Operation: Home Front, The Austrailian Connection by Lieutenant Turbo, TRES Corps. "The enemy will always attack on two occasions: when he's ready; and when you're not." - Murphy's Laws of Combat Operations. Turbo was a very happy man at the moment. He was playing 'Star Wars: Rebellion', as the Empire, and he had encountered the main Rebel fleet and, he was sure, the Rebel HQ. "Yeah, baby!" he crowed triumphantly, quoting 'Austin Powers'. To make it even more enjoyable, it was his major strike fleet that had found the target, and Turbo was sure of victory. When you wheel two Executor-class, a dozen Imperial-class, and two dozen Victory-class Star Destroyers, plus support ships and fighters into a battle, the enemy doesn't stand much of a chance. And when an Interdictor Cruiser is added to the mix, it requires a miracle for the enemy to survive, let alone win. "Oh, great," he heard a mutter from the next room. "What's the matter, Bec? You know you're about to lose?" he taunted. "Next time, *I'm* the Empire, okay?" she called back, ignoring his taunt. "Sure, not that it's going to make a difference," he responded, assigning targets to his fighter groups and task forces. "I'm still going to..." He was interrupted by a sudden chirping sound. "What the... Damn, it's the 'Linker," he muttered, hunting for the source of the sound. He found it, half-buried under a pile of dirty clothes that he hadn't gotten around to washing yet. "Trying to draw it out, are you? Let's just get it over with," Bec called out, having not heard the JihadLinker's chirping. "Hang on a tick," Turbo replied. "Something's come up." Thinking nasty thoughts about whoever it was interrupting his game, he activated it and set it to receive. There was only one message, but it took a fair while to download. he thought while waiting. When it was done, he opened it... and his jaw sagged. The subject line was 'New threat - this is not a drill'. Turbo thought, somewhat dazedly. He had just scattered the latest attempt by the Hell Wyrm to conquer the world, and by some major miracle, managing to help kill B'harnii. In fact, he still hadn't fully recovered from the injuries he had sustained in the process. The body of the message read, "There has been suspicious spongin activity in Kansas over the last few days. A recon mission revealed that a Spongification Array is being constructed in strategic places around the globe. When completed, this would project a powerful spongification field, one that is more powerful than a Sponge Cloud, and not requiring the services of a magic-user. "According to the attached map, there is approximately a dozen Array elements to be placed in Australia. Once again, resources are insufficient to send help. I'm afraid you're on your own again. "Your mission is to investigate these sites, and if there are Array elements there, to destroy them. How you do it is up to you. Good luck." Turbo thought numbly. He opened the image file, and saw the dozen red dots, with six more suspected sites marked in blue, sprinkled on the map. The other attachment contained the mission report of the two Jihaddi that had conducted the initial recon mission, and speculation that the Array would be a delicately balanced network. Turbo thought. He opened his personal organiser, and pressed the 'phone' button. There was someone he could turn to for help... an SAS officer, who was now the Commanding Officer of the Regiment. Who had told him after their Canberra adventure, "If these bastards start making trouble again, we'll be more than happy to help." He'd handed over a scrap of paper with a phone number under the heading 'Stirling Lines Orderly Room' and a hand- drawn picture of a winged dagger in the corner. Turbo picked up the phone and started dialling. * * * * "So tell me again why we're here?" Turbo took a moment to scan the Array Element setup before answering. There was a good-sized antenna farm, along with several pre-fabricated buildings. There were also a number of defensive positions around the perimeter, some containing what looked like heavy weapons. He saw a movement, and swung the binos towards it. The shape that leapt into focus was... A Wyrm Bot. Dug in and camouflaged, to make it more interesting. Now that he knew what to look for, he spotted another five, bringing the total up to an even half-dozen. This was not going to be easy. Turbo looked at his watch. Henderson and his bunch of hooligans were due to arrive in an hour or so. Until then, all he could do was take notes on what they were going to be up against. That done, he turned to Bec and replied, "Hey, you volunteered to tag along." "And I'm regretting it already. I hate the heat," she groused, wiping her forehead with a broad-brimmed hat that was probably too soaked to do much good. In an effort to cope with the heat of the Australian desert, both were wearing the minimum amount of clothing they could get away with. That also meant that Turbo was forced to abandon his armour. The cooling unit he'd built into it had been designed for the considerably cooler eastern coastal area, and was hopelessly inadequate for the current climate. For Turbo, 'minimum clothing' meant a pair of ragged cut-off Australian Army camouflage trousers. Bec added a halter top to that. And they were still sweating like pigs, forced to drink an amount of fluids that had them ducking behind Turbo's 4WD every half-hour or so. Maybe that was why they'd put the Array Element here. Anyone who tried to attack it would probably have more casualties from heat exhaustion and