Journal #4 - Private Jacob Allen, Jekotian 83rd Airborne Armored Division

June 27, 2985

I don’t know how many times I’ve said it, but thank god for engineers and their ‘magical calculators.’ As an AP shell tore through my left armor breaching the hull, I turned my tank to present the right side to the enemy, and an engineer started repairing my armor on the left. Poor bastard got blown away by a HE shell half-way though the repairs. Seconds later the platoon’s weapons specialist Brian Aslakov calls over the com,

“High Cherenkov radiation levels from the tank I just marked, it’s got a fission reactor, keep your distance!” As soon as I heard that, the only thing on my mind was ‘shit. This complicates things.’ If a single round breaches the reactor, anything within a five meter radius will be decimated. Thank god its just a low-power reactor.

I rotate my turret to face the marked tank and see it’s an Imperial Heavy tank. Three other friendly tank turn to this threat, two of them light armor, one a modified medium tank with an armor piercing auto-cannon. All four of us open fire, careful to avoid the engine compartment. Me being the biggest threat, the tank turns to face me and opens fire with a rail-gun, tearing off three inches of frontal armor.

Brian Aslakov in the modified medium tank opens fire with his auto-cannon, and accidentally pierces the enemies’ reactor. I curse over the com and yell for everyone to get back. Then the real surprise comes. The breached tank starts venting gas. I realize Brian screwed up his Cherenkov radiation readings. It didn’t have a fission reactor. Before the tank blossoms into a fire ball, it fires a nuclear warhead at our communication array, consuming two light tanks, a medium tank, and our supply jeep.

We lost six good men in that skirmish, can no longer contact any allies, and one-hundred pounds of munitions exploded creating the largest ‘hit me’ sign in this entire region. For the first time in my life I find myself praying to the gods to see us safely through this. We can’t last much longer. If we’re lucky a friendly MAC saw the explosion and will investigate. If we’re unlucky? An enemy MAC is already preparing for saturation bombing.

As we prepare for another night of restless sleep, I remember what an old friend used to say, “When in doubt, shoot. When cornered, take them to hell with you. When without hope, run.” It was an age old phrase meaning shoot when it doubt, detonate your munitions to take them to hell with you, and live to fight another day if you cant win.

Private Jacob Allen,
Jekotian 83rd Airborne Armored Division

Journal #3 - Private Jacob Allen, Jekotian 83rd Airborne Armored Division

June 25, 2985

Its been a week since I've had time to write a journal, and its making me insane. This is the only thing that lets me get my thoughts down and maintains my sanity.

We succeeded at our mission, thank God, managed to take out the weapons lab that was supplying this region with biological weapons. Unfortunately our intel was wrong. We were informed by spies that the biological materials were safely sealed and posed no threat, but as soon as we destroyed the facility there was a pressure wave carrying hell-knows-what. We lost five men to it, and six tanks are too contaminated to even go near.

We spent the next few days slowly heading back toward our main base for this region, positioned far up north. We get to stop at night to make repairs to the tanks and sleep, but its pretty restless. Everyone is hungry as we didn't bring enough provisions for an extended operation, and theres still no contact on the radio.

The entire platoon is paranoid now, we've been ambushed twice, and cant take much more. At this rate there going to find us in the night and carpet bomb us. Our CO says theres no threat of that since were so far north that a carpet bombing would create havoc on the coastal Brenodi cities.

Why did I sign up for this shit? Oh, wait, I didn't. When I get back home, I'm killing my draft officer.


Private Jacob Allen,
Jekotian 83rd Airborne Armored Division

Journal #2 - Private Jacob Allen, Jekotian 83rd Airborne Armored Division

June 18, 2985

Today was hell, nearly everything hit the fan. We lost most of our platoon in the drop, and the ground force responsible for taking out the AA's was wiped out.

At 1500 hours we found out. The wing commander of the transports carrying us got a distress call from the ground team, heard an explosion over the comm, then it went dead. Soon after, we were under heavy AA fire. Since there was no chance of a safe drop at one-hundred feet, the formation was ordered down to twenty-five feet for a hard drop. This is what I feared the most.

Hard drop. It literally means hard drop. All the tanks have a parachute on the back. We just have to release it, and it pulls us right out of the transport bay. As soon as were out of the transport bay, its free fall. Tanks aren't exactly built for freefall.

We all scrambled to our tanks, and waited for the order. Five minutes? Ten minutes? I lost count. I later found out it was only about one minute. We got the order, released the chutes, and were hulled out of the transport bay. In seconds the tank was in free fall. These things are heavy, the largest tank in the Jekotian arsenal. Only thing that made me happy was the thought that the Brenodi would be clueless. It's not everyday that a tank platoon falls from the sky, leaving craters everywhere.

That happiness soon disappeared. Even though it was a twenty-five foot drop, it was fast. I guess a one-hundred ton tank falls fast. My tank hit hard, crushing an AA gun that was trying to tear through the bottom armor. I broke my left arm in the fall, cracked it hard on something. Thank god for the standard military bio-engineering, it would only be broken for a day or two. I heard countless impacts as the rest of the tanks from my wing hit, then a gut wrenching explosion. One of them landed outside the drop zone, in a mine field.

Then hell really broke loose. My tank needed time to get going after the fall. I didn't have time. In fact, I had needed time; the engine was too hot to move the tank. I put it out of my mind, got into the control seat, and look around. It was chaos. No, that's an understatement. With the tanks falling from the sky, it looked like Armageddon. Among it all, stood a lone Brenodi tank. Then another, and another. They were waiting, the whole time, in concealed bunkers.

I screamed and hit the throttle. I had to move, they knew it too. I keyed the comm and alerted my platoon. In moments we had regrouped and engaged the enemy. It was a hell hole. The Brenodi tanks were half the size of ours, exploding into fire storms of shrapnel when destroyed, blinding us while their comrades shot through the debris. I don't know how long we fought. Minutes? Hours? It was nonstop explosions, nonstop chaos. There was debris everywhere, couldn't tell friend from foe.

Then things got the worst they could. The transports started crashing. We were stranded in a hostile war zone, with no chance of rescue. Were going to be stuck here for days, weeks, maybe even months. We were able to salvage enough munitions from the Brenodi wreckage to restock the tanks, but were stuck.

Private Jacob Allen,
Jekotian 83rd Airborne Armored Division

Journal #1 - Private Jacob Allen, Jekotian 83rd Airborne Armored Division

June 17, 2985

This is my first time in combat since boot, and things have drastically changed. I was trained to be a grenadier in one of the anti-amour divisions, but a shortage of soldiers has had me moved to one of the airborne armored divisions.

So far, its hell. I had a brief lesson on how to react encase of an emergency drop, and now my tank is in a plane some hundred feet above the ground. Were supposed to land near a Brenodi outpost, but only if the ground team can clear the AA crews. The worst scenario were looking at is a hard drop just under MACH 1, at fifty feet during a crash. I just hope I survive.

Private Jacob Allen,
Jekotian 83rd Airborne Armored Division