Operation Pacifica: The Gathering
by Admiral J-Rock, TRES Corps, aka Slider the Feral (NYAR!)




"When action grows unprofitable, gather information. When
  information grows unprofitable, sleep." -- Ursula K. LeGuin, _The Left Hand
  of Darkness_





THE PRESIDIO (DOBERMAN EMPIRE ANNEX), SAN FRANCISCO, CALIFORNIA 
DAY ONE OF OPERATION PACIFICA




 "Good morning, Admiral J-Rock," a computer voice said after a
  strident tone had echoed through the guest quarters. "It is now 0600,
  Pacific Daylight Time. Breakfast will be served from 0630 to 0700. Trooper
  Surtur wishes to speak with you sometime this morning. That is all."


 "Absolutely smegging great," said J-R, noting that he had fallen
  asleep in his street clothes again. "They have these talking alarm clocks
  everywhere now." He briefly considered going back to sleep, but ultimately
  decided against it. His DropShuttle would arrive at 9 AM, and he usually
  took a long time getting ready for departure. That, and the clock had what
  was known as the "Sylia feature", after the anime character who inspired it.
  If one went immediately back to bed after the alarm, the tones would return
  five minutes later, and continue until he pushed a button on a panel in the
  bathroom. I suppose it can't be helped, he thought as he got up and pulled
  off his shirt.


 Rummaging through his bags, J-R briefly considered wearing his
  dress uniform, but decided against that as well. I'm only gonna be here
  three hours, he thought as he pulled a pair of black and grey-striped shorts
  on. And besides, this is a Dobe base. It's not like it's a big state dinner,
  for crying out loud. Having thrown his AggieCon XXVII shirt (slogan: 'Let he
  who is without sin try to survive') over his body, he then went to the full-
  length mirror hanging on the closet door to see to the case of bed-head he
  got almost every morning. About that time, the four-tone sound that
  announced someone at the door sounded. "Come in," he said. "It's open."


 "Sorry," the voice on the other side of the door responded, "the
  doors aren't voice-activated here." J-R stepped over to the door panel and
  hit the green Open button, gawking when the door opened to reveal the person
  who had called on him so early in the morning. Now, J-R wasn't surprised to
  see CyberPyro standing before him in his utilities. He had figured him out
  the second he heard his voice. Seeing his face had only brought to the fore
  J-R's belief that there were too many tall, slim, blond-haired guys in the
  Jihad, no matter how briefly.


 What suprised J-R was the fact that CP was wearing the "double
  diamonds" exclusive to the Grand Admiral of TRES Corps himself. "Where the
  hell is Owsen?" he asked.


 CP sighed. "I knew you'd ask me that," he said. "I'll start at the
  beginning..."



[NOTE: At this point, black-and-white scenes from "Zephania" play across the 
screen with hazy edges, interspersed with shots of CP talking and J-Rock nodding
 his head. This is done so that the audience knows that J-R has been briefed 
without subjecting them to another version of the same story. -- J-R]




 "...so he unloads a roundhouse into my jaw, saying that the Corps
  was in my hands. Drops me right to the ground. By the time I woke up again,
  all I could find was his stuffle," CP said in summation. "But anyway, I
  think I've depressed you enough for now. Let's get something to eat."


 "I don't know if I can after what you just told me, sir," J-R
  replied.


 "Relax. Sam tells me the hotcakes here are superb. And don't call
  me 'sir'."


...



FIVE MINUTES LATER (0635 hours, PDT if you're keeping score.. -- J-R)




 Stepping into the Staff Officer's Mess, J-R was taken completely by
  surprise as he saw the amount of people in the room. There were already
  eleven people there, and less than half would be allowed to eat here under
  normal circumstances. Noting his officer's surprise, CP said, "Most of them
  just got in this morning."


 "I see," declared J-Rock, who didn't. As he got a plate and laid
  two flour torillas on it, he asked, "Aren't you a Doberman Trooper?"


 "I am," replied CP, "but I'm not acting in that capacity today." He
  let J-R spoon some scrambled eggs onto the tortillas before asking, "And
  while we're being anal, aren't you out of uniform?"


 "I didn't know this was a working breakfast," J-R replied as he
  took two pieces of bacon, completing his breakfast tacos. "Besides, I don't
  plan on staying here long." The senior officers made the rest of the trip
  down the buffet line and to a table in silence. Lifting the first breakfast
  taco to his mouth, J-R took another look around the room. And then his tired
  brain finally managed to put names to faces. Korth, Yearnshaw, and wasn't
  that J in the corner?


 My God, J-R thought. One bomb blast here, and over half the Corps
  Admiralty would be wiped out! Putting the taco down, he looked CP in the eye
  and said, "Ok, CP, level with me. Over half the people in this room, not
  counting us, are TRES Corps, including three flag officers. Just what the
  smeg is going on?"


 CP said, "A few days ago, our intel birds picked up a previously
  undiscovered island in the Pacific, just south of the equator."


