“If you do everything right, your soldiers can and will die. It's why they call it combat,

and why the other side is called the enemy.”

-The Lost Vedas of Tamari Kapoor.

Síkság Province, Grid reference X445Y006

'Table Top' Village /Logistics Transfer Facility

O6:15 AM third day of ORM Offensive.

Fighting went on all night. All up and down the perimeter sniper fire from both sides rang out. The cries of the wounded Atlanteans, could be heard, often enough it drew medical support who were in turn targeted by snipers. Soon the wounded were left on their own. The Triad Air Defense Artillery Radar picked out Atlantean mortar teams while Mortar Sergeant Thul and his team of amateur gunners dropped 81mm and 120mm down on anything that moved. There was a sharp learning curve for those who survived. Soon targets of opportunity began to drop off in a sharp mathematical equation of those who hadn't yet learned to shoot and move.

The upside, Atlantean 60mm harassment and interdiction fire dropped off to nothing. During the lull between the skirmishers and the Imperial Lances of Atlantis showing up, a certain mean as hell Havildar had been busy with his favorite squad building something in the crossroads.

****

A pile of smoldering bodies burned and charred black lay piled upon each other in a gross parody of rag dolls missing their heads. Their heads however were stacked in a pyramid shape. Shattered equipment had been piled in another. Overlooking all were the dozen or so Thrall heads on simple wooden spikes. Each had their black tongues pulled out and flies were making homes in the empty eye sockets.

“Is that what I think it is?” General Abantza asked, turning to his military aide 'ahots pribatua' or Private Voice, Otoxa. His gold chased armour glinted in the morning light of Kazan, as he stood on a mound of ammunition pallets his men had built so he could view the battlefield.

A tall umber skinned Atlantean officer, wearing the crossed silver and gold bullion thread batons of a military aide to a senior officer replied, “ It is sir.”

“I believe I will line the road with their crucified bodies. And I shall do it the old fashion way, slowly with ropes and when I am done; I will sow the fields with salt and lime. There will be no evidence to show this place ever existed.” Pausing for a moment as he stared at the smoldering piles of dead Atlanteans, General Abantza rubbed his eyes. It had been a long forced march throughout the evening. “Otoxa, summon my Komanders for a final disposition of troops and deployments.”

“By your command, my General.”

****

“You incompetent fool! The Thralls and your Scouts were to follow and pin their location, mark defensive positions and then move to the West. The bridge, the only bridge across this no name river, in this Sugaar blighted country has yet to be seized. Now it is full daylight. You lost most of your Thralls and 60% of your Scouts!” Seizing his War Axe, the symbol of his command General Abantza raised his arm and buried it into the skull of his Werewolf Legion Komander. Everyone in the command group stood shocked and still, the cold talons of dishonorable death having grabbed them by the throat.

Pointing at the XO of the Werewolf Legion, “Komander Toons! Congratulations on your promotion. Take charge of your legion and get me my bridge!”

06:31 AM

Staring through the firing position with a digitally enhanced 72 power optical range unit, Tamari Kapoor keyed her communication channel which linked her to the Jemadar Tewarii. “Can Aank Two see what I am lensing?”

“You mean the collection of shiny bastards who are having a union meeting?”

“The same. Be nice to cut the head off the snake... I think we have found a target worthy of 'Old Contemptible.' I am going to break her out. Over.”

Turning to her sniper team of EOD technicians “Please break out and make our favorite hand cannon ready.”

Vishnu Military Industries or VMI Model Number Six Anti-material Rifle would be considered a monster by any living entity. It was over a meter and half long, weighed in at 22 Kilograms and took two people to assemble and prepare for firing. It was a 14.9mm rifle, using an enormous 20mm cannon round adapted for shooting bunkers, or unexploded ordnance too dangerous for technicians to diffuse personally. It had fantastic penetrating power making enemy armored turret assemblies on Tanks and AFVs look like a hot knife had cut through Gee. It also made for one of the largest sniper rifles in existence. Hegemonic Combat Engineers luckily had one per company.

