Operation Pacifica: The Coming Of Shadows
by Admiral J-Rock, aka Slider the Feral (NYAR!)




"The art of war is simple enough. Find out where your enemy is. Get
  at him as soon as you can. Strike at him as hard as you can, and keep moving
  on." - Ulysses S. Grant



SPONGIN CITY FOUND ON PACIFICA ISLAND
DAY TEN OF OPERATION PACIFICA


# White Zombie "Ratfinks, Suicide Tanks, and Cannibal Girls" _"Beavis and Butt-Head Do America" soundtrack_


 "Tango-3, you got Spongin infantry coming your way!" J-Rock shouted
  as he led his relief force through the streets, hoping to create an
  opportunity for CP's main force to break out of the trap laid for them. The
  report of the TARAV's Autochunker (tm) echoed, heralding the death of the
  infantry platoon that had sought to surprise it. "Thanks, Admiral!" sent the
  driver.


 "No problem," J-Rock replied. "Just keep moving! Gotta go, gotta
  go!" The way over had been easy for all of two minutes before Wyrm-Minion
  infantry began to take potshots from buildings and side streets, forcing the
  TARAVs to waste time hunting them down before they could do more damage.
  'Normally, street fighting is handled with caution,' J-R thought. 'Lord
  knows it's how I'd handle this otherwise.' But time had limited his choices
  drastically.  "Pick it up some," he radioed. "Or our main forces will be a
  memory by the time we arrive!"


 About that time, what seemed to be a purple haze swept over the
  TARAVs. The armored vehicles shook slightly as the haze washed over them,
  except for the one TARAV that had its top hatch open. The gunner had managed
  to turn the Autochunker (tm) in the direction of the haze before cuts and
  various other wounds began to etch themselves across his body. The haze
  poured in through the hatch, soon followed by the screams of Dobermenschen
  being cut down and cut up. "Smudges!" J-R yelled. "Step on it!"


 The TARAV drivers didn't need any further encouragement. As they
  sped ahead, J-R fired a 40mm HEAT round through the abandoned TARAV's
  viewport, destroying it and any Smudges left inside. He then switched to
  frag rounds and sowed explosive death into the sea of Smudge. But there were
  just too many Smudges for the rec-rifle to claim them all. Then an idea
  crept into J-R's head. "Why not?" he mused, bringing his power armor to a
  standstill and spreading his arms in a Jesus Christ pose.


 "What the hell's he doin'?" asked a marine as he looked out the
  periscope at the MADOX-03 inviting the feared Smudges to come chop his head
  off. And come they did, completely surrounding the powersuit in a matter of
  moments. "I don't care if he is a Golden Age Jihaddi, he's either stupid,
  or... don't tell me," the marine noted as the MADOX seemed to explode in a
  cloud of plastic flechettes, which ripped through and decimated the
  tightening ring in the space of a few heartbeats.


 "Told ya I'd hold 'em off," J-R said over the radio, his MADOX
  standing on a island in a large puddle of purple goo virtually unscathed.


 The observers were amazed, to say the least. "Just how the hell did
  you pull that off?" said the radioman on one TARAV.


 "Detonated my BRP packs. Good thing these Smudges specialize in
  melee combat, otherwise I'd be in trouble. Now move out, time's a' wastin'."


...



TEN MINUTES LATER...


 TARAVs and MADOX tore through the streets, squeezing all the speed
  that they could out of their machines. For J-Rock, the whole thing smacked
  of deja vu. Here he was, going balls to the wall in his MADOX-03, traveling
  through narrow passages seeking to avert disaster.


 Red dots indicating enemy targets appeared on the periphery of J-
  R's radar display. A query by the targeting system showed them to be Wyrm
  Bots, with all three flavors represented. "I wanted to bring a 'Mech, CP,"
  J-R said bitterly under his breath, "but noooo..."



# Scorpions "Hit Between The Eyes" _Crazy World_


 Keying the radio once again, he said, "We've got Wyrm Bots up
  ahead.  When I give the signal, go on towards the main force. Don't stop for
  anything."


 "What about you?" the radioman asked.


 "I'll catch up." The MADOX rounded the corner, only to come face to
  face with a B'Habii B'Hop Bot. 20mm tracers sallied forth from the assault
  cannon, ravaging the face like acne of the worst kind before penetrating the
  armor. Structural supports wilted like parched flowers before the head blew
  apart like an overripe tomato struck by a sledgehammer.


