"Nothing goes according to plan. Simple becomes complex and complex becomes impossible; While the relentless hammer of time beats upon all. Plan what you can, and let the Gods & Goddesses sort it out." Tamari Kapoor Chronicles.

Highway One Eastern Kazan Heading West.

18:30 PM second day of ORM offensive, evening.

A strong smell of iron, bowels spilled and roasted pork almost gagging in its intensity wafted across the small meadow where thirty Atlantean soldiers lay in various pieces strewn across the ground. Spent propellants and blood mist still hung in the air like a fog.

One of the Sub Komanders of the 1st Fist knelt before his commanding General. “Sir it is my duty to report, Your son Taxis, is among the dead, leading his assault group from the kill zone.”

“My son... my boy. The news hit him in the guts like a knife blade. I hate with every fiber of my being these slaves who think they are our equals. More importantly, I hate the fact they just eliminated a Fist of my men. I will bring my wrath down upon their heads.” General Abantza scowled at the chaos inflicted upon his leading elements.

The Hegemony had planned their ambush exceedingly well. A quick slashing raid of Power Suited Infantry with their 60mm backpack mortars had dropped twenty or thirty rounds in quick succession into the leading Fist of the Blood Vipers. It pushed the survivors into a small break in the tall grass on the north of the road. Command detonated directional mines drove them further into the grass where Pop Up D-43 two shot laser mines went off, slicing grass and legs off at a uniform height half a meter high. Medics rushed to the scene acting on their natural instinct to come to the rescue of their comrades who were sliced in two by the second discharge. The deaths of his men without being to fight back, galled Abantza and he hovered on the edge of a murderous rage.

“Weapons Master! I want to see the Weapons Master Now!”

Soon a heavily muscled man with his caste marks vivid against his yellow skin of the southern islands, presented himself before his General officer, taking off his battle helm and bowing his bald head in deference and submission. “I am here, my General.”

“Where was our counter-battery system? Was it not stressed enough that the mobile radar units should be up and running while we are on the march?”

“Yes sir. It was on.” The man looked sick. Lifting his head he continued, “General they must be in Power Suits. We knew Shikari, so equipped had been deployed when we crossed over. The units who attacked us, we could “see them” on the radar as they volleyed their mortars into us. But we couldn't hit them because we estimated they were doing over 60 Kph and they didn't pause from their movement. Even our light Mortars couldn't get a fix on them fast enough to return fire.” The man ducked his head, with big drops of sweat beading upon the crown and rolling down in long runnels turning muddy from the dust of Kazan.

Time slowed and silence settled over the dead and dying in front of the General Abantza who wanted to kill. Needed to kill. His hand itched, his fingers on his right hand visibly tremble at the need. “Gods be damned bitches... my son!” Then his reason returned to him as the cold metal of the Gerra Aiskora, his War Axe. Symbol of his rank and position given to him by the Emperor himself, brushed his hand.

Instead of burying his axe into the skull of his Weapon Master as his soul begged him to, he mastered his ispiritu, his will and placed his hand upon the crown of the man's head. “I don't kill men who are doing their job. Tell your gunners to remain alert. They can be called upon at any moment to fire a mission at need. Go!”

“As you command, so shall it be done.” The visibly shaken Weapons Master bowed again, backed away and faded back into the ranks of the men surrounding their Commanding General.

“Be careful of what you wish for Abantza it has cost you your youngest heir. I prayed for a competent foe. By the jaws of Sugaar I got just that.” Furiously he fought an inner battle with himself for being blind and blundering forward full of false confidence.

Turning to his Languntzaile Komander Otxoa, or military aide, “Otxoa summoned the Thralls to deal with these Engineers and their subservient neutered male spawn. I also want to speak to my Scout Komander. He shall explain his failure and offer me his head or a way forward.”

Young Otxoa dipped his handsome head and saluted, “garaile sendatzeko nire General!” Stepping aside the young aide with dark umber skin and piercing blue eyes touched his cheek flange on his armored helmet and spoke into its microphone.H

*****

Síkság Province, Grid reference X445Y006

Logistics Transfer Facility-“Table Top”

Evening/Night Second day ORM offensive.

