Shadow Ops: Fortress Frontier-ARC (pdf conv.) by Myke Cole Page B

something to the Indian man which made him chuckle. “Umm, sorry. I’m just not . . . not used to . . .”
    “Of course,” the man said. “The naga are impressive on first meeting. May I present His Highness Vasuki-Kai, who is my Bandhav and a prince among his people. I am Subedar Major Dhatri.”
    “Subedar Major Dhatri is the Sahir Corps liaison here, on behalf of the government of India.” Crucible said helpfully.
    “That’s the Indian SOC?” Bookbinder asked.
    “Where the hell do you get off barging in here without notice?” Taylor demanded.
    The naga made a burst of angry-sounding hissing, but stopped when Dhatri placed a hand on one of its many elbows.
    “Colonel Taylor, sir. Please accept my apologies for the intrusion,” Dhatri said, his voice not sounding the least bit apologetic.
    “His Highness is greatly concerned in the aftermath of the battle that took place this past night. He respectfully requests to know why he wasn’t alerted to the altercation and why we were not included in this council.”
    The naga hissed over Dhatri’s words, not looking like it was respectfully requesting anything. Its cluster of heads stretched over the table, fixing Taylor with an array of golden eyes. One of the hands yanked a punch-dagger from the sash and cleaned the fingernails of another.
    Taylor bridled but responded in more respectful tones.
    “Please tell your Bandhav that I appreciate his concern and apologize for any inconvenience.” Dhatri translated into what Bookbinder assumed was Hindi. The naga nodded its understanding with those heads currently not occupied with glaring at Taylor.
    “But,” Taylor went on, “I must remind His Highness that the United States of America is a democracy which has relations with the government of the Republic of India, and not the Naga Raja. If His Highness wishes to file a request through you, Subedar Major, on behalf of your government—”
    Vasuki-Kai cut him off with a wave of his hands.
    “Yes, yes,” Dhatri translated. “His Highness is abundantly familiar with your insistence on protocol. He assures you he will register complaints through the proper channels, and he also assures you that he has no faith at all in a response. He asks me to remind you that you are in the presence of royal blood that extends back more than five thousand years, and that you are guests in the Raja’s domain. The Raja is master of all he surveys and tolerates your presence here only out of consideration to his more respectful children.” Dhatri gestured to the Indian flag on his shoulder.
    Taylor blushed, and even Fitzsimmons stirred at the words.
    The colonel looked as if he would retort, but Crucible cut him off, saying, “I know I speak for the colonel when I thank His Highness for his reminder and assure him that we will inform him of any news as it becomes available through normal channels.”
    The naga looked slightly mollified as Dhatri translated. It clapped Bookbinder on the shoulder and turned to go, turning sideways in an effort to fit through a doorway built to accommodate humans. This caused it to trip over its tail, which evoked a hiss that could only have been the naga equivalent of a curse.
    Finally, Vasuki-Kai gave up and took the doorframe broadside, his giant shoulders smashing the sides as easily as if it were made of paper.
    He slithered out, Dhatri in tow, leaving two half-moons in the wood and drywall, Taylor muttering in his wake.
    “The naga,” Crucible explained to Bookbinder over Taylor’s steady stream of profanity, “have rather grandiose ideas about their position in the Source.”
    “They think they fucking run the place!” Taylor said.
    “They’re supposed to be our allies! Hell, the Indian Army uses our Portamancer to get their envoys over here to meet with them in the first place! I will not be talked down to like that on my own post! I swear to Almighty God if I wasn’t . . .”
    “Colonel Taylor is right,” Crucible said to