 The second B'Habii B'Hopp Bot reared its arm back for a BLANKEE
  cast, but it was promptly amputated at the shoulder by a 40mm HEAT shell
  before any forward movement on its part. Another shell, the second half of a
  rec-rifle double-tap, tracked inward to hit the torso. It made an entry hole
  the size of a tennis ball and an exit hole the size of a two-car garage,
  with the remnants of such important systems as the gyro, engine, and
  internal structure blowing out the back. "Now!" J-Rock radioed as the
  stricken Bot fell to earth.


 Twelve ion bolts from the B'Hii J'Haa Bots chased the battlesuit
  into the shadow of an office building, their Sponge-Minion pilots intent on
  avenging their fellows. As such, they were blissfully unaware of the TARAVs
  until 30mm HE grenades from three Autochunkers (tm) thoroughly waxed a B'Hii
  J'Haa Bot. As the TARAVs sped away, one of the surviving B'Hii J'Haa Bots
  lit its jump jets in pursuit, rising into the air on a column of argent
  flame. Its flightpath, unfortunately for its pilot, took it over J-Rock's
  head. "Up yours," J-R muttered, pointing the left arm up into the air and
  launching a plasma mini-missile.


 The missile didn't even bother to Robotech before hitting the Bot
  where its anus would be. Expanding plasma distended the Bot's abdomen as
  internal supports melted from the plasma's hellish caress. Moreover, it
  caused the jump jets to misalign, giving the Bot a wobble that turned into a
  forward somersault. Flying through the air with all of the aerodynamics God
  gave the average mountain, the Bot smacked into an apartment building and
  promptly exploded, scattering parts of both over a 200-yard radius.


 While this was going on, the last B'Hii J'Haa Bot lit its jump jets
  as well, B'Harnium great sword cocked back for a two-handed chop. J-Rock
  just slung his rec-rifle and watched the Bot come down.


 Corporal Locarno allowed a particularly goofy grin to cross her
  face.  There the unstuuuu-pendous Jihaddi stood, as if daring her to attack
  him. If he was in such a hurry to die, then she was all too willing to
  oblige. She brought her Bot's sword forward with more than enough force to
  crack the battlesuit like an eggshell...


 Only to tear a good-sized hole in the pavement. She gave a cry of
  alarm as the rear monitor registered the MADOX-03 speeding away. Snarling,
  she brought the Bot around to give chase. Before she could turn all the way
  around, the melta bombs planted near the Bot's hips by J-Rock detonated.
  Explosions blossomed across the Bot's pelvis, burning through armor as if it
  were tissue paper. Its destructive energy not yet spent, the blast expanded
  into the Bot's internals, superheating and melting the ferro-B'Harnium
  bones.


 Without anything holding the torso up, the Bot fell to the ground
  none too gently, landing on top of its fallen left leg. The right leg stayed
  up a while longer before falling across the right arm, pinning the quad-ion
  battery in place. Only the tail saved her from falling on her back, but her
  Bot was little more than a gun emplacement.


 But she still had her hat laser. Turning the bill of the cap toward
  the fleeing Jihaddi, she lined up her target only to have it turn around and
  squeeze off a shot from the rec-rifle it carried.


 The HEAT shell hit the seam between head and hat, literally blowing
  said hat clean off to land some 65 meters behind the Bot. "Waaaaaah!" cried
  Locarno, hoping and praying that B'Harne would fix the mess she was in.


...



 "Sometimes it's so easy," J-Rock declared as he sped away, "I'm
  ashamed of mysel--OOOFFF!" A Hell Wyrm Bot had lashed out with its tail,
  smacking the MADOX-03 firmly in the left side and sending it through the
  front window of some beverage-drinking establishment.


 "Owwwww," J-R said as he got to his feet, assessing the damage.
  "Let's not do that again."


 "Hey, you're gonna pay for that window!" a saurian being with taped
  glasses said from behind a bar where he was serving any beverage you like,
  as long as it was milk. Other cries of protest echoed from the patrons, who
  were listening to another saurian of the bartender's species read "Paradise
  Lost." A neon sign above the bar read, "El Banyo Diablo -- Cantina del
  Leche." The whole atmosphere was like a coffeehouse, in a way, except that
  java wasn't being served here.