****

06:32:20

A short Atlantean officer of Military Intelligence with a milky dead left eye and a dueling scar puckering his left cheek consulted his data reader as he spoke of what his troops had discovered, “General Sir, we have added up their strength. They roughly have what they call a 'Battalion' level indirect weapons capabilities. We have counted three 120mm tubes and six 81mm mortars working in pairs of two. Our drones tell us, they have them inside of the homes up in the village under cover and concealment. We also think they have some sort of radar system. They are dug into their base like Bilar ticks. It's going to take the better part of a full Imperial Lance, just to dig them out. What we don't have is a strength level. They are remarkably staying under cover. Nor are our signals intercept able to get much of anything from them. We believe they have realized the extent of our penetration into their system and are using some sort of fiber or hardwired system. ”

General Abantza spoke in a command voice, “Listen up all of you. When I assumed this Task Force, I prayed to Sugar for a willing and competent foe. What I should have prayed for is a competent command. They have baited us, killed us without reply, and the vast majority of you are acting like this is your first field exercise! We will keep them pinned in place and reduce their Logistics base to rubble. However, our fight is to the West. The West! Where our resupplies are located. Where the Enemy has their base and their soft civilians. They should and will be the meat for our dinner.” Pointing down at his feet, where the bleeding corpse of his former Komander lay, “That is the price of failure and cowardice. IF! The enemy doesn’t kill you, I will. Now! Let us plan on how we are going to remove this pimple from our ass…”

****

The projectile for 'Old Contemptible' was a necked down 20mm cannon round made to accommodate a 14.9mm carbide steel with a depleted Uranium core bullet weighing 109 grams. When fired the monster anti-material round, designed for blowing up bombs and destroying targets at range, traveling at over 1,021 meters a second while leaving contrails as it compressed air molecules in its supersonic passage.

“Remind me again how large a force this round will impact with?” Captain Tamari Kapoor asked the company's Sniper Aank One.

“Ma'am at range it should hit with roughly 21 Tonnes of force. Makes one of those Hairy Elephants pretty much explode. It is almost as if you have called in direct fire artillery.”

“That should do it. Are you ready?”

“Yes ma'am. We have slaved the scope to the target/range equipment. Ma'am just so you know, I couldn't spot that target without our equipment. It's just too far.” She paused and then said, “Sithai begin calling out the numbers.”

A medium sized woman possessing very serious hazel gold eyes, who wore the crossed lightning bolts behind an old fashion bomb badge of an EOD technician, began softly calling out numbers. “Range: 4,950 meters. Cross wind, 3 to 5 kilometers north, north east. Temperature, 27...”

“Aank One, this should come as a really unpleasant surprise for those who think they are out of range.”

****

06:35:09 AM

Scowling, at the report his MI Komander had just finished, General Abantza ground out, “Priest I am here at this location at your behest. I would much rather be pushing towards the West, and helping to throw the Hegemony out of the country. Do you have any updates considering this Kapoor Bitch I am supposed to kill? Because we can isolate this base and starve them or kill them piecemeal as they try to break out. I don't think we should be spending our efforts uselessly on trying to attack fixed positions.”

The oily voice of Hexarar Priest of Sugaar the Grand Dragon, Political Officer and Hades Komando Major, slid smoothly into place, “Yes my General. We are supposed to be here. By command of the Emperor himself, May he live forever! My assets who were in place confirmed it with a voice and data burst yesterday.”

“Priest, how reliable are these so-called assets?”

Walking over to where he could stand next to Abantza, Hexarar pointed towards the crossroads. “See the trio of civilians hanging from the posts. That is my two younger brothers and my sister-in-law.”

Scratching his chin, General Abantza merely grunted, as he picked up his field glasses to look over the rictus stiff corpses wired upright on poles.

****

06:35:11 AM

Snick, snack. The bolt closed on the enormous adapted cannon round. A single word was whispered, “Sending.”

****

06:35:16 AM

“Otoxa what do my Under-Komanders to report?”

Stepping in front of his General, Otoxa cleared his throat, “General..”

The tall young aide stood several centimeters taller than his commanding officer, it was this fact and this fact alone which saved the General's life. The 14.9mm Anti-material round hit the communication and data set strapped to the young aide's back. The force of the impact might as well have been bomb going off. His body quite literally exploded in a rapidly expanding circle of vaporized soft body tissue, uniform and bone fragments along with his equipment which fractured into spinning razor sharp instruments of death and destruction.

The Komanders on either side of the General were slain as the kinetic energy measured in tonnes expended itself, but not before the slightly deformed penetrator skipped ever so slightly downwards and through the young officer's body. Still traveling at slightly less than a thousand meters a second it missed Abantza by mere millimeters, grazing the snap down attachments on his shoulder pauldron armor and flipping him backwards off the ammunition pallets landing three meters away covered in gore.

****

06:36:11 AM

“Hunter Six to Mungus Six over.”

“Go Hunter.”

“My spotter says we might have a 'possible' on Mr. Shiny Pants.”

“I think we pissed them off.”

“I think you're right ma'am. Look at em go.”

Atlantean forces filled the area where moments earlier a large number of their commanders were having a war council. They milled around like fire ants who have had their nest kicked over. One unit in particular wheeled to the north for a half of a kilometer before wheeling again towards the west.