19:05 PM

“Damn Master Tech Patel, can we take a break? I am dead on my feet.” One pimply faced skinny as a fence rail tech named Modhi sniveled and whined as he finished chain-linking the last in a seemingly endless supply of small car sized 30mm ammunition canisters.

Master Technician Patel a man with a large round belly, shiny patted bald head of middle years with a temper of a bear with an abscess on his ass, rounded on his young charge,“Listen up shithead. Only the living can complain about being tired. And I don't give you permission to die on me. So suck it up, and get on those Calibration protocols, we need them loaded into #1 and #2. We will use them for direct control battle sight operations. Which means we also need the software double checked. Their default position will be to recognize an artificial horizon. And go from there looking for threats. 'Our' default horizon is about a meter high. Which means you are going to have to program that in and not use the standard load out software which uses a 150 meter artificial horizon. Do you understand me? I want to hear you say 'I understand Master Technician Patel.'

Even with the Yeti villagers humping our ammunition canisters around, we have been at this for 15 hours. I know the kid is beat. Hell I am beat. Patel mused silently to himself.

“Grumble mumble Patel...”

“What the hell was that again?”

“I understand Master Technician Patel.”

“Thought so. Go find your rack. I'll send someone around in a couple of hours and wake you up. You can double check I loaded the software properly.”

The surprise look on Modhi's face was worth bitching at him. “Hell I like this kid. I hope we can survive whatever traveling shit show is coming our way.”

****

“Where the hell are all the AFVs heading to? With a large number of our motorcycles strapped to their back deck? Sepoy Jindal asked Havildar Hal. And more importantly why are they loaded to the panniers with Militia?

“What rank are you, Jindal?”

“Sepoy Machine Gunner First Class!”

“Glad you cleared that up for us stupid dirt eaters. Because I didn't see an officer's tabs on your shoulders nor did I happen to see a fucking General's baton in your backpack! It's not your Gods-be -damned-concern! Where is your squad leader? Obviously he has been falling down on the job in not giving you enough to keep you busy. Therefore it means I have been slacking. Get back to fucking work you idiot!”

The small Havildar stormed off through the sangar maze screaming for his Naik Mahajan, about lazy damn Sepoy's asking stupid questions.

****

Highway One 15 Kilometers East of LTF “Table Top.”

20:03 PM.

The Sunset had birthed a moonless night. “Blacker than three meters up a hog's ass.” Shikari Chandresh Nayar groused. “What a relief to be back at the truck!” As his powered suit sat down in a specially constructed rack seat combination while environmental connections snapped into place.

His suit, a marvel of high-tech engineering, existed at a very long technical pyramid of R&D. For all of its amazing capabilities each one weighed over 200 Kilograms, excluding their occupant. They mimicked human skeletal structure. Their occupants wore the suit like deep sea diving gear. Magnetic seals opened up the musculature bundles, and a Shikari stepped inside. Quite literally strapping into a larger version of their own body. Which also made 'fitting' a suit personal and so incredibly expensive.

Massive polymer electrically activated muscles attached to a skeleton of Aluminum Foam milling and Titanium strengthened bones multiplied the occupants strength by a factor of four. Each suit had an outer layer wrapped in a skin of liquid metal armour, between two thin sheets of fabric made of Carbyne tubes wrapped around long chains of diamond, which in of themselves acted like a flexible spine for the armour when impacted by projectiles. It was proof against most ballistic weapons up to 14mm. Shape charges however, like a rocket propelled grenade could penetrate their armour.

All of which meant a fantastic level of protection, but it also meant the suits retained heat for the occupants inside like a Tandoori oven. Hence the need for being wrapped in cooling tubes stitched to their bodysuits.

With connections made, cold fluid began pumping into their cooling garments. “Ah! That feels almost better than...” As the crawling ice worm sensation flowed over his skin, Nayar became aware of a beeping noise coming from his threat assessment computer. “What the hell..”

