Operation: Pacifica,  Guerrilla Tactics
by Fleet Commander Samhain, Doberman Empire


 The jungle ambush had been perfectly executed; the Lyran had
  distracted the 10th Company of the Chosen long enough for the forces to move
  into position for attack.  And now, the attack was upon them.


 "Chosen!  Defensive formation Omicron, dispersing to Omega on my
  order!" hollered Samhain loudly enough to be heard over the din of gunfire,
  both incoming and outgoing.  Following his orders, the 10th Company grouped
  together inwards, putting their backs towards the center of the circle.
  Those with the largest weapons gathered in the center, defended from ground
  attacks by their brethren.  In turn, the heavy firepower in the core sought
  to drive off the aerial assault.


 A Saethrian swooped in low, the lance in its claw seeking to impale
  one of the defenders while the tremendous, scorpion-like stinger on its tail
  searched for even the barest of grazing blows to deliver its deadly toxins.
  Before it could get close to the group, however, a round from an APATHY,
  glowing brightly as its magnesium casing burned away, smashed into the side
  of its head.  The superheated acid in the round sprayed unrecognizable
  nagenta goo backwards in a streaming fountain of death, sending the now
  uncontrolled body careening towards the ground with a *flump* where it
  landed in the brush.


 A B'habi-B'hopp Bot attempted to restrain the Chosen, tossing its
  BLANKEE towards their formation.  However, it was quickly intercepted and
  shredded by a counter-shot from a huge W-Cannon, causing it to fall
  harmlessly to the ground in small pieces.


 The front lines of Chosen sprayed the forest with their X-rifles
  and grenade launchers.  Flames and explosions flared and raced around them,
  causing confusion and death among the attacking smudges and spongies.  The
  former faded from existence without much notice, while the latter screamed
  in horror and agony as they realized their folly.


 Samhain, needing a clear shot and target for his weapon to be of
  maximum benefit, held his fire while the men around him cleared their paths
  of escape.  After what seemed like an eternity but was at most only a few
  seconds, the spongin and smudges were fleeing terror-stricken into the
  jungle.  Flames rose around them, the bright orange and black smoke
  contrasting sharply with the lush green vegetation around them.  "NOW!"
  yelled Samhain.


 At once, the outer circle of Chosen began to expand. Each of the
  Warriors ran in their own direction, scattering into the undergrowth. The
  movement was none too soon; a B'harni-Bot crashed into the combat area,
  knocking down a large tree as it did so.  Samhain raised the business end of
  the silver monstrosity towards the incoming bot.  "Eat this, ya B'harnian
  Bastich!"  he screamed as he pulled the trigger.  At once, the chambers spun
  rapidly, sparks leaping from each individual 20-mm bore as they passed the
  firing mechanism in turn.  Energized particles raced out towards the bot
  directly behind them, the laser range finder marking the exact point of
  targeting.  As bullets tore into the armor, the particle streams connected
  in exactly the same place.  The specially designed bullets were driven
  further inwards, vaporized, and then exploded with deadly force.  The fifth
  such shell reached the bot's reactor core, sending it into a terminal
  reaction.  The bot began to glow, radiating intense enough heat that the few
  remaining Saethrians fled the scene, their survival instincts carrying
  greater weight than the instructions they'd been given.


 Samhain, too, now ran for cover behind a fallen tree as the massive
  mauve monstrosity exploded with such force that it ripped apart the BJ bot
  directly behind it, sending shrapnel flying in all directions.  Samhain got
  behind the tree just in time--pieces of b'harniium buried themselves in the
  tree... all the way through it.  The tip of one hit his armor, chipping off
  a good sized chunk of it before coming to a stop.  "Mental note," Samhain
  muttered to himself, "do not fire this at close range or when in the
  open..." As he finished muttering to himself, the B'habii-B'hopp bot that
  had tossed its net earlier stepped forward and straddled him, obviously
  unaware of where he was.  "...or when given few alternatives..." he
  continued.


 Samhain pondered his position carefully.  "Lets see... I can fry
  the bot and myself along with it, or..." he paused, a grin spreading across
  his face.  "or, I can take advantage of the situation."  Samhain paused and
  shrugged the cannon off his shoulder, then slipped his hands into his
  Claws[tm].



...




