you confirm with a visual?†Ben waited a few moments for his wingman to respond.
“Confirm that Ben, looks like you’ll be okay, just keep moving.†His wingman’s transmission was punctuated by the sounds of 120mm cannon fire.
Ben closed the warning menu that warned him of the hit and pushed the throttles forward towards the Federation tanks. With a new drum loaded in his weapon, he took aim and fired bursts at the approaching armor. He marveled at their suicidal bravery, the T-61’s they drove were ill equipped for 0079 combat, but they charged him never the less. A near hit snapped him back to attention. Spying a tank, he used his rangefinder to estimate the distance and opened fire. Several of his rounds found home and the tank stopped in its tracks then a few moments later ammunition and fuel inside began igniting and flames leapt from the hatches. It didn’t look like anyone had bailed out.
The Federation’s numbers had been thinned and from radio reports newly landed Zeon reinforcements were repelling their attempts at attacking the landing site. He watched the enemy tank formations begin pulling back, firing a few parting shots, Ben took a glance at his sensor display. The enemy was routed and retreating in his sector. While examining a situation report, the invasion commander’s face appeared in a video transmission on his main view screen.
“Brave soldiers of the Principality, we have defeated the Federation in space, and now we have taken the first steps towards defeating them on their own planet. Welcome to Earth, and sieg Zeon!†Ben chanted the victory hail and grinned with a mixture of satisfaction and accomplishment. He felt invigorated, part of the greatest military force the universe had ever known, Zeon would have its independence. Zeon would have its victory.
That's all for now, got plans to keep it going as a serial and introduce new locations, characters, and views from fairly unconventional places.
0079: The Dogface Chronicles, NEW Chapter 2
0079: The Dogface Chronicles, NEW Chapter 2
Last edited by Jynx on Tue Sep 18, 2007 9:57 pm, edited 1 time in total.
This is looking good to me. I always wanted to read something about the drop operations. And especially that you pit the Zeon against Russo-Federation hordes. (This nutcracker you talk about, is that a inside joke to Tchaikovksy's Ballet?) The set-up made me think of an Eastern Front anno '79.
Just one point, although not really important.
We all know how the Zeon look like, act, etc. But we've never seen these Russians before, apart that you say they're fighting on the Russian steppes and the guy is named Alexei. Well, my suggestion is to detail them a little, give them some depth. For instance, name the Tank Division (a google search gave me this 4th Guards Kantemirovskaya Tank Division) Make them look Russian, the military fur hats (ushanka), cavalry hats, long overcoats or some kind of blanket wrapped around their torso like a saucage. Like the third one from the left. Even the Russian emblems can be kept, I reckon you just have to change the red star into the Feddie Symbol. Throw in a russian word or two, Tovarisch (comrade) or Bozhe Moi (my god).
And they should always have a guy with a big flag (maybe a red one with a small yellow EFF logo in the corner), one with an accordeon and vodka, lot's of it. That may be stereotypical but at least we'll all know they're Russians allright.
But that's just my suggestion. Do with it what you like. And I'd like to see more of this.
Just one point, although not really important.
We all know how the Zeon look like, act, etc. But we've never seen these Russians before, apart that you say they're fighting on the Russian steppes and the guy is named Alexei. Well, my suggestion is to detail them a little, give them some depth. For instance, name the Tank Division (a google search gave me this 4th Guards Kantemirovskaya Tank Division) Make them look Russian, the military fur hats (ushanka), cavalry hats, long overcoats or some kind of blanket wrapped around their torso like a saucage. Like the third one from the left. Even the Russian emblems can be kept, I reckon you just have to change the red star into the Feddie Symbol. Throw in a russian word or two, Tovarisch (comrade) or Bozhe Moi (my god).
And they should always have a guy with a big flag (maybe a red one with a small yellow EFF logo in the corner), one with an accordeon and vodka, lot's of it. That may be stereotypical but at least we'll all know they're Russians allright.
But that's just my suggestion. Do with it what you like. And I'd like to see more of this.
Chapter 2
Kursk – March of the Cyclops
Zeon landing forces have invaded Earth and quickly consolidated their positions. Strategically placed around the planet, they have swept past largely ineffective Federation forces and taken huge tracts of territory. On the continent of Asia, a Principality expeditionary force landed two hundred miles south of Moscow and is making its way towards Kursk, a major manufacturing city for heavy armour used by the Federation. However, this is only a stepping-stone, the ultimate goal of this army is to take Odessa and mine its mineral rich soil for resources the Principality’s war machine dearly needs.