 "What difference does that make?" J-R asked, taking bites of his
  breakfast taco as the conversation continued.


 "Well, further scans indicated no underlying rock to support such
  an island. And what appeared to be some of our own people."


 "I'm with you," J-Rock said, his curiosity piqued.


 "We have a lot of personnel MIA as a result of Operation Phoenix.
  One of them was Captain Hamster. The birds also picked up some vital signs
  that belonged to a dragon."


 "And you think Tall, Green, and Scaly's on this island?"


 "There's no question the dragon is Hamster. In addition, our scans
  showed Sponge-Minions on this island."


 "So what you're trying to tell me is that this is all one big
  rescue mission?"


 "In a word, yes."


 "Then why come here? Wouldn't it be easier to fly over there?"


 CP sighed. "We have no wet navy, nor any idea what to expect once
  we get there. Finding the island was a one-in-a-hundred chance at best.
  Besides, recent events bear out the wisdom of reconnissance-in-force. I, for
  one, feel safer knowing I have Big Ass Guns guarding my back, wouldn't you
  agree?"


 "So you ask Samhain if you can borrow some ships. Brilliant." J-R
  downed the last of his OJ (the beverage, not the bloke) and stood up. "Now
  if you'll excuse me, I have a DropShuttle to catch."


 "No you don't, it's been cancelled."


 J-R started slightly before turning his head towards CP. "What?"


 "As of this minute, you've been added to the Pacifica Task Force.
  For your information, I ran this plan by Samhain, and he's coming too."


 "WHAT?!?!" J-R shouted, his whole body turned towards CP. Then in a
  much more subdued tone of voice, he said, "Why didn't I see this coming?"


 "Because you're not usually up at this hour?" CP asked, smiling.


 J-R gave him a look that could melt titanium.


 CP's smile faded. "Look, I know you've been away from home for the
  past two months. I'd want to go back as much as you do. But this mission
  shouldn't take any longer than a week at the latest. Now calm down; I'd like
  to have Kappa Squad's commander back before we set sail."


 J-R exhaled slowly. One more week, he thought. This shouldn't suck
  as much as the BJSF paperwork. "Very well, Grand Admiral."



...



ANOTHER FIVE MINUTES LATER




 J-R entered his room in a huff. And here I was all set to go home,
  he thought. Then this comes up. Sigh. He went straight to his bag and dug
  out a blue and red koosh ball. Then he fell back on the bed, tossing the
  koosh ball up in the air. As he landed, a wrapped bundle which he hadn't
  even noticed dug into the small of his back, making him lose concentration.
  This allowed the koosh ball to hit him square in the nose before rolling
  onto the floor. He sat right back up and unwrapped the bundle, all thoughts
  of picking up the koosh abandoned.



# Stabbing Westward "Dawn" _"Escape From L.A." soundtrack_




 Inside the bundle was a TRES-spec soft battlesuit, done up to
  resemble Corps battle dress. It was olive in color, with splashes of forest
  green breaking up the solidity here and there. On the left shoulder was a
  TRES Admiral's insignia, and the right had the unit patch of Kappa Squad.
  Here he did a double-take. Instead of the patch being silver and black, it
  was now red and yellow. "Exsqueeze me?" J-Rock asked audibly. Then he saw
  the Post-It note stuck to the left breast over the Gizmonics badge. He
  snatched it off and began to read:


"You may be surpised by your squad colors. While you were away, we
  redid them all in order to better tell our squads apart. You might not like
  it at first. All I'm asking is that you try it out for a few months. If you
  still don't like it then, let me know. - CP"


 "At least they didn't make the suit entirely in squad colors," J-R
  said. "I'd look like Burnout of Gen-13." Oh well, no use fighting it now, he
  thought as he changed into the soft-suit.


 The four-tone sounded again just as J-R secured the last fastener
  on the soft-suit. Picking up the koosh ball, he threw it at the panel,
  hitting the green button.


 "Ah, I see you've found the parcel Trooper Surtur left you," said
  Cochraine as he entered the room. "Fleet Commander Samhain wants you to go
  to Meeting Hall Two for a senior commander's meeting."


 "Did he say what the meeting was about?"


 "He said something about ships and the expeditionary force. That's
  all I can remember. Are you packed?"


 "What are you talking about?"


 "While the meeting is going on, your luggage will be taken to your
  new command. After the meeting, we'll get you kitted out."


 "I have just about everything I'll need in this room," J-Rock
  replied, wondering if he would be commanding one of the Doberman
  battleships. "Except maybe a ride once we get to the island."


 "Jolly good, sir," Cochraine said, already picking up a hard-sided
  case as J-R put the koosh ball back in his carryon. "Excuse me, sir," said
  Cochraine a few seconds later. "What is this 'Wildmon Plasma Shotgun'?"


 "I'll tell you about it later," J-R replied as the door closed
  behind him.




# The George Baker Selection "Little Green Bag" _"Reservoir Dogs" soundtrack_



TO BE CONTINUED...