Shikari Nayar never got to investigate the threat warning. Multiple heavy rockets normally mounted on Atlantean Armored Tactical Vehicles, called a 'Pipe Organ' slammed into his vehicle and specifically the equipment racks where he and his mates were 'plugged in.'

As intimidating as the fusion powered suits of the Hegemony became to their foes, nothing really compared to the threat of the genetically crafted war machines Atlantean scientists had created. Living monsters, with mouths like a hyena in a vaguely humanoid shape. They were often fed human captors to help keep their killing edge. Their skin was a horny articulated keratin hexagonal plate and they had tufts of hair on their chins. Thralls came in 'variants.' Because they were crafted, different types could be printed over a calcium carbon bone matrix. Of the different types the most deadly was the infantry assault class and their fearsome war axes.

Two meter Thrall assault troops stepped from the grass they had used to sneak up on the Shikaris. Thick overhung reinforced brows, protected highly intelligent eyes; which scanned the area even while they launched another volley of rockets into the lone Shikari vehicle. Another 'Finger' of five Thralls stepped into the small clearing firing 20mm cannons like semi-automatic shotguns. They worked the entire area until the vehicle itself burned, and all the supplies which had been set out for the troops to use, also burned or were blown to bits.

The last image Shikari Nayar's brain could process consisted of a horny faced Thrall leaning over him as a mouth full of sharp canines and incisors ripped his throat out.

****

Síkság Province, Grid reference X445Y006

Logistics Transfer Facility-“Table Top”

00:09 AM third day of ORM offensive.

“What the fuck is that coming up the road?” Sepoy Sharma said.

His squad mate standing right next to him dialed up the magnification of his General Purpose M-5 machine gun night sight, “Ugh whatever it is, is freaking huge! And it is carrying a torch and what looks like a spear.”

“Better call the old man and let him and Havildar Hal know we have a giant at the front gate!”

****

“Mungus Six, Mungus Six, this Hunter Six.”

“Go Hunter Six. What is your traffic?”

“The magazine subscription salesmen have shown up at our door a little early.”

“How many? Give me a Situational Report.”

“One I think.”

“One?”

“Yes. One. You need to go to eyeball mode to understand. Call me when you decide what you want to do with him.”

“Affirmative. Mungus Six Out.”

****

The giant Thrall, stood in the crossroad in front of the entire LTF and planted the smokey torch of dried grass in the ground in front of him. He had a large sack upon his back. He turned his back to the LTF and made broad sweeping gestures left and right with his spear.

To The Shikari in their fighting positions and to Captain Tamari Kapoor, the grass came alive with monsters. A dozen man-things emerged from the shadows and formed up behind their spear carrier.

****

Captain Tamari Kapoor had sprinted from her quarters to the FDC where the vast majority of the sensor drone feeds came into. Upon bursting through the door she asked,“Chief What the hell is that thing doing?”

A sleepy eyed Chief Warrant Officer Hebbar replied, “Something the Hegemony hasn't seen in a really long time. They are going to issue us a challenge for our base and ultimately for our souls.”

****

The spear carrying Battle Thrall turned to face his foes. And he began to chant loudly, “Belarriak zabalik! Kia Garatzenek! Kia Garatzenek! Kia mau! Talde prest ...! Eutsi gogor!”

His soldiers began stomping their feet. Thump Thump Thump... and clapping their hands while grunting, “Ahhhoo! Ahhhoo! Ahhhoo!”

“Slap the hands against the thighs! Stomp the feet as hard as you can! As hard as we can!

You die! You die!” Their spear wielder yelled at the top of his voice.

“Ahhhoo! Ahhhoo! Ahhhoo!”

Each member of the ten man squad squatted in a deep shoulder width stance and began slapping their armored thighs with large blunt hands ending in talon like fingernails. The leader called the chant they slapped their chests in unison and shouted it back to him.