dehydration than the fight. Turbo opened another bottle of Coke and took a healthy swig before making another scan. Apart from the defensive positions, the Element stood out like a sore thumb. Maybe the fact that most of it was painted in the traditional Minion colour of nagenta was the reason. Maybe it was deliberate - make the place seem undefended, to lure unwary attackers into an ambush. That worried Turbo somewhat - it meant that there was someone capable of intelligent thought in charge. Another obstacle to be dealt with, as if there weren't enough already. The rest of the hour passed slowly, with Turbo and Bec exchanging complaints about the heat, and making occasional sweeps with the binos. Turbo caught movement out of the corner of his eye, and turned his full attention in that direction. Was it a spongie patrol? Then he identified the source of the movement. Nope, not spongies. Just a handful of somewhat bedraggled-looking SAS troopers, obviously affected by the heat. "That looks like a tough job," the lead trooper commented with a grin. "Yeah, it's dirty work, but someone's gotta do it," Turbo returned. "What took you guys so long, anyway?" Lieutenant-Colonel Rick Henderson climbed into the back of the 4WD. "We stopped at a pub along the way," he said. "I see you're dressed for the occasion." "Since I have no wish for heat stroke, this is more comfortable," Turbo replied, handing over a bottle of Coke. "Bring all your goodies?" "That's a dumb question," Henderson said, opening the bottle. "Got any more of that?" Turbo nodded and passed bottles to each of the troopers who'd accompanied Henderson on the trek from the vehicles. They were accepted gratefully, and emptied rather quickly. "What have you seen?" Henderson asked when he'd emptied his bottle. By way of reply, Turbo handed the binos over. Henderson scanned the Array Element and whistled. "A company, maybe a half-battalion," he muttered. "With heavy weapons and AFVs to boot." He handed the binos back. "C'mon. We've got a briefing to do." * * * * "...and that's everything I was told." Turbo finished summarising the information that he'd been given and looked around at the assembled squadron and troop commanders. There were a lot more of them than there had been last time he'd had to work with them. Obviously, there'd been some serious rebuilding done. "Ah, shit. Not again," a captain muttered. He'd done this before, and hadn't liked it, obviously. "Why don't these bastards just take a hint?" he asked somewhat plaintively. "That'd be the smart thing to do," Turbo said with a twisted grin. "And these guys are dumb." There was a muted chuckle, and Henderson spoke up. "There are about a dozen or so of these things scattered around the place... and they're very widely separated. This one is going to be a trial run, first of all, to find out if we can do this, and second, to work out how we're going to do this. "O-group here in an hour. Pass the word on to the troops, and make sure that their gear is ready. And make especially sure that they're drinking plenty of water. I don't want to have to carry someone because he's got heat stroke or something." There was a chorus of "Right, boss," as the officers split up to return to their sub-units. "Now we get to work," Henderson said as he, his 2IC and Turbo examined the map, trying to turn scribbled notes into a polished attack plan that would work. Hopefully. * * * * An hour later it was all over. They had thundered down onto the Array Element like the wrath of a particularly annoyed deity. Even having seen the SAS in action in Canberra, Turbo was still impressed. Obviously, standards hadn't been allowed to slip during the rebuilding. They had now split into groups of four, and were moving carefully through the Element site, each group always in a position where it could be covered by two others, in case trouble started up again. Other troopers were moving around the antennas, working out where to place the explosives they'd brought to cause the most destruction. All SAS troopers were trained in demolitions, since that formed a rather large part of their job. Turbo was reminded of something the US Marines said: 'There is no problem that cannot be solved by an appropriately place charge of high explosive'. "What now?" Henderson asked from where he was sitting next to Turbo, supervising the clearing patrols. "Now we see what info we can scoop up," Turbo replied, getting to his feet and heading for what seemed like the headquarters building. Apart from a couple of bullet holes in the wall, the headquarters was intact. Most of the spongin defenders had been away from here, and the Wyrm Bots had been fragged almost before they knew what hit them. Turbo flipped on a computer and waited while the operating system booted up. Predictably enough, the start-up music was the Dark Hymn, and the wallpaper was a picture of B'harnii, with his usual sickly grin. Interestingly, the picture was edged in black. "Nice to know he's still dead," Turbo muttered, as the boot-up sequence finished and a syrupy rendition of the Hell Wyrm's voice chirped from the speaker. "Hi! Are you my friend? Only my friends are allowed to use this toy." Turbo gritted his teeth and resisted the urge to switch the sound off. Since the speakers couldn't be switched off, the only way to silence it would be to smash the speakers with his rifle butt. And that would probably cause massive damage to the rest of the computer. "Great, a password," Henderson grumbled. "Not to worry," Turbo reassured him. "Remember, spongies