Operation Home Front: Early Arrival
 Author: Jennifer Burdoo, TRES Corps.

     Jennifer sighed. What had she gotten herself into? She'd just
   gotten back from a grueling day of classes, made worse by lack
   of sleep and general exhaustion caused by biking out to Tuttle
   Creek Dam for a desponge operation. She'd spent an hour working
   up a report, made difficult by the fact that she wasn't very
   computer-literate yet had to include spongin files which were
   incompatible with everything except Murkysoft Windoze 95, which
   she didn't have. She'd ended up "borrowing" the format of an
   official report cribbed from the CO of the operation.
     Then she'd taken three tests (downing six cans o' Coke on the
   way), written a six-page book report at the last minute, and
   babbled her way through a speech on dust mites (or had it been
   the space program?). Now all she wanted was to go to sleep.
     But noooo, there had to be another message on JihadMail when
   she got in, ready to sack out. Backdated four hours, it read:
         Report to Sumner County, Immediately.  --Marburger
     So, she staggered out into the parking lot, which as usual was
   full up. Standing in one of the few clear spaces, she drew a
   small cubical control from her back pocket and punched a couple
   buttons. A few loud flashes and sparks later, a large....thing
   shimmered into existence and slammed into the asphalt.
     Well, there was one benefit to being a Jihaddi --
   interdimensional parking. You really needed it on this campus.
     The TRES hovercar-prototype was Jen's contribution to the
   current debate over what would replace the TARAV, which was
   being slowly phased out of service. It was a bulbous, teardrop-
   shaped vehicle, driven by a hover engine which more than paid
   for its immense weight by lifting it a handsbreath above the
   ground. The thirty-ton hovercar could skim over almost any
   terrain at 90 miles an hour cruise speed. Top speed was 160.
   Partly open-topped (though covers were available), it could lift
   a variety of heavy weapons that could be remote-controlled if
   desired. It also contained your basic AI-with-an-Attitude.
     [Hey there, shorty. Long time no see,] said the AI as Jennifer
   threw herself over the coaming and collapsed into the soft
   cushioning of the driver's seat. [Where to?]
     "Sumner County, boy." Jen blearily tapped in the coordinates.
     The AI whirred as it digested the information and compared it
   with what else it could pull off the JihadNet[tm]. [Cool! We get
   to fight?]
          "Yeah. Now shuttup an' lemme sleee...p."
     [Yes Ma'am!] The AI obliged by kicking her seat back into a
   horizontal position and starting up a random tape of Civil War
   guitar music. Jennifer was fast asleep even before the hover
   engine whined up, punching the car off the ground and zooming
   off into the night under autopilot, playing "Haste to the
   Wedding" on high volume on the outside speakers. [Whee-hah!]
         Two hours later....
    Corporal Bobby Johnson of the HellWyrm Armor Division was
   tired. Yawning from the turret of the purple-and-gray Abrams
   tank he wondered vaguely what he was doing out in the middle of
   nowhere. One of B'harnii's really good friends had told him to
   watch for the mean Jihaddi, as if they were smart enough to find
   B'harnii's secret base. He wished B'harnii were here to make
   life more bearable. But, no, B'harnii had taken another
   vacation, he seemed to be traveling alot lately. Bobby hoped the
   Luvable One would return soon. Following standard procedure in
   these cases, he snuggled down, shut his eyes tight and tried to
   imagine that Barney was with him, there in the turret, as he
   hummed Its Song to himself in the moonlight.
     The other minions in other tanks nearby joined in quietly.
   They were all scared; they all missed their B'harnii.
     "Bobby, do you hear that?" One of the whispered anxiously,
   cocking his head into the darkness.
     The quiet humming stopped. "Uh-huh..." He covered his ears
   with his hands. "Make it stop!" The faint hum of bagpipes
   floated over the long grass.
     "It's getting closer!" The other minion whined, grabbing for
   the .50 cal. machine gun slung alongside the turret. He began
   shooting wildly, desperate to make the horrid noise stop.
         "WHA WADNA FECHT FOR CHARLIE, WHA WADNA DRAW THE SWORD --"
          -silence.
         "WHA WADNA UP AN' RALLY, AT THE ROYAL PRINCE'S WORD,"
     blared the hovercar at top volume as it thundered over the
   rise. The 130-mm mortar hunched at the rear belched fire and a
   tank abruptly exploded.
     [Yee-hah!] went the AI as it efficiently picked off another
   tank. Bobby could only watch, stunned by the drum crescendo of
   your average Scots war song. The bagpipes hurt his ears. He
   curled into a fetal position in the turret, gripping his Barney
   doll tightly but unable to shut his ears to the Corries' version
   of a cross between folk and heavy metal. Crying in pain, he
   never saw the mortar swing in the direction of his tank.
         .....
          "Something -is- going on out there. Gods only know what."
     The two Jihaddi glanced at each other, concerned. There had to
   be something to explain the faint bagpipe music, gunfire and
   glow on the horizon. The B'harnate forces couldn't have found
   them yet, they had just arrived, but yet...
     As they watched, a shape seemed to detatch itself from the
   darkness, literally whistling "Dixie" as it skimmed over the
   grass towards the perimeter.
     "What the hell is THAT?" one of the soldiers gasped. He was
   staring awestruck at the hovercar, which, decked out in TRES
   Corps, Zeta Squad markings, hummed its way into the rapidly
   emptied clearing. "Shut off those lights! Do you want someone to
   spot you!?"
     [Uh, sorry about that, sir. Where can I park?] The perky AI
   seemed a little dazed and cheerful after its shootout with the
   B'harnate armored platoon.
     "Uh...." The soldier scratched his head and jerked a thumb to
   the left. "Over there?"
     [Thanks!] The hovercar whirred past, then stopped. [Say, can
   you send someone out here to put my driver to bed?]
     "What....good grief." The soldier shook his head, and dazedly
   helped his partner lift the unconscious woman out of the
   hovercraft, muttering under his breath, "I don't believe it, she
   slept through the whole damn thing...."

         To Be Continued...