“Hunter Six, looks like they are finally getting their act together and are going to make a run for the bridge or make a push for you and your boys down in the bunkers. Hold 'em as long as you can. Mungus Six out.”

“Affirmative. Best of luck ma'am. Remember 'magazine salesmen' are notoriously hard headed. These look harder than most. Hunter Six out.”

****

06:41:44 AM

Turning to walk away and back to the FDC/Command Center Tamari patted her sniper team on the shoulders. “Good work girls. How many of those 14.9 rounds do we have in inventory, before you have to change back to your regular 14mm rifle?”

“We have forty nine rounds left ma'am.”

“Then make them count for something. Only high value targets. Officers and especially those Monster things walking around. You see one of those 'Thralls' or a group of 'em, spank them. Spank them hard.”

Two ear to ear smiles met her face, with a mutual “Yes ma'am!”

“Carry on then.”

****

07:03 AM

No sooner than Captain Tamari Kapoor had entered her Command Center, Lieutenant Verna, Chief Hebbar and Master Gunnery Sergeant Chavram along with Mortar Sergeant Thul were waiting for her. She sat down in the makeshift chair provided for her, and began, “Folks I think we have angered them enough. If you weren't following on the fiber net, we just came within a gnat's eyelash of potting one of, if not their commanding General. Two things are going to happen. Either they are going to get cautious and pound us flatter than Nan or they are going to move the heavens and earth to take this place. I vote for the latter.”

Hebbar cleared her throat with her characteristic harrumphing, “Ma'am, I have activated our second tier and third tier observation nodes. We should have constant video feeds up and running from most of our locations. And Lieutenant Sagwle and our detached AFVs and Militia under Master Sergeant Karak report they are in position and ready to go.”

Turning to Lieutenant Verna, “Aayushi have you got anything?”

“Other than wishing I was at home eating breakfast with my husband? Nope. I think we have accomplished as much as we could. Sangars are rigged; along with our buckets of Hell Fire, which have been continuity circuit checked and are ready. The tunnels are covered and ready for redeployment when and if they are needed. I have been practically living with the Shikaris and I know they know what the plan is.”

“Gunny? Do you have anything to add?”

“No ma'am. Our casualties have been light. Food's been cooked. Ammunition is distributed. All Yeti-Kapoor dependents are in the deepest bunkers. Medics have moved the surgical suite they found in stores and lastly our Box Wallah Trolls have been buried in their den. Their special equipment is ready to roll.”

“Lastly Sergeant Thul, a couple of things. Great work last night. I know we are in a lull for the next short period. But your boys and girls, worked their asses off. Let them know I am proud of them. But I don't know if you know the old saying, 'The reward for good work done is more good work.' I think you will be down to the clothes you were born with before this siege is done and over with.”

Beaming with pride, Sergeant Thul smiled a toothy grin. “Ma'am we are ready. My son who is ten came up with a wonderful idea he has been working on with his friends since yesterday. I think it will be a tremendous surprise to the Ourtai and Atlanteans.”

“Oh? What would that be?”

“We are peanut farmers. Our harvest is mostly made up of boiled, raw and peanut oil sales to Astania. We have 75,000 Liters of raw peanut oil we finished processing five days ago. We were supposed to get several tanker trucks here for our harvest of oil, but obviously the ORM had other plans. Tosa, my son and his two best friends Jun and Harku have attached the high pressure water pumps we use to irrigate the crops with peanut oil. It makes a great cooking oil. It also mists wonderfully. Our irrigation water heads are still in the fields where our enemies are currently pissing and shitting in.”

“Durga bless deviously creative children...” Then the enormity of what Sergeant Thul said hit Tamari Kapoor like a punch to the nose.

Spinning around to Gunny Sergeant Chavram, with her eyes wide open and a shocked look on her face, “Gunny...”

“Holy shit! I Am On it!”

“Make sure they have radios or something we can call them on!” Tamari Kapoor shouted to the rapidly retreating back of her senior company NCO.

One of the technicians at the monitoring boards shouted “Incoming!”

****

Hegemonic Marine Aviation Base Jindal (forward.)

Oceanic Transfer Station Astania Kazan.

Marine Aviation Squadron MAV-214 “Kula-Kalaṅka/Black Sheep”

07:35 AM third day of ORM Offensive.

Typical of most aviation bases, the air reeked of partially combusted hydrocarbons from various tilt rotor aircraft, turbine powered VTOLs and the blast furnace smell of baked exotic steels from the fusion powered vectored thrust heavy movers. Overlaying this was the rotted organic smell wafting off the Sea of Storms; all port cities in the world with fishing docks and cargo ports shared. It made a heady cocktail for anyone not used to it.

“Gods be damned! This place reeks.” HNN reporter Priya Desai complained to her best friend, and camerawoman Miti.

