Operation: Pacifica, Vulcanian by CyberPyro (cybrpyro@infinet.com) [Place: DE Naval Yards, Officers' Quarters] [Time: 9: 12am] Elektra glided to a silent halt in plain view of a massive loading operation in the DE Naval Yards. Her doors popped open as the loading foreman noticed her arrival. "I have to see how the loading is going," said Samhain. CP nodded and walked away without another word. He had things to attend to as well. A quick scan around the compound revealed J. FoxGlov, a bright yellow anthropomorphic fox, standing with one of the loading supervisors. The slump in his shoulders indicated he'd not slept much, if at all, since everyone had left TRES HQ. "Vulpine!" yelled CP as his long strides rapidly carried him towards his 2nd in Command. "Hi." J wrinkled his nose slightly at wave of smells that preceded CP. "Cigarette smoke. Sweat. Mixtures of different colognes. You smell wonderful." "The remnants of clubbing all night," replied CP, his tone indicating he had something to discuss. "Where'd the sucker bite come from?" J's ears perked slightly as CP pulled his jacket collar up to cover a purplish-red mark near his collar bone. "A friend." "Samha..." "No. I want all TRES personnel assembled at 1000 hours in Conference Room G." "You didn't answer..." "You have 46 minutes left to get everyone together. I'm off to attend to other matters," replied CP as he turned on his heel and strode off towards the Senior Officer's Guest Quarters. "Humpf. I'll just see you later, then." J wandered off, the merest trace of a grin on his face. He muttered, chuckling to himself as he ran a mental checklist of where every TRES officer was located in the DE complex. ... The soldiers guarding the VIP corridor snapped to attention as a blue jean, leather and chain-clad man crisply returned their salute and breezed past them. The clomp of combat boots against the carpeted floor receded and ended abruptly as a door clicked closed. Exactly thirty minutes later the same door clicked shut and long strides brought the man quickly back past the guards again. Recognizing the uniform of TRES' Grand Admiral, they made a conscious effort to make their salute a tad crisper than before. "Amazing the difference a uniform and some bars makes." CP looked at them for a brief moment from the exit, noticing the soldiers begin to get uncomfortable, and departed without another word. ... [place: Conference Room G] [time: 0959 hours] Dozens of men and women sat around the large conference table, chatting idly among themselves and waiting for the briefing to begin. Silence fell as the Grand Admiral walked into the room and sat at the head of the table. "Good morning, everyone," smiled CP as he did a mental head count. The Vulpine in his usual fluster after being rushed, Yearnshaw in his typical slack state, an annoyed J-Rock after finding out he was included in the Operation, DarkSide, Geier, everyone except.. "Admiral Korth," greeted CP as he tried to slip into the meeting unobserved, "Nice you see you're keeping up your reputation for punctuality." A slight chuckle rippled through the officers as they caught the edge of CP's sarcasm. "As always..." replied a slightly blushed Korth as he found a seat. "Now, on with the meeting... Mr. Felton! Mr. Geier! Front and center!" The two Jihaddi rose from their seats and walked to the front of the conference room until each stood at either side of the Grand Admiral. "Commander Felton, for your exceptional work in Zeta Squad and imaging intelligence work on our enemy, you are hereby promoted to Captain Felton with full rank and privileges. Ensign Geier, you've shown yourself to be an outstanding officer in the Corps. Admiral Piper as has commented several times on your capabilities, and you are to be rewarded for it: You are promoted to Lieutenant with all effects due your rank. Congratulations gentlemen!" Each officer received the insignia of their new rank, bowed slightly, and took their seats. "Now on to other business," began the Grand Admiral as he leaned slightly forward in his chair. ... [time: 1100 hours] The TRES Officers stood in unison and filed out of the briefing room. J. FoxGlov and CP remained behind with Korth, J-Rock, and Yearnshaw to discuss the high-level, Uber-important aspects of the mission. "Now, for the game network," asked J-Rock. "We should be able to take enough hardware to run... Oh, I'd say, at least a 200 person Quake v. 1.09J (J for Jihaddi improved version) DeathMatch," replied CP, the default care-taker of the command staff's computing needs. "Warcraft 2 lessons will, as always, be available for both the brave and foolish." Yearnshaw's tiny smirk was the only thing that betrayed his excitement in an otherwise cynical exterior. "We've still the standard set, right?" asked Korth. "Yep: all the Dooms, Descents, Mortal Kombats, and assorted Good Games[tm] worth playing," replied J. FoxGlov. "Lunch time." CP stood and headed for the door, a clear sign the meeting was over. He pulled his purple Grimace Card from his breast pocket and padded off towards the base's McDonald's. ... [time: 1454 hours] CP at the top of the top of the DTT _Iowa_'s gantry and watched the last-minute sailors come running aboard to report for duty. He found it somewhat amusing in an idle sort of way. "Well, I'll be damned," rumbled a deep baritone. "Yes?" asked CP. He turned and looked at Warrior Hyperion Perazim in his duty uniform 20 feet or so down the deck. The two smiled: it was going to be an entertaining trip. "Want to spar for awhile?" queried Perazim as he fingered the hilt of his Jihaddium Warrior's sword. "Once we're out of the San Francisco Bay. I'll always love this city and want to be to say goodbye to properly." "Fair enough." ... [time: 1644 hours] "Farewell." CP tossed his farewell Jolt empty overboard as the glimmering white mecca of San Francisco began to blur with the horizon. The fleet kept a tight formation as it steamed away from the continent. "En Garde!" yelled Perazim as he lunged at CP with his sword drawn. The pyrokinetic side-stepped, placed the flat of his hand between Perazim's shoulder blades, and shoved hard enough to make the Warrior stumble forward for a few steps. Perazim managed to bring his sword up just to time to block a two-handed swipe from CP's Claymore. ... "Sir!" yelled the XO on the bridge as he pointed out the window, "Our two guests are fighting in and around the deck guns!" Captain 'Bazooka Bill' Williams left his command chair to look at the combat. He watched for a moment, determined it was vigorous sparring, and sighed: something had told him having CP and a Perazim on the same ship would be a trying experience. "I've half a mind to fire the guns while they're out there," grumbled the Captain. "Leave 'em to the sparrin' unless they cause serious trouble." It was going to be a long trip. The sun burned brightly on the starboard side of the Doberman Fleet as it headed southwest towards Pacifca. Somewhere, the TRES Corps computers buzzed to life as the first of many, many DeathMatches started. The DE Fleet was underway and the mysteries of Pacifica awaited them. - CP Copyright, Pyrokinetic Productions, Inc. (1996)