are exceptionally stupid. So..." He typed, "Yes, Barney! I'm your friend!" valiantly trying not to be sick. "Are you sure? You might be one of those naughty Jihaddi," the voice said. "Only my friends know my song, so if you're my friend, you'll sing with me." "It's lucky they are so stupid," Henderson muttered. "I'd have been pissed off by now." Turbo spotted the microphone. A sudden thought occurred to him. Was it keyed for voice-recognition? If it was, they were in a world of hurt, since they had no idea what they should sound like. They had to take a chance here. Just then, music started from the speakers. Turbo thought. he added sardonically, mangling the old quote. Gritting his teeth again, he sang along with the Hell Wyrm. "I love you, you love me, we're a happy family. With a hug and a kiss from me to you, won't you say you love me too." "Great! You *are* my friend!" the Hell Wyrm's voice chirped. Turbo guzzled half of a 2-litre bottle of Coke to counteract the singing. Suddenly, the Hell Wyrm's image vanished from the screen, to be replaced by a desktop. "Alright!" Turbo said triumphantly. "Now let us see what we can see," he added half to himself, as he began opening text files. "This is going to take a while," he told Henderson. "There's an awful lot of files here." "Is there anything I can bring you before you shut the outside world out?" Henderson asked. "Naah, I've got enough munchies to last." * * * * When Turbo finally emerged from the building, he was mildly surprised to see that it was late in the afternoon. he thought. The temperature had dropped somewhat, forcing Turbo to pull a shirt on. "Find anything interesting?" Henderson asked, handing over a tin of... beef and tortellini, Turbo discovered after a quick glance at the lid. "Yep, quite a bit, actually," Turbo replied, holding up a box of disks. "Their plans for starters." "Anything that we don't know included in that?" "Not really. The gist is, they're going to try to spongify the world - again. After that, who knows?" "Not something we need to worry about right now," Henderson said. "The charges are set. We were just waiting for you to finish playing with the computer before we levelled this place." "Okay, let's get out of here then," Turbo said, heading for his car. "The closest Array Element is... here," he added, pointing at the map. The spot he was pointing to was a good five hundred kilometres away. That tended to happen in the Outback. For the locals, a couple of hundred kilometres was just 'up the road'. "Lead on, MacDuff." They moved off, headed west, while the explosions demolishing the Array Element lit up the sky behind them. * * * * The trip took two days to complete. The five hundred kilometres was a straight line on a map. In reality, that translated into nearly a thousand, as the convoy travelled slowly, and followed roads wherever possible to avoid getting bogged in the soft sand. Each night they stopped to get a few hours' sleep before continuing. After a hurried meal (hurried because the stuff tasted terrible, not because of any tactical considerations), and after equipment was checked and any deficiencies rectified, Turbo and the SAS officers would gather around Henderson's vehicle to plan for the next day - and for a few quick hands of poker. They did both at the same time. "Lucky for us that we brought a lot of petrol jerries," the Alpha Squadron commander commented, glancing at his cards and throwing five dollars into the centre. "See your five and raise you another five," Turbo said. "Yeah, otherwise we'd be out of fuel. I wish you'd brought more jack rations, though." "Match and raise ten," Henderson said. "Yeah, that would be nice. But the more space we devote to food, the less we have for such things as fuel, ammo, and water." "True enough," Turbo conceded. "Call." "Give me three," Bec said as she tossed three cards into the middle. "So, what's the plan for tomorrow?" "The plan is, we keep going," Henderson replied. "At the rate we're going now, we should get there sometime in the afternoon. So, we're going to lay up for the night about ten k's away and hit it in the morning. I'll take one." That raised a few eyebrows. Not the plan, because that was what everyone had figured out for themselves. Turbo thought from behind a carefully blank face. After the next round of betting was complete, everyone displayed their hands. Henderson did have a good hand, a full house with queens over eights. But before he could grin and reach for the money, Turbo casually laid his cards out, revealing four kings. He shot Henderson a grin and scooped up the money himself. So far, it was a toss-up between him and Henderson as to who was ahead the most. But as the song said, 'Never count your money when you're sitting at the table', so Turbo didn't know exactly how much he was ahead. But fifty dollars wouldn't have been too far off. Henderson looked at his watch. "Okay, kids. It's nearly ten, and we have an early start tomorrow. I suggest we get some sleep." Amid the chorus of, "Yes, mum," Turbo said, "Lost enough for one night, boss?" "No, actually, I'm ahead," Henderson replied with a grin. "Not as much as you, I think, but ahead. The others, though... well, they were losing quite badly, some of them, so I thought I'd end their suffering." "Oh, fair enough," Turbo commented with a grin as he headed towards where he'd laid his sleeping bag out. After checking to make sure that none of the local wildlife had taken up residence in it, he crawled in and was asleep in seconds. Continued in part 2...