 J-Rock looked down. The reader had been crushed under the weight of
  flying MADOX, scattering book and open mike everywhere. "Well," he replied
  at length, "you're in a war zone. These things are bound to happen."


 "It doesn't matter! You can't just barge in here, flatten our
  friend on stage, and start telling us what's what."


 J-Rock showed his battered left side to the allosaurians present.
  "Does it look like I came in here by choice?" he asked.


 "But you did come to this island. This place is on the island you
  came to. Therefore, o crashing bore, you came in here by choice."


 J-R forced himself to laugh. "Is everyone else of your race as
  adept at chopped logic as you?" he queried.


 "Your question proves that we, the Malevolent Enlightened Nagenta
  Saurians Ascendant, are intellectually superior to the likes of you and your
  pathetic Jihad."


 'That spells MENSA,' J-R thought. 'When does the hurting stop?'
  "Well, then it should be obvious to you that this whole conversation is a
  farce!" he said, trying his best to keep his voice neutral. "Why even ally
  with B'Harne when he is the antithesis of intelligent thought itself?"


 "Our schemes may be too complicated for someone of your intellect
  to understand, but I'll do my best to enlighten you. We see it as a way of
  eliminating the competition, so to speak. You are right about one thing, I
  must admit. This conversation is indeed a farce." The MENSAn reached under
  the bar, bringing a shotgun to bear on the MADOX. "And you are now my
  prisoner."


 J-R revved the barrel motor on his assault cannon while jacking a
  frag round into his rec-rifle's breech. "I don't think you understand the
  gravity of your situation," he growled, all traces of intellectual restraint
  having vanished.


 The sound of bolts being cocked brought J-R's attention to the rest
  of the MENSAns inside, who had whipped out a wide assortment of assault
  rifles and submachineguns. "You were saying?" the bartender asked.


# Anthrax "Caught In A Mosh" _Among The Living_


 The MADOX responded with a rolling burst from the assault cannon,
  sweeping the room and sending those MENSAns not shot full of holes diving
  under the tables. Every gun in the place underscored the saurians' arguments
  a few seconds later, forcing J-Rock to hit the hoverjets and scoot into an
  unused section of the milkhouse, knocking down a nagenta velvet rope and
  accompanying posts.


 Quite a few bullets pockmarked the battlesuit's armor as those
  MENSAns closest to the window followed J-R into the room. "F**k off," he
  growled, snap-firing the frag round in their general direction. The
  resulting explosion scattered dead and dying saurians all over the foyer.
  But they still kept coming, into that entrance and another on the far side
  of the room.


 J-R cleared a path toward the far entrance with the assault cannon
  as he hovered directly at them, deploying the wing chainsaw blades as he did
  so. A few of their number produced various spiky melee weapons and awaited
  the charge, while the rest kept firing. "Fuggit," J-R grunted, dropping his
  rec-rifle and drawing Da Holy Sibling-Sawblade from the leg compartment.


 Three cutting surfaces and five hundred kilos of powered armor
  crashed into whatever MENSAns survived the assault cannon barrage. With a
  flick of the hoverjet controls, the MADOX became a whirling machine of gory
  death, using both chainrippers and Da Sawblade to inflict grevious wounds.
  Many saurians died where they stood, felled as they tried to rush the
  battlesuit. One MENSAn managed to hit the back of the MADOX's head with his
  mace, only to have it bounce off the armor. Da Holy Sibling-Sawblade
  followed shortly thereafter, cleaving through its skull and showering the
  room with bits of brain and other crainial organs.


 A final burst from the assault cannon dropped the last of the
  charging MENSAns. "Hell of a waste of 'good' brainpower," J-R remarked as he
  replaced Da Sawblade in the leg compartment. Checking out the damage report,
  he saw that his armor shell was getting weak in a few places, but the
  remaining protection was sufficient to get him to a repair center.


 J-Rock experimentally keyed his radio. "Rockarolla to Liberator
  Ops, come in, over." The sounds of battle carried on like they hadn't heard
  him.  "Liberator Ops, this is Rockarolla, do you read me?" Still, the battle
  went on, its participants blithely unaware that the rescuer needed rescue.



To be continued in "Acts of Sacrifice"...