Operation: Phoenix, The Battle for the TRES HQ, Pt 1 by CyberPyro, cybrpyro@iac.net The Andromeda accelerated to mach 9 as it flew less than 1,000 feet above the surface of the Atlantic Ocean, its shields surrounding the fighter in a bright yellow bubble as they absorbed atmospheric friction. Inside the cockpit, a storm of activity swirled around the pilot. ... "This is unwise," cautioned Andromeda. "Can you give me any more speed before we hit land?" I asked. "At this speed, that's exactly what we'll do: crash into the earth." "Yes or no?" I was pushed back in my seat again as the Andromeda moved up another notch or two on the mach scale. "Talk request from Commander Kylun Lionheart, CO of TRES Corps HQ queued." chimed Andromeda in his even, baritone voice. "Well, give it to me," I ordered. The screen on my left flickered and Kylun's face appeared. "Greetings, Commodore Marburger," said Kylun as per official protocol. "Greetings, Commander Lionheart. Have the scouting parties returned from Denver yet?" "Negative." "Damn. Hold on while I try something," I said, keying in the control sequences to take a couple of TRES Corps satellites out of their usual orbits. High above the Earth, thrusters flares on 4 distinct satellites as they changed course. "We have ... 3 ... no, 4 of our satellites changing to an unauthorized course!" repeated Kylun after a startled HQ comm tech blurted his findings. "That would be my doing it, everything's fine. Now let's see what we can see," I said, fiddling with the controls of all the satellites. Kylun continued to brief me of the HQ's status while I took several snap shots of the Denver area. I grunted in dissatisfaction as the first set of scans came into view. "Commodore?" queried Kylun. "Tell me exactly how many troops, including trainees and cadets, we have at the TRES HQ." "The roster indicates 8,000 regular troops and 2,000 cadets." "Damn," I swore as the scans were auto-forwarded to TRES HQ. "You're not going to like what you see at all." "What the hell is that purple blob on the map?!" "It's one of the Hell Wyrm's sponge clouds hovering over Denver. Chances are the city has completely spongified. I want everyone down to the janitors armed with XRifles and in BattleArmor; we're in for a lot of company." "Yes sir," said Kylun as he issued orders to the command staff in the HQ's Ellipsoid. My central monitors and right screens all beeped in chorus, announcing the next set of scans. "Ugh!" I said as my jaw dropped open. "CP?" "Set the HQ on red alert status, now! Send a priority one emergency request to all TRES personnel: 'Attack imminent from overwhelming X'hirjq forces. Any and all troops are to divert immediately to Colorado, USA for the defense of our HQ.'" I ordered, setting the most recent satellite pictures to 'CLASSIFIED' and sending to TRES Corps officers only. "This is not good," said Kylun, visibly shaken at the scans on his screen. The flashing red of the HQ klaxons shone brightly on his face, indicating he'd whitened a little. "Five talk requests queued," informed Andromeda. "Back in a minute, Commander," I said, closing the channel. "Andro, give me the highest priority request." "Captain Bloodaxe of the G.L. Pride," answered Andromeda, opening the talk session. We skipped the pleasantries and discussed business immediately. "What do you have to defend the TRES HQ with?" I asked. "We have 35,000 TRES Marines standing at the ready, along with 500 fighters, sir. We will be heading to the orbital battle with the X'hirjq fleet in less than an hour." "Excellent, off-load all your troops and fighters in the HQ before you join the defensive action against the X'hirjq fleet." "Sir, but I ..." started Bloodaxe. "You have your orders, Captain. Marburger out." I said, cutting off the debate. "Admiral J-Rock, commander of Kappa Squad," chimed Andromeda. "Greeting, Admiral," I said. "Same to you, Commodore," said J-Rock. "I'm heading to the HQ now with everything we can spare from the Atlanta battlefield." "Excellent, look forward to seeing you," I finished, sending out text responses to the other three talk requests. The channel bleeped closed as I started an emergency request to the Doberman Empire. Though we were staggering under the assault of the X'hirjq and had lost Samhain as our leader, and our new Fleet Commander Inagei was MIA in the Atlanta battlefield, my confidence in the Empire's resiliency remained unshaken. "Talk request from Lieutenant Mordrid, Zeta Squad queued." "Answer it ... 'lo Mordrid," I said. "'lo .. I'm bringing 500 fighters with me, as well as, 50 of my newest artillery pieces." said Mordrid. "Excellent. Out." ... The Andromeda came out of its last turn from the underground launch path into the hangar beneath the TRES HQ. Kylun stood with several other marines in BattleArmor beside a gigantic wooden crate stamped all over with W.E.D.J.E.E.'s logo. "Command of the HQ is hereby transferred to you, Commodore," said Kylun as he handed me a crowbar. "Accepted," I said, the crate creaking and popping as the crowbar worked its seams open. A quick tug later and the crate cracked open, revealing W.E.D.J.E.E.'s latest BattleArmor suit: The Wrath of Arioch, Owsenite2 build. "We received affirmative responses to your emergency request to the Doberman Empire from Troopers Aphrodite, Charcharadon, and Osirus," said Kylun. "They'll be bringing as many troops as possible, but they unsure of numbers so far." "Good. I ... what the schneck?!" I said as every JihadLinker[tm] in the hangar went berserk. One by one, every JihadLinker[tm] assumed a constant screaming noise, announcing a flood of new mail, until its owner shut it off. "What the hell is happening?!?!" demanded one of the marines. "This is bad.." said another. "The entire Jihad is being mailbombed!" exclaimed Kylun. "Yep, and JihadNet isn't doing well, either," I said, checking network status: 96% load and increasing. My mail prompt informed me: New messages: 7672 Composition: From: MailBomber@X'hirjq.fleet.mil -- 7670 From: Praetor@JihadNet.mil -- 1 From: Owsen@JihadNet.mil "Sir!," boomed the voice of the head comm officer in the Ellipsoid over the hangar speakers, "We've lost all contact with JihadNet!" "Lieutenant," I said, "I'm not surprised in the least. JihadNet has crashed and burned, hard. The Jihad's without network communications now." To Be Continued in "Battle for the TRES HQ, Pt 2"! CyberPyro Copyright, Pyrokinetic Productions, Inc. (1996)