Their leader let out a blood curdling scream. His followers stuck out their black tongues and made snarling noises. The noise they made was almost hypnotic. Thump Thump Thump Thump... “Ahhhoo! Ahhhoo! Ahhhoo!” They continued to stomp their feet and slap their thighs. Thump Thump Thump Thump!

“You die! You die! We live! We live! You die! You die! We live! We live! Here stands the wolf men!”

****

“What the hell did he just say?”

“Ma'am my Atlantean is rusty but this is the rough translation: “You die! You die! We live! We live! You die! You die! We live! We live! Here stands werewolves or something to that effect.”

****

The Battle Thralls worked themselves into a stomping killing frenzy. Their self created beat was hypnotic. It echoed across the dead ground of the LTF. All of a sudden at some signal none of the Shikari or the Technicians watching on the monitors could ascertain, All chanting and movement stopped. The spear wielding Battle Thrall grabbed a large bag off his shoulder. He held it at arm's length, and then he spun tightly in a circle for two short revolutions before he released the bag in a high arcing trajectory which brought the bag to a hollow thump just inside the perimeter of the LTF.

The Battle Thrall then stuck his spear tip in the torch burning furiously. The spear tip caught fire.

****

“Aank One, Aank Two-You folks got this asshole?” Tamari asked calmly. While watching a dark bag arcing through the night air.

“Affirmative One. Affirmative Two.”

“Send mail.”

The Atlantean Battle Thrall started his windup to throw the burning spear. Two distinct coughs echoed softly across the Yetai Village.

The Atlantean spear never left the Battle Thrall's hand as his muscles convulsively gripped the shaft as two 14mm high velocity sniper rounds hit him. Aank One's round punched through his throat. Aank Two's bullet was slightly off due to a parallax error in her sight mechanism. Her round went through his front teeth.

Captain Tamari Kapoor said calmly into the communication channel linking her to the two snipers hiding in the village, “And that is how you deal with that stupid shit. All Shikari Units this is Mungus Six. Shoot those things standing out in the open!”

In short order two squads opened up with machine gun fire and grenade launchers. The Battle Thralls scattered like water in a hot skillet.

“Mungus Six, Hunter six over.”

“Go Hunter.”

“Our intrusion seismographic alerts are going crazy. I think we have the better part of an Imperial lance out....”

Rocket Propelled Grenades shot at a high trajectory along with those boring in on a straight line of sight began impacting the base.

“All Mungus and Hunter Elements! Defend Yourselves Accordingly, and May Durga Protect Us!”

****

“Here it comes boys! Remember your training, and Stand Fast!” Lieutenant Tewarii yelled into the speakerphone system each 'Sangar-in-a-box' fighting position his men and the engineers had constructed.

The 3rd Platoon, of the 3rd Company of the 3rd Battalion belonging to the 27th Shikari Infantry, known affectionately as the 3rd Herd, had basically used a series of large fabric sacks reinforced with high strength fibers interlaced with spun aluminum strands to construct instant walls and Sangars. One front end loader and three personnel guiding the loading, two scoops of assorted material and as sure as Narinda is your aunt, instant wall. Link several together, arrange as you will and you have bunkers or fighting positions. They were great for soaking up massive amounts of small arms fire and fragments from grenades and mortars. Which meant their creation was incredibly fortuitous for 3rd Herd as an incredible storm of bullets and other lethal material quite literally rained down on their positions.

“Mungus Six, Mungus Six, Hunter Six over.”

“Go Hunter.”

“Taking a lot of fire here ma'am. Permission to have local control over our party favors.”

“Negative. Right now they are probing our defenses. Do you see any Infantry out in the open?”

“No ma'am I don't actually.”

“Sit tight. Pull two in four off the wall and sit them down in their Sangars. We only want to get excited when some Atlantean gets a little froggy and decides to actually come up to sell his 'magazine subscriptions' as you put it. The less they know about us the better. Give your boys permission to engage at range if they show themselves.”

“They keep this up much longer, we will take casualties.”

“Affirmative Hunter. Don't worry insults will be offered shortly.”