“The signs do not look good; Zeon is moving elements of their Asia deployment to take Kursk.†Commander Petrov said grimly. A giant of a man, Petrov stood a full six foot five, with a barrel chest, massive arms, and a huge beard. To friends and enemies alike, he was known as the Iron Bear. He began his military career as a tank driver, and through demonstration of skill and initiative, became an officer, and eventually commander of the Federation’s West Russian Army. It was a title he reviled at the moment. His forces were in shambles, the Principalities forces had torn through his armored divisions and laid waste to every airbase within five hundred miles, preventing a concerted counterattack or even basic air support. To make matters worse, what little intelligence he was getting, bravely brought to him by motorcycle-equipped messengers, painted a picture of a massive strike force massing to smash through Kursk. The Federation command would not allow the city to be taken and had ordered the bulk of the West Russian Army to deploy in and around the area to prevent any advance attempted by Zeon.
“It looks worse the longer I look at it.†Command Petrov muttered, his assembled staff officers nodded gravely. They were low on supplies and munitions, and had to begin rationing food and water, further demoralizing the troops. The command tent was dimly lit, cramped with map tables, radio equipment, and tired looking officers. Petrov reached in to his pocked and fished out his cigarettes, pulling one from the box he slipped the case back in to his jacket and produced a small lighter. None of the other commanders took notice, many of them smoked and the fabric of the tent itself was impregnated with the stale odors of a lifetime of tobacco. He puffed in silence, studying the developing situation and mentally tabulating his assets. With one last drag, he finished the cigarette and stubbed it out on the sole of his scuffed boot.
“We will have to ask the people of Kursk for help, it is the only chance we have of even delaying the enemy’s assault. Without civilian manpower, we cannot prepare adequate defenses.†His staff looked up from their maps and paperwork.
“What will we do with them?†Asked second armored division’s new commander, Alexei Machikov.
“With their help, we will construct anti-armor ditches, trenches for our infantry, and hardened revetments for our tanks.†Petrov responded, absently stroking his unkempt beard. Lieutenant Lestev, please draft the order and have the jeep patrols broadcast the message over their PA systems. The lieutenant saluted and briskly left the tent, the senior officers resumed their individual tasks. Petrov only stood and looked out towards the city through the tents entrance.
~
“Catch!†Ben heard a voice from his left shout. Moments later a ration pack flew in to his temple. He rubbed the side of his head and looked in the direction of the projectile food.
“That hurt James, Christ manâ€. Ben grumbled, stooping to pick up the food. He sat down on a nearby chair in the house they were quartered in. Ben had been told the previous occupants had given up the home temporarily, for a competitive price, by the MP division that secured trooper housing. He wondered if that was true, since there were tiny specks of blood on the living room floor. The MP divisions were convincing, either way he looked at it.
“Just eat quickly, that briefing for our next deployment is in twenty minutes.†Simms then turned and walked back out in to the street towards the mayor’s mansion, which was now being used as a temporary command post for his mobile suit division.
He wolfed down the food, stepped in to the bathroom to check his uniform in the mirror, and jogged out to the mansion where Simms was waiting.
“Your best time yet, come on, I think they want to start early.†Simms said, stepping inside the open door.
Their force commander stood at a makeshift podium in the large wooded floored foyer. Ben and James were the last two junior officers to take their seats.
“Good to have everyone here, alright gentlemen, let’s begin.†The commander activated a map display. “This is the city of Kursk, it’s an industrial center for this area and provides about 7% of the entire Federation’s tank and armored vehicle production capacity. Command has passed down orders for us to take this area for two reasons, first to deny the industrial capacity to the enemy, second, to secure a safe route from Moscow to Odessa. Kursk is just a middle point between us and Odessa, but it is necessary, if we leave it the Federation may try to attempt a breakout and disrupt our future mining operations in Odessa. While it is not necessary, headquarters has requested that we leave at least 30% of the cities production capacity untouched. I don’t know about you men, but I don’t know how to quantify production capacity. In laymen’s terms, we’re going to have to leave some of the city untouched so we can use their own factories against them. This is a secondary objective, but it will help the war effort if we can secure most of the city without causing much collateral damage.†He thumbed a button and the map changed to an enhanced satellite image.
“Our forces have already begun the process of consolidation and will be ready to attack Kursk in approximately three days, the bad news is the Federation has caught wind of our movement and is pulling West Russian Army elements from all over the country side in to a tight perimeter surrounding Kursk. These are the forces we have been fighting nearly our entire stay in Russia, they know our tactics and we know theirs. General Gregory Petrov is an astute commander and learns quickly from mistakes his army makes, do not underestimate him or his soldiers. Recent satellite imagery shows he had deployed various armored units a few miles outside of the city, with the majority of his infantry and an armor reserve deep in Kursk. One hour before we deploy our units, a Gaw bomber wing will saturate their front lines as well as drop smaller anti-personnel mines within the city limits. Further aerial support comes in the form of the 16th Zeonic Air Corps, composed primarily of Dopp fighters. I don’t need to remind you men how vicious urban combat is, your mobile suits will be big targets, so make sure you have infantry support at all times, each of your MS teams will be detailed three platoons of riflemen. That is all, further briefings at 0900 tomorrow for individual divisions, senior officers please meet me at 1700 tonight for final details. Dismissedâ€
The assembled officers stood and saluted as their commander headed off to his office. After he left, the room filled with the speculative talk of officers set with new objectives. Strategies, criticisms, and praise were found in equal amounts. Ben stepped outside and looked southwest, towards the highway which would take him to the fortified city of Kursk. He mulled over the fate that might await him.