 Murphey, once one of Samhain's regulars in the Empire, had proven
  himself numerous times.  He still served under Samhain, but now was among
  the elite--he was one of the Chosen.  He charged from the defensive circle
  [formation Omicron] past a field of searing flames, and into the dense
  jungle of Pacifica.  He glanced over his shoulder in time to see tongues of
  flame dancing around the end of Samhain's weapon, the bot glow brightly,
  then explode.  The last thing Murphey remembered was being knocked brutally
  to the ground by the shock wave.  He sat up, shook his head to clear it, and
  scooped up his APATHY once again.  It seemed intact.  Time to get to work--
  undoubtedly his fellow Chosen were already ahead of him in setting traps of
  all kinds.



...




 "Yahoo," thought Samhain as he started climbing up the back of the
  B'habii-Bot.  He dug his claws firmly into the armor on the bot's tail,
  working his way up to its back.  Without warning, the B'habii Bot let out
  its dreaded War Screech.  Samhain convulsed and the hair stood up on the
  back of his neck as he felt the bot vibrate with the screech, but
  fortunately didn't hear it.  "Well, at least the sound filter in my armor
  still works," he thought to himself as he started climbing the miniature
  cliff that was the bot's back.


...




 Murphey finished planting the fifth of his traps and looked up from
  where he stood, noticing that he could see the bot from this vantage point.
  "What the hell..." he wondered aloud, noticing a single figure working its
  way up its back.



...




 Samhain finally reached the top, sitting on the bot's shoulder.  He
  paused briefly, surveying the area and actually somewhat enjoying the view
  before getting back to work.  He scooted over closer to the head, where he
  ripped into one of the rocket launchers on its chin with his Claws[tm].
  Carefully, he ripped out the fire-control wires and hooked them directly to
  the missiles inside.  He then repeated the process on the other side.


 After finishing, he hopped down from the yellow bot.  He hit the
  ground with a *thwup-whoosh* as the energy from the 15 foot drop was easily
  absorbed by the hydraulics in the legs of his armor.  He scooped up his
  weapon again, and ran to the center of the battle area, now an obvious
  clearing after the munitions, explosions, and bots had ripped through it.
  "Hey!  NA-NA-NA-NA-NA-NA!  YOU CAN'T SHOOT ME!" he teased the pilot of the
  bot.

...




 Billy-Bob stood his bot near the edge of the battle area.  He
  couldn't see anyone to fight.  That was just poopy.  The meany jihaddi had
  even torn up his BLANKEE, the poops.  And to make matters worse, two of the
  other bots had already been blown up.  That was *REALLY* poopy, he thought.
  He scanned the area again, looking for someone to punish for breaking all of
  B'harni's super-dee-duper toys.  That was when he saw the dumb jihaddi
  standing directly in front of him.  "BET YOU CAN'T MISSILE ME!" taunted the
  jihaddi poop.  "hehehehe.  I bet I can, you jihaddi poop!" giggled the
  spongie as he pressed the fire button on his jaw missiles.



...




 Samhain stood and watched as the bot's head disappeared in a
  blossom of flame, then fell over sideways.  "Spongin is as Spongin does," he
  thought, then headed off to the rendezvous point they'd established earlier,
  being *very* careful of any traps in the area.



...


 Fifteen minutes after the sneak attack had begun, the 10th Company
  of the Chosen of Khorne gathered near the quicksand pits.  Minus two, that
  is.  Jaynie had been devoured by a Saethrian, but where was Thadeus?  Janice
  stepped forward and shook her head sadly.  "He took a piece of shrapnel in
  the head," she explained solemnly.


 Samhain nodded quietly, then explained what was to come.  "I'm
  afraid I must leave you all," he began.


 There were quiet gasps and the group started to dispute him, but he
  cut them off with a simple outstretched hand.  "I'm a Maenad.  You know
  that.  The Lyrans also know that, and it makes me extremely easy to track
  down.  That's what just happened, and that's not how this company is
  supposed to work, right?  We're supposed to be the ones who do the sneak
  attacks and dirty tricks."  As if to punctuate his words, there were a few
  explosions off in the direction of the earlier battlefield.  "I see you've
  been doing your jobs," he grinned.  There was some brief laughter, then he
  continued.  "You have to do your jobs now without me.  Clear the way into
  the tower.  You won't get everything or everyone, but you can make it a damn
  sight easier.  Understood?"


 The 10th Company stood silently, nodding their understanding.  They
  exchanged a brief farewell, and Samhain gave his armor and weapon to
  Murphey.  As it had turned out, the blast had ruined the armor's value and
  the mechanisms of the APATHY.  "It'll get dark before you get there,"
  explained Samhain tersely.  "You'll need these more than I will."




"Guerilla Tactics"
Copyright 1996
David R. Hibbs