“Affirmative Mungus six. Hunter Six out.”

All along the perimeter, indirect enemy fire pounded the obvious fortifications of 'Table Top' Logistics Transfer Facility. The four 'Super Sangars' or guard towers took multiple rocket attacks and their burning like torches illuminated their perimeter better than any 81mm illumination round.

Tamari's combat slate opened up a window with her second in command, calling from a bunker just at the base of the village, “From what the sensors are telling us, it looks like the Atlanteans here are maybe two or three companies or what they call a 'Fist.” The big boys are still some hours behind them. What do you want to do ma'am? Do you want to activate some of our minefields or do you want to sit still?” Lieutenant Verna asked as the acting company executive officer.

“Have all of our status reports come in?” Tamari asked.

“Yes ma'am we are Green and Yellow Green across the board.”

“In answer to your query no Aayushi. I want to keep as many of our 'special toys' in the toy chest as long as I can. But I do think the time has come to let them know first hand that this group of Mongooses has teeth.”

Lieutenant Verna nodded her head, as Tamari switched feeds. “Master Technician Patel. Are your girls up and ready?”

Patel's shining bald head slick with sweat came into view with a large toothy grin. “Affirmative ma'am. Radar is tracking and feeding telemetry to the FDC. Spider one is ready for any serious Artillery fire, and number two and three are asleep in their webs.”

“Affirmative. Let us know if you need anything. Keep the feeds up and running as long as you can. You are playing a vital role tonight.”

One of the biggest surprises upon arriving at the Yeti village came about after the local Yeti swore to House Kapoor. Master Sergeant Karak of the 1st Kapoor Scouts introduced his sixty year old nephew Thul. Who just so happened to be an indirect fire instructor and mortar section sergeant.

Tapping her slate, which was tied into the fiber-optic communication network they had constructed to limit Atlantean jamming and intrusion, Tamari called up her indirect fire NCO. “Thul you have the radar feeds. Can you reach out and touch them?”

“Certainly ma'am. They’re dropping 60mm rounds on us. Which means they are right now at the extreme edge of their range. However both our 120mm and 81mm tubes can reach out and spank them like the bad children they are.”

“Good! You have their mortars located?”

“I do ma'am.”

“Then use the 120's to drop three rounds each of white phosphorus with the 81's to drop three rounds High Explosive on the same. Can you do a time on target mission?”

“Honestly? We can come close. We can approximate one ma'am, and for those shits on the receiving end, it won't matter much.”

“Good. Fire when ready.”

“Affirmative ma'am. Give me a minute or two to get back to you.”

“Hunter Six, this is Mungus Six over.”

“Yes ma'am?”

“Got some outgoing mail in a minute. Tell your best eyes to give us an assessment if possible.”

“Affirmative.”

“Mungus Six out.”

****

Sepoy Harran wasn't exactly scared. More like he was pissed. Three RPG rounds had come flying into his position, and thanks to the Atlanteans wearing their light adaptive cloaks, he couldn't see them. Even his built in night vision equipment kept casting weird half reflections. He knew they were out there. He just couldn't hit them.

“I wish those fucking assholes would show themselves. I could at least get a shot out.” He complained to everyone and no one in his Sangar-in-a-box.

It came as a real surprise when an ancient Yeti placed a heavy hand on his battle harness and said, “Don't worry son. I got this.”

Harran looked at the short man who was actually standing atop a ration box, wearing the wildest collection of edged weapons, ammunition belts, dirty cut off shorts, no shoes and a third generation battle helmet with his antique 14mm bolt action rifle propped up in the firing slit.

“What? What are you going to...”

-Crack!- Followed shortly by two more rounds fired in short succession.

Harran saw an arm thrown up and from beneath its camouflage cloak. It squeezed off an RPG into the air almost straight up, with the back blast igniting the short grass around it. With the grass fire, figures could be seen running away. Oh shit! What comes up, must come down!” Harran chuckled to himself as micro-seconds later an RPG round impacted the ground two meters from its origins.