~
Janice Sterling’s shovel bit in to the cold soil of Kursk’s outskirts. All around her thousands of people, equipped with various shovels, pick axes, wheel-barrows, and tenacity, were digging miles of trenches. She put down the shovel and wiped her brow, the work was hard, but her city and her entirely livelihood was at stake. The Federation army had broadcast messages about the impending Zeon invasion. Everywhere she looked, the city was bustling with people, soldiers and civilians alike, running hastily through the streets with equipment, food, she had even seen one woman toting a baby under one arm and several packages of diapers in the other.
Taking one last glance at the marvel of Kursk’s citizenry working as one, she bent over to heave another shovelful of dirt aside. She imagined one of the Principalities great huge green monstrosities losing its footing in the disguised trap, leaving it open for deadly reprisal. The musings gave strength and speed to her work, soon Federation soldiers would come and conceal the deep trench they had dug, the native people called it maskirovka. As near as Janice could tell, it meant camouflage. She longed to ask her husband about it, but he had been drafted in to the Federation Army, leaving her, a stranger to Russia, all alone digging holes to stop a spacenoid invasion.
Night fell and she collected her lunch pail and shovel, walking home with most of the other workers. She could still hear the digging of the soldiers, they were under orders to dig until the enemy came, as a citizen she could at least get some rest. Entering her small efficiency apartment, she sat in an under-padded couch, kicked off her shoes, and promptly fell asleep. She awoke to the drone of jet engines and the catastrophic blasts of massive bombardment. War had come to Kursk.
Kursk – March of the Cyclops
Zeon landing forces have invaded Earth and quickly consolidated their positions. Strategically placed around the planet, they have swept past largely ineffective Federation forces and taken huge tracts of territory. On the continent of Asia, a Principality expeditionary force landed two hundred miles south of Moscow and is making its way towards Kursk, a major manufacturing city for heavy armour used by the Federation. However, this is only a stepping-stone, the ultimate goal of this army is to take Odessa and mine its mineral rich soil for resources the Principality’s war machine dearly needs.
“The signs do not look good; Zeon is moving elements of their Asia deployment to take Kursk.†Commander Petrov said grimly. A giant of a man, Petrov stood a full six foot five, with a barrel chest, massive arms, and a huge beard. To friends and enemies alike, he was known as the Iron Bear. He began his military career as a tank driver, and through demonstration of skill and initiative, became an officer, and eventually commander of the Federation’s West Russian Army. It was a title he reviled at the moment. His forces were in shambles, the Principalities forces had torn through his armored divisions and laid waste to every airbase within five hundred miles, preventing a concerted counterattack or even basic air support. To make matters worse, what little intelligence he was getting, bravely brought to him by motorcycle-equipped messengers, painted a picture of a massive strike force massing to smash through Kursk. The Federation command would not allow the city to be taken and had ordered the bulk of the West Russian Army to deploy in and around the area to prevent any advance attempted by Zeon.
“It looks worse the longer I look at it.†Command Petrov muttered, his assembled staff officers nodded gravely. They were low on supplies and munitions, and had to begin rationing food and water, further demoralizing the troops. The command tent was dimly lit, cramped with map tables, radio equipment, and tired looking officers. Petrov reached in to his pocked and fished out his cigarettes, pulling one from the box he slipped the case back in to his jacket and produced a small lighter. None of the other commanders took notice, many of them smoked and the fabric of the tent itself was impregnated with the stale odors of a lifetime of tobacco. He puffed in silence, studying the developing situation and mentally tabulating his assets. With one last drag, he finished the cigarette and stubbed it out on the sole of his scuffed boot.
“We will have to ask the people of Kursk for help, it is the only chance we have of even delaying the enemy’s assault. Without civilian manpower, we cannot prepare adequate defenses.†His staff looked up from their maps and paperwork.
“What will we do with them?†Asked second armored division’s new commander, Alexei Machikov.
“With their help, we will construct anti-armor ditches, trenches for our infantry, and hardened revetments for our tanks.†Petrov responded, absently stroking his unkempt beard. Lieutenant Lestev, please draft the order and have the jeep patrols broadcast the message over their PA systems. The lieutenant saluted and briskly left the tent, the senior officers resumed their individual tasks. Petrov only stood and looked out towards the city through the tents entrance.