The older woman smiled and chuckled, “One of the many reasons, I never joined either the Navy or the Marine Corps.”

Both women had been activated back into active service by General Hoysala. Priya previously once was a clerk corporal in a telecommunication unit, now she carried a commission as a First Lieutenant, and Miti had been bumped two grades from her previous retirement rank to Sergeant Major. It provided them possible POW status if captured, kept them from being shot as spies, and ensured to the military powers in-country they would be taken seriously. It also made it easier to assign a six man strong squad of Shikari MP's as a bodyguard/reaction force along with one dogged Kazan Security Officer they had acquired the first night and who refused to leave her side despite the howling objections of their constabulary commander. The seven men had been following her around like lost puppy dogs. This just made it official.

Securing transportation had been fun. The nine of them eventually requisitioned a small yellow taxi bus from a scared Kazan citizen who they escorted to safety the night before. He was happy to loan it to the now famous reporter who went where the heaviest fighting was. Which was why she found herself after a lot of wrangling and arguing with the Marine sentries of the base sweating in the morning sun parked next to a squadron who were both trying to erect their temporary hangar facilities and perform real time, real world missions.

“Miti try to find this lot of goondahs and yourself some shade. I am going to find the commander of this flying circus and see if I can't get us a ride.”

“Affirmative ma'am.” Miti smiled as the young reporter marched away with a forceful step and a determined look in her eyes. 'She has really matured in the past fifty six hours. I guess surviving multiple firefights and house to house combat can do that to a body.'

“Attention on deck!” A young Marine aviation specialist shouted as Priya entered into the rapidly assembling hangar.

The walls were made out of a polymer fabric with a memory retentive positively charged coating. Induced mild electric negative current and the memory fabric began to assume the forms and shape it was designed for. Hangars and out buildings for the squadron were quite literally springing to life.

“At ease Marine.” Priya returned the salute given.

“Yes Ma'am. What can I do for you ma'am?”

“I need to see the squadron commander. I need to speak to her.”

“Wait! You are that reporter who shot those ORM rocket assholes. Aren't you?”

Priya blushed, “Gods! This is embarrassing.” “Yes. Yes I am. I am also in a hurry.”

“Ma'am if you turn around can you see the shipping container which is up on its long axis? That's our temporary ATCT um our Air Traffic Control Tower, and it's also where you will find our Squadron Commander. Who by the way is a he, not a she. Subedar-Major Rathod.”

“Right. Got it. Carry on.”

Priya Desai walked back to her van, explained where she was headed and pointed to a shady spot at the base of the run up tower. Her guards drove her over and she climbed the rickety scaffolding up its sides to where a dozen aviation technicians were hunched over radar and communication arrays or were busy scanning the horizon looking for incoming or outgoing air traffic.

A Marine Technician noticed her standing under the canopy tent. “Yes ma'am is there something we can assist you with?”

“I need to speak to the Commander of MAV-214.”

The technician pointed to a rugged heavily muscled square man who looked too thick to sit in a cockpit let alone fly. His green flight suit was fairly bulged with hard muscles and his ballistics vest was only held close by his personal side arm in its holster. He had the Typical Shikari Marine haircut of a thin strip of hair on top of his head and the sides of his temples were shaved backwards to a point just at the ears. Priya could see biomechanical implant connections. Fusion powered vector thrust aircraft needed a firm hand and a strong mind to multi-task all of the skill sets needed to fly; micro digital flight control implants helped. He was deeply involved with not one but two radio telephone handsets as he also consulted a full sized slate which was alive with scrolling numbers and a miniature radar display.

Lieutenant Priya Desai stood quietly in the door until the Subedar-Major noticed her. She made a pointing gesture to him and then mimicked a conversation with her hand. He nodded his head. Held up a finger to let her know it would be a few minutes and he would 'speak' to her. Priya nodded and walked down the scaffolding to find her merry band of mischief makers.

****

“I guess they quit screwing around and decided to dance.” Sergeant Sita Chambial said over the racket of the incoming 125mm Mortar fire which was hammering the LTF. Atlantean indirect fire teams had been pulled from what appeared to be the rear Imperial Lance and brought forward to work with the Imperial Lance currently to their front. They brought their mortars on small wheeled carriages along with massive and massive amounts of ammunition.

“Can you identify any of those units out there? Tamari texted Warrant Officer Hebbar.

The first Lance to our front, is the Blood Adders or Snakes, from what I can see the unit to the rear is known as the “Broken Skulls” and the units moving to west making for the Bridge are the “Werewolves or Wolf Brothers.””

“Affirmative.”

Tamari pulled up her tactical slate and sent a burst message to her Shikari commander.

