The morning dawned brightly, casting its long streams of yellow and black
across the ground and pink and blue across the sky. Warrant Officer
Marquardt rose from his bunk in the command tent groggily. He hated
mornings, always had. But war didn't keep hacker's hours, and the best
time to strike a legion of sponge minions is in the morning, when they are
most likely to be busy watching B'harnii and Fiends.

This was the day, Marquardt thought as he looked out across the scorched
terrain that has been the battlefield for most of the previous engagements
between MAUL and Rouge Squadron troops. The last day. Marquardt had no doubt
in his mind that it would end with MAUL winning; the sweeping victories of
the Mechanized Heavy Infantry over the RS troops was proof enough of that.

Marquardt's serenity of thought was interrupted by one of the enlisted men
barging into the tent. "What," said the Warrant Officer, sounding more than
slightly annoyed.

"Message from CinC Most Holy," the grunt sputtered, obviously intimidated,
more than likely wishing that he hadn't been the person picked to go in
there and give the news.

Outside the tent, the group of battle-hardened tank commanders and
helicopter pilots that made up MHI rose from their slumber in a relaxed,
almost lethargic manner. The serenity of the scene was broken by Marquardt's
voice suddenly bellowing out, "THOSE RAT BASTARDS!!"

Marquardt waved his arms frantically, screaming incoherently at the canvas
of the tent. "Why doesn't anyone ever TELL me about these things?!" he
screamed. "A War College plot to expose RS .. Next thing you're going to
tell me is that they planted that message on the CinC's phone to call me
..." He looked at the enlisted man coldly. The grunt just shrugged, not
knowing what the Warrant Officer was talking about. "Very well," sighed
Marquardt. "If that's all you have to say, then get out of my face."

Obliging Marquardt, the enlisted man slunk out of the tent. Marquardt sat on
his cot for a while, pondering this. Darn War College pencilnecks. "If I had
my way, they'd just stick to strategy!" he shouted at the air. The air had
no argument.

The Warrant Officer took a deep breath and rose from the cot, heading for
the door of the tent. I guess it's good that I found out right before the
battle, he thought, because now I'm good and mad.

The mobilization went smoothly. Tanks rumbled across the torn hills on their
way to the compound in a long line abreast, with helicopters thundering in
formation overhead. A pair of F15-E fighters screamed out from behind and
streaked toward the compound, followed by the rest of the wing. It wasn't a
stealthy approach, that was for sure. But Marquardt wasn't looking for a
surprise attack. He wanted it to be quick, decisive, and devastating for RS,
not surgical. He ordered the helicopters out in front of the tanks, having
them acting as spotters and also to clear a path.

Inside the RS compound, the atmosphere was calm. Every single sponge minion
sat, stupified, as the image of the purple puke bounced around on the
several big-screen televisions. Oohing and aahing as b'harnii made it all
better with a song and dance, they were just like little kids. Except most
of them were adults.

Suddenly, the idyllic nature of the compound was interrupted with the roar
of jets, the blaring of klaxons, and the explosion of bombs. The final
battle had begun.

All of the MAUL tanks fired at once, their shells pounding the outer wall of
the compound, a cloud of dust rising into the air. Confusion erupted, and
for a while there was no resistance. Maul forces rumbled through, cutting
through the passive-defense perimeter like it was made of butter.

Finally, the Rouge Squadron forces responded. Missiles screamed towards
their targets, tank shells impacted armor heavily. The MAUL forces held
their line.

As Marquardt watched the fray erupt from the command helicopter, he muttered
to himself, "Where did they get their tactics?!" He almost felt sorry for
Rouge Squadron, down there getting their butts handed to them. The answer
came to him almost as quick as he asked the question to himself; these were
their last forces available. It was a last-ditch effort.

Suddenly, a red-orange blaze lanced out from the ground, slicing the chopper
next to Marquardt's. The helicopter exploded in a brilliant, thunderous
explosion as its fuel ignited, and the command helicopter rocked from the
percussion. "What the hell was that?!" screamed the Warrant Officer.

>From the pilot's seat, Recruit LitBolt turned around. "It came from down
there," he said, pointing to a group of spongies who appeared to be
reloading a strange-looking rifle.

"Okay," muttered Marquardt. "It looks like they're reloading, but what the
.." he grabbed a pair of binoculars and looked. "Copper tops. They're
reloading that thing with copper tops." He threw the binoculars across the
cabin and climbed into the gunner's seat. "Recruit," he said, calling to
LitBolt, "Turn this thing. I want a clear shot at them."

Almost as soon as he had said that, the group had fired the gun again, its
red-orange streak missing the command chopper by only a couple of feet.
"That was close," breathed the recruit under his breath as he turned the
chopper.

Marquardt fired one HE round into the group. They didn't know what hit them.
He turned back up to the cockpit. "Give me the radio," he said.

"Attention all MAUL forces," he spoke into the mike, "this is Warrant
Officer Marquardt. Evidently, Rouge Squadron is down to the bottom of the
barrel here, and is taking stuff out of R&D .. we just lost a chopper from
what appeared to be a battery-operated laser gun. Anyway, just keep your eyes
open. Marq--"

"Sir, Look!" shouted the Recruit, interrupting.

Marquardt looked. First, a shock of cold, that "Oh, shit" feeling, then a
sense of irony flooded him. He laughed out loud. "What the heck," he said.
There, on the battlefield, ambling slowly towards the line of tanks, were
five 40-foot-tall mechanical monstrosities that looked remarkably like
AT-STs from Star Wars.

"Oh-/kay/ men," he said, stifling a laugh, as he returned to the mike. "It
looks like we have some people that think they're in a video game here. Aim
for the legs. Marquardt out."

Tank turrets turned, and shells flew, impacting the legs of the mecha. They
went down easily, falling to the ground with a heavy thud. As soon as that
happened, a group of spongies ran out of the front of the compound, waving a
huge white flag. Almost as quickly as it had begun, the battle was over.