~
“Catch!†Ben heard a voice from his left shout. Moments later a ration pack flew in to his temple. He rubbed the side of his head and looked in the direction of the projectile food.
“That hurt James, Christ manâ€. Ben grumbled, stooping to pick up the food. He sat down on a nearby chair in the house they were quartered in. Ben had been told the previous occupants had given up the home temporarily, for a competitive price, by the MP division that secured trooper housing. He wondered if that was true, since there were tiny specks of blood on the living room floor. The MP divisions were convincing, either way he looked at it.
“Just eat quickly, that briefing for our next deployment is in twenty minutes.†Simms then turned and walked back out in to the street towards the mayor’s mansion, which was now being used as a temporary command post for his mobile suit division.
He wolfed down the food, stepped in to the bathroom to check his uniform in the mirror, and jogged out to the mansion where Simms was waiting.
“Your best time yet, come on, I think they want to start early.†Simms said, stepping inside the open door.
Their force commander stood at a makeshift podium in the large wooded floored foyer. Ben and James were the last two junior officers to take their seats.
“Good to have everyone here, alright gentlemen, let’s begin.†The commander activated a map display. “This is the city of Kursk, it’s an industrial center for this area and provides about 7% of the entire Federation’s tank and armored vehicle production capacity. Command has passed down orders for us to take this area for two reasons, first to deny the industrial capacity to the enemy, second, to secure a safe route from Moscow to Odessa. Kursk is just a middle point between us and Odessa, but it is necessary, if we leave it the Federation may try to attempt a breakout and disrupt our future mining operations in Odessa. While it is not necessary, headquarters has requested that we leave at least 30% of the cities production capacity untouched. I don’t know about you men, but I don’t know how to quantify production capacity. In laymen’s terms, we’re going to have to leave some of the city untouched so we can use their own factories against them. This is a secondary objective, but it will help the war effort if we can secure most of the city without causing much collateral damage.†He thumbed a button and the map changed to an enhanced satellite image.
“Our forces have already begun the process of consolidation and will be ready to attack Kursk in approximately three days, the bad news is the Federation has caught wind of our movement and is pulling West Russian Army elements from all over the country side in to a tight perimeter surrounding Kursk. These are the forces we have been fighting nearly our entire stay in Russia, they know our tactics and we know theirs. General Gregory Petrov is an astute commander and learns quickly from mistakes his army makes, do not underestimate him or his soldiers. Recent satellite imagery shows he had deployed various armored units a few miles outside of the city, with the majority of his infantry and an armor reserve deep in Kursk. One hour before we deploy our units, a Gaw bomber wing will saturate their front lines as well as drop smaller anti-personnel mines within the city limits. Further aerial support comes in the form of the 16th Zeonic Air Corps, composed primarily of Dopp fighters. I don’t need to remind you men how vicious urban combat is, your mobile suits will be big targets, so make sure you have infantry support at all times, each of your MS teams will be detailed three platoons of riflemen. That is all, further briefings at 0900 tomorrow for individual divisions, senior officers please meet me at 1700 tonight for final details. Dismissedâ€
The assembled officers stood and saluted as their commander headed off to his office. After he left, the room filled with the speculative talk of officers set with new objectives. Strategies, criticisms, and praise were found in equal amounts. Ben stepped outside and looked southwest, towards the highway which would take him to the fortified city of Kursk. He mulled over the fate that might await him.
~
Janice Sterling’s shovel bit in to the cold soil of Kursk’s outskirts. All around her thousands of people, equipped with various shovels, pick axes, wheel-barrows, and tenacity, were digging miles of trenches. She put down the shovel and wiped her brow, the work was hard, but her city and her entirely livelihood was at stake. The Federation army had broadcast messages about the impending Zeon invasion. Everywhere she looked, the city was bustling with people, soldiers and civilians alike, running hastily through the streets with equipment, food, she had even seen one woman toting a baby under one arm and several packages of diapers in the other.
Taking one last glance at the marvel of Kursk’s citizenry working as one, she bent over to heave another shovelful of dirt aside. She imagined one of the Principalities great huge green monstrosities losing its footing in the disguised trap, leaving it open for deadly reprisal. The musings gave strength and speed to her work, soon Federation soldiers would come and conceal the deep trench they had dug, the native people called it maskirovka. As near as Janice could tell, it meant camouflage. She longed to ask her husband about it, but he had been drafted in to the Federation Army, leaving her, a stranger to Russia, all alone digging holes to stop a spacenoid invasion.
Night fell and she collected her lunch pail and shovel, walking home with most of the other workers. She could still hear the digging of the soldiers, they were under orders to dig until the enemy came, as a citizen she could at least get some rest. Entering her small efficiency apartment, she sat in an under-padded couch, kicked off her shoes, and promptly fell asleep. She awoke to the drone of jet engines and the catastrophic blasts of massive bombardment. War had come to Kursk.