“Hunter Six, how are you and your troops holding in your holes?”

“It's getting a little hot down here. Wouldn't mind a nice Hathi Beer right now... But we are holding on. Ballistic cloth is helping with the frags. It would be nice if someone could make them stop for a bit.”

“Affirmative. Working on it. They have massed their mortar companies and they are just out of our range. But we are trying something now. Hold on. Beer and Help on the way. Mungus six out.”

****

“Lieutenant...”

“Lieutenant Priya Desai sir.” Priya answered with the best parade ground salute she could offer.

“Wait! Weren't you the one... with the rocket.”

“Yes sir, guilty as charged.”

“Lieutenant, I don't mean to be rude. But I have almost everyone of my birds in the air, pulling combat ground support missions, or hauling Marine Infantrymen all over this damn place stomping on fires. I am exceedingly busy. What can I do for you?”

“Sir, I think my orders might clear things up for you. This is on a need to know basis.”

Priya flipped open her newly gifted tactical slate. She scrolled down through a series of files, selected the one she needed and opened up a video file filmed in the Red Fort Command and Control Room. A dark complected woman whose features had begun to thicken with age, sat scowling across from the camera furiously smoking on an almost midnight black cigar. She was also wearing the full dress uniform of the Commanding General of all Hegemonic Forces.

“This is General Hoysala. Lieutenant Priya Desai is operating upon my personal orders. She is to be given all assistance without hinder or let. What she does or needs to do, is both in my direction and for the good of the Hegemony. Let no one stop her or keep her from her mission. Hoysala out.”

Priya could see the Squadron Commander of the MAV-214 visibly master his anger and frustration. Especially being given an unknown mission which was going to complicate his life and his troops lives to no end.

“Shit, shit and double shit! What can I do to help Lieutenant?”

“I am sorry sir but I need one of your Sea Eagles.”

With a great deal of visible restraint he replied, “Going where?”

“Central Kazan. We have word of cut off units which may or may not be still alive. However late last night we received a message of a large 'Army' which is in the field fighting around a place on the map at Grid Reference: X445Y006. There are little or no records of anything at that location other than a crossroads of Highway One and several north-south roads meeting up there. But if there is a large force in the field, the General wants to know about it. Especially in light of the fact we are still functionally blind until Space Command can either task new surveillance satellites or launch new ones. And Durga only knows how long that will take.”

“It's going to take at least an hour to get a bird back here. All my aircraft are tasked. But don't worry. I 'll get you a bird.” He said with hatred and death in his eyes towards a distant woman he considered to be a back seat micromanaging General.

Without waiting for Priya to salute, Subedar-Major Rathod spun on his heels and rapidly climbed back into his Air Traffic Control Tower.

Miti piped up from the cool shadows of the ACTC, “Well that went better than I expected. At least he didn't try to accuse you of making off with his youngest son and his dowry or stealing his dog. But I don't think we made a friend there.”

“Nope. He looked pissed.”

“I don't care how he looked. Just so long as we can complete this crazy ass mission Hoysala has sent us on. And if I had been him? I'd told both of us to go piss up a rope. Get in the shade Lieutenant. Have a juice box. I think we are going to be here for a bit.”

****

The Sangar-in-a-box positions of Tamari's 2/221 Engineers, and the Triple 3 of Jemadar Praeg Tewari were getting pasted. Even with triple overhead protective layers of sand bags, steel plate and ballistics cloth curtains they were slowly being ripped to shreds. Hundreds of rounds of 125mm Mortar fire landed on the LTF and all along the perimeter. Three Shikari were killed from splinters from Atlantean cast iron mortar rounds. Six engineers were wounded. Two Yeti-Kapoor Militia members were wounded and two were likely to die from their wounds in the next day or so if not evacuated to a theater level surgery. Tamari had ordered her fighters to get into the side defenses that were actually underground and to the rear of each Sangar-in-a-box. But the order arrived a little too late for some.

If it wasn't for the ever present winds of Kazan, sensor units or no sensor units, drones or even her own mark one eyeballs, Tamari could not see through the cloud of dust, smoke and occasional fire burning. But the wind did blow and it helped to keep her vision of what was steadily marching towards her.

Grabbing her tactical slate, Tamari texted her Mortar Sergeant Thul. “They are pushing up what looks to be like two companies of those damn Thrall things. I've been keeping you back. Now I want you to drop a flaming hot curry of White Phosphorus, HE and those lovely little mushroom anti-personnel munitions we found for the 81mm's. Any normal Infantry types are going to get their feet blown off. Fire Mission as follows...”

****

Thrall Komander Garr yelled out, “There's fresh meat inside those positions boys! Double Time!”