****

Captain Tamari Kapoor's battle slate pinged open with the face of Mortar Sergeant Thul's grim face. “Shot over!”

****

To the Shikari on station in their Sangars watching the Eastern horizon, it looked like enormous old fashion flashbulbs used in the photography of their grandparents day, had gone off in multiple locations; only they had been the size a Godling would use. Followed by the less bright High Explosive rounds from 81mm's pounding the high grass.

Shouts of “Holy shit! And “Get Some!” rang out from position to position.

Grass began to burn with the intensity of a small Sun. Hundreds of phosphorus fragments rained down on the 60mm mortar crews burning at over 2,700 degrees. Those not burned alive were shattered by 81mm rounds bursting in black chrysanthemum flowers of spinning super heated metal shards. At one location the HE and Phosphorous rounds combined with the available fuel load to create a miniature swirling tower of fire.

****

“That's right you assholes! Eat some of that shit!” Sepoy Harran screamed from his position. Jumping up and down. “You are so fucked! You don't even kno...”

A wet slapping noise filled the Sangar-in-a-box as a high velocity 10mm Atlantean sniper round hit Harran just above the bridge of the nose. The hydrostatic pressure of the round caused Harran's brain to liquefy before reaching its maximum density of a semi-liquid compressible state and then exploded in a shower of gore all over his squad mates.

The old Yeti could be heard to say over the sounds of retching, “Keep your heads down. They are still out there.”

****

“ Sergeant Thul. Give my regards to the crews. Excellent shooting. I want you to adjust the fire in a checkerboard pattern like this.” Tamari swiped her battle slate and sent a series of coordinates to her Indirect Fire NCO. “Put two rounds 81mm in those locations. I want the Atlanteans to have to choose between our lines or a stick up their ass.”

“Affirmative ma'am!”

Before he cut the feed, Tamari could hear the stentorian bull roar of his voice shouting, “Fire Mission!”

****

Síkság Province, Grid reference X445Y006

Logistics Transfer Facility-“TableTop” 04:21 AM

Third day of the ORM Offensive:

The sniper fire had lessened somewhat in the ensuing hours. Large swaths of the high grass on the east side of the LTF had been burned to a black cinder. With another 35 minutes before a true sunrise, it was a shock to see the charred corpses of those who where unable to escape the fire of the mortars or lost their way in the conflagration of burning high grass, smoldering where they had fallen in the pink light of a false dawn.

Captain Tamari Kapoor, had made the rounds of her women and men. She had visited with the medics in the aid station. All through her lines she had been met with hesitant smiles and fierce glares of defiance. Master Gunnery Sergeant Chavram had accompanied her, all the while keeping silent, and or making notes on her tablet.

Upon returning to the FDC Tamari had gone up on the roof to the fighting positions where she could observe a series of dust clouds steadily approaching from the far horizon. “What do you think Gunny?”

Looking around to see that no one else stood in ear shot, Master Gunnery Sergeant Chavram spoke softly. “Ma'am. I have no earthly fucking idea. We made some slashing Cavalry style raids when I was in 1st Guards. But I don't think any of our Hegemony forces have been in a stand up fight or even a siege in a long time.”

Tamari didn't reply. She stared at the dust clouds and thought quietly for a moment or two.

Before she could say anything, Chavram spoke up, “However ma'am, that being said. It feels right. It feels like we are doing everything we can to make life miserable for the miscreants who have decided to dance the razza with us.”

Tamari started to reply but Chavram stopped her with a touch of her hand. “Ma'am, this is the first time an Atlanteans and the Hegemony have entered into open warfare. But considering what 'appears' to be coming our way, I don't think anyone around these parts will be able to get comfortable any time soon.”

With perfect timing, only a professional comedienne could have, Sergeant Sita Chambial waked over clutching two steaming hot mugs of her world famous “Heart Attack Special” Chaa. “Brewed up for you both. Enjoy! Breakfast will be up soon.”

Commanding officer and senior NCO both shared a stricken look and a mutual sigh.