"Northern Vendetta"
                     copyright 2007 by Dave Van Domelen

[December 24, 1997 - Canada]

     Somewhere in the frozen north of Nunavut, Doc Droid sat in the warmth of
one of his many hidden bases.  But while others might have been focused on
holiday cheer, he had many rivals simply waiting for him to drop his guard.
     "DomIn-S," he called out to one of the many Domestic Intelligences that
maintained the base.  S controlled sensors, Q was quartermaster/supplies, P
was power systems, and so forth.  Droid brains installed in a building
instead of in an autonomous body.  "Bring sensors up to maximum power, active
sweeps."
     "This will increase the chances of location compromise to fifteen
percent," the DomIn warned.
     "I think this base has already been compromised by that Maltese bastard
Venetti.  The rumor around Haven has been that he's gunning for me, him and
his perverse cyborg beasts."  It was hard to keep rumors from Doc Droid,
given how many of Haven's systems were maintained by his DomIns and the
droids they coordinated.  Many thought they could gain significant power by
displacing Doc Droid and taking over his network, but the only reason the
network continued to function was that the smart players knew Doc Droid
wouldn't use it to make power plays.  That didn't stop the foolish players,
like Benito Venetti.
     "Affirmative.  Do you desire any particular search parameters?" DomIn-S
asked.  
     Doc Droid pondered this for a moment.  "Yes.  He's going to be going for
broke, which means larger beasts to carry the maximum weapons load.  Don't
ignore small targets, mind you, he likes to use moles as sappers.  But look
for large quadrupeds off their normal migratory paths...elks, moose, caribou,
that sort of thing."
     "Affirmative."
     "Oh, and keep an eye out for sleighs.  Venetti's sick enough he might
decide to dress up as Santa Claus for an attack tonight, DomIn-P.  M, I need
you to work up deployment routines for the perimeter DefUns," the Defense
Units that didn't really count as "intelligences" and were largely extensions
of the Military Domestic Intelligence Doc Droid had shifted his attention to.
"Assume the cyborgs will be mounting automated weaponry, that's Venetti's
style.  Likely directed energy of some sort."
     "Affirmative.  So, we are most likely to face...?"
     "Venetti Auto-Ray Moose, DomIn-M."

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     This has been a Truly Horrid Holiday Vignette courtesy of Coherent
Comics UnIncorporated.

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Author's