120mm and 81mm Hegemonic mortar fire screamed over their heads impacting the ground behind them in rolling barrage.

“Faster Thralls! We are under their guns! They are missing us! Faster!”

Animalistic howls erupted from over a hundred voices hungry for human blood and the destruction of their foes.

****

“Oh shit Havildar! Here they come! Get the men back in the Sangars!” Jemadar Tewarii shouted to his senior NCO.

****

“Urday! Are you and your box wallah trolls ready to give the enemy a bite in the ass?”

Senior Logistic Technician Urday Prakashi looked ridiculous in his self issued combat gear. He had a latest generation battle helmet on, a ballistics vest, and cut off shorts with hawai chappal or flip flops. His hairy legs looked like he was actually wearing some sort of knitted sports clothing. Viewing his big round belly bulging between the snap closures of his combat vest made Captain Tamari Kapoor laugh, even though death and destruction were raining down on the Logistics Transfer Facility.

“Absolutely ma'am! Our little buddies are ready to roll!”

“Well then be about raining as much destruction down on the people who literally will roast your belly over a fire! We are being attacked by monster cannibal things! Get to it!”

“Affirmative ma'am! I'll let them know these clerks have teeth!”

****

“Chief, when they get ten meters out from our Sangars, I want you to give them the Scimitar directional mines. I want them wounded and bleeding. Then pop the Hell Buckets in their face.”

“Affirmative ma'am.”

****

“Look at those magnificent bastards come on!” Havildar Hal said to himself. At 300 hundred meters he called out, “All Shikari units fire! Light em up boys!”

Thirty 7.62mm rifles sang out in measured tempo. Two 14mm sniper rifles began barking from Aank One and Two. Three 40mm grenade launchers began steadily punching out death and destruction like a sewing machine making a Sari. And still the Thralls came screaming...

The Atlanteans began lifting and shifting their indirect fire missions to the southern side of the LTF, where the village walls tied in with the concrete barriers and concertina wire hazards the Hegemony had erected.

****

“Deploy Shields!” one of the file leaders sang out. It was repeated up and down the line, as old fashioned round shields made out of machined Titanium came off the backs of the Thralls and onto their right forearms. Faster they ran, with the solid thumps of large caliber rounds skipping off their body shields and the lights from the bullet passages flickering in their eyes like sparks from a welder's torch.

****

Three cardboard covers, each two meters by two meters square, fell over from an angled set of holes buried into the LTF. The spoil from the holes had been used to create miniature ramps which elevated anything on top of the ramps to just above the level of the entrenchments and Sangars the engineers and Shikari had built. Out rolled three short squat four caterpillar tread freight tractors. Behind them was a small single axle trailer piled high with ammunition boxes that had been gang linked together. As each box ran empty of ammunition the last round was tied to the first round of the next box. Five thousand rounds of 12.5mm ammunition was carried this way.

Brrrraaaap! Brrrrrap! Brrrrrap! Each 'Little Buddy'' had been equipped with a camera and a remote controlled 12.5 heavy machine gun. They began adding their deadly stream of fire into the deadly mix of missile and lead screaming across the open ground in front of the LTF. The Logistic Box Wallahs were beyond themselves in their sweltering 45 degree buried shipping container. It made the dog's hot sweaty conditions seem worth the sacrifice living in stale air and seeing Senior Technician Urday mostly naked.

****

A rippling sound of small explosions so close together sounding as if, an enormous zipper being pulled, rang out while 36,000-5.6mm steel ball bearings each traveling at over 1,200 meters per second rapidly went supersonic. The first line of Thralls were close enough to the blast, they literally watched their legs severed at the knees. The second wave of Thralls leaped over their comrades bleeding corpses. As bad luck would have it, the second set of Scimitar mines went off catching only a few as many of the remaining 20 mines failed to fire.

“Hoosa! Hoosa! Forward the Thralls of Death!” Screamed many of the surviving file leaders.

20 mm cannon rounds from the Thrall's personal weapons hammered into the vision and firing slits of the Hegemony fortifications.

“Hoosa! Hoosa! Forward! Take their skulls! Hoosa! Hoosa! Kill!”

Fifteen meters from their bunkers Chief Warrant Officer Hebbar pressed the button on the 'Hell Buckets.' Twenty barrels of mixed petroleum, peanut oil and laundry detergent buried at a 30 degree upward slope began discharging raining death and flaming sticky fire into the teeth of the charging Thralls, after the Scimitar mines buried at their base were touched off. For a brief period of time Shiva the Goddess of Destruction was made manifest dancing the dance of creation on the face of the earth...

****

“Now I have become Death, the Destroyer of worlds.” Tamari heard the familiar passage echo in her head.

****

“Do you see them, Sarge?”

“Yeah kid I got 'em in my sights.”

“When are you going to blow the bridge?”

“I got my orders. We are going suck 'em in and then blow this bad girl higher than the Mother Mountain Goddess herself. Now quit talking.”

****

Lieutenant Priya Desai napped fitfully in the shade of the ATCT. Just as she got comfortable the Sun burned her awake. “Durga and Demons! I am tired of the shit. We've been waiting for three hours for our ride. I am also heartily sick of chasing shade.” Prying open an eyeball grimy from fatigue poisons, and general purpose Kazan crud, she rolled her head over to where her friend and Sergeant Major Miti had wisely erected a poncho over her with portions of a communication antenna assembly she used to up link to the home network.

“Fuck this shit Miti. And I hate you for staying cool when I am not.”

“Listen to your ahem.. older and well seasoned sergeant. A good lieutenant learns her lessons from her NCOs or she usually doesn't last long in combat. A good officer also realizes that when she pisses off a superior officer, by demanding he give her a combat essential item like I don't know, a Sea Eagle multiple mission configurable assault aircraft, she might have to cool her heels. Lastly, this is important. Because I thought I taught you this lesson. The conditions you live and work under are solely of your own creation. Now go away or I shall be forced to lecture you once more.”

Priya started to give a sarcastic reply when the inbound noise of a really loud aircraft approaching their position overpowered her hearing and made the newly commissioned Lieutenant put her fingers in her ears.

It was a Sea Eagle snorting and fuming its way across the taxiway opposite where Priya and her people waited. It's surface at first looked like it was painted in some sort of industrial camouflage pattern. Upon closer inspection it was just different colored panels from various aircraft which had been bolted on as hasty replacements or in one instance with what looked like shiny metallic tape. 'Durga! It looks like it is made out of spare parts.'

The long angular shape flared out from the one behind one, flight cockpit to a sizable cargo space. When flying Combat Air Support missions, bolt on wing assemblies with various hard points could be added to the air frame. It had two internal rotating missile launchers in its belly and a 30mm cannon in its nose. It also had a full rotating laser range finder and target designating cupola under the chin of the nose itself. It also sported a split 'V' set of vertical stabilizers. With proper preparations it could even boost itself to a near space orbit.

“Durga, Protector of us all, please don't let that be our ride.” Priya silently prayed to herself, but as she watched the aircraft wobble slightly a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach sent cold fingers through her nervous system. The vectored thrust vents in hover mode seemed to spasmodically wiggle open and close which made the aircraft wobble like a drunk fan dancer on the back half of three day drinking spree.

At the last second landing gear deployed and it touched down ten meters from them and rolled to a stop with the nose of the bird almost touching the tower itself. There was an overpowering smell of exotic high strength alloys heated to furnace temperatures and paint which was not actually dry, some of which actually smelled burned by the engine.

A very masculine voice which went with the muscled torso of the squadron commander of MAV-214 yelled out, “Lieutenant your ride is here. Get on board. You have five minutes! I want you off my airfield and take your garbage men with you!”

Quickly Priya, Miti and her adoring devotees gathered up their kit and marched to where a cargo ramp was in the process of being lowered. As they passed the front of the vehicle one of the Shikaris whistled low while looking at the nose art. There painted below the cockpit a naked woman with an impossibly large chest, proudly being thrust forward with her hands on her lower back. On her head a crown sat askew. However it was the look of sheer insanity married with utter depravity on her face, and the legend painted beneath her picture which caused Priya to pause before boarding, the 'Hangar Queen.'

Miti walked past her with a rucksack full of gear and a leer on her face to match that of the woman on the nose of the ship. “I've made my prayers. I think I can get out of this. But I am not so sure you aren't fucked Lieutenant.” Then she let out a full belly laugh. Slapped Priya on the shoulders. “C'mon girl. Let's get on board.”

****

The last survivors of the first two waves of Thralls hauled themselves through barbed wire entanglements, over bodies of those who died moments before and like eels squirming their way into a mud hole invested in the first series of Sangars they came to.

One of the Thralls made it to where Lieutenant Verma tried to coordinate her women and it appeared before her clothed in flames and smoking burned skin gripping an impossibly large hooked dagger. “Ravi's Demonic son!” She thought.

The Thrall insane with pain, massive amounts of stimulants ingested on orders of its Komander screamed at her. All it wanted to do was kill those things which caused it pain. All conscious thought had disappeared into the animal hind brain of life or death. Aayushi Verma saw her own fate in its eyes.

“Sorry..” Lieutenant Aayushi Verma, wife, structural engineer, combat serving officer of the Hegemonic Army of Hashtur pulled the handle on a wire trigger and the block of Hex-8 in the floor erupted igniting a barrel of poor man's napalm.

****

“Praeg pull your boys out of their positions! The third wave of Thralls is about to hit. I don't think we are going to be able to stop them! Repeat the evacuation now. Can you get Lieutenant Verma? I can't raise her on the fiber-optic lines or the radio.”

“She is gone ma'am.”

With their lines breached, Tamari could feel the tempo and force of will the enemy commander wanted to impose on the battle raging before her. She felt the sharp pain of her best friends passing.

“Affirmative Verma Lost. Fall Back.”

****

12:09:31 PM

Central Kazan

Lieutenant Priya Desai once aboard the fast mover Hanger Queen, walked forward at the direction of the Pilot Commander of the aircraft.

“Hello! My name is Chief Warrant Officer Madhur 'Call sign-Ditch' Parekh. I am the Flight Safety Officer for MAV-214. We are going to be flying today without our customary Gunner or Flight Engineer. So you get the honor of sitting up front! I pulled a flight helmet for you, and your Camerawoman can jack into the external camera feeds and data collection sets from the exterior points on the aircraft from the flight engineer's seat.”

The pilot opened the cabin door and escorted Priya to where she would be sitting. Helped her into the body restraints and plugged in her flight helmet. She then went to the rear of the aircraft to make sure Priya's detachment were strapped in and their kits secured and raised the landing ramp.

When the turbines spooled up, the entire aircraft began to rattle and shake. Harmonic vibrations ran up from the soles of her boots and made her teeth chatter in her skull. The advantages over a traditional jet engine Hanger Queen only needed her liquid nitrogen tanks inspected for her fusion plant. However Priya felt like she was caught inside a vacuum cleaner.

“So Lieutenant... How do you like my bird?”

Before she could catch herself she said, “This hunk of garbage?”

“Aw don't be that way. You'll hurt my girl's feelings. She may look like a hunk of junk. But she did the Lessek run in less than 12 hours!”

“Do me a favor, Chief. Try not to kill us.”

A deep belly laugh from the middle aged pilot's mouth erupted over the speakers in Priya's ears. “I'll try Lieutenant. Just remember though, it isn't the fall that kills you. It's the sudden stop at the end!”

****

12:30:25 Síkság Province,

Grid reference X445Y006

The Atlanteans had struggled all morning through mortar rounds, bunker defense weapons, minefields and three fat little robots who were finally removed from the board by concerted RPG attacks. The Thralls had paid a heavy price for their frontal assault. Of the one hundred who had started their charge, less than twelve were able to answer the recall signal. Atlantean Sappers began investigating the Sangars of the LTF. Every trench/tunnel became a nightmare of attempts to diffuse bombs, plastic explosive charges and Scimitar mines which lined every corner, intersection or individual Sangar. All the while under constant sniper fire, and mortar attacks.

Sapper Sub-Komander Eguzki crawled from the smoking bunker complex and rolled down the wall of sandbags to where he could safely call his Komander. “Sir, it's a trap. All of the field fortifications have been rigged to blow and are empty. We have found tunnels leading west into the village. I lost the better part of two squads to both tripwire and command detonated munitions.

Our real foe has escaped to the village above us, I suggest...”

An 81mm Mortar round fired from the village exploded two meters above Sub-Komander Eguzki shredding his body to bloody pieces.

****

12:41 PM Síkság Province,

Grid reference X445Y006

General Abantza sat at his field desk, while medics did emergency surgery to his shattered shoulder blade, and removed bone splinters from his face and left eyeball. Refusing sedation as he wanted to remain conscious of his battle space. All he could do was fume in silent rage, as battle report after report filtered in telling of death and loss of inertia. “I told them it was madness to try to attack this position. We should have isolated it and disappeared into our bunkers and armories. We could have made the Hegemony pay for this shitty country with blood and treasure for decades!” Reflexively he gripped and released the haft of his war axe. Sharp spears of pain radiated through his skull as his left eye was actually removed from the socket and the ocular cavity washed free from foreign tissue and contaminants.

Gesturing with his right arm to his messengers from the 'Broken Skull' Lance, he barked out “Tell your commander to swing to the south-east. The artillery will shift fire to pound the dead ground in the peanut fields. Maybe we can clear out the damned minefields these bitches have gifted us with. When the fire lifts to the village I want your entire Lance assaulting the ramp up and into the village.”

He then gave orders to the Blood Vipers to continue to push up and through the LTF. Looking at his First Spear, “Hetaxes my old friend, I need you to do what I cannot. Push em! Kick em in the ass! Shoot any and I mean any who don't go forward. Tell them it is better to die on the field than in the charnel pits feeding Thralls. Come back with this witch Kapoor's head or don't come back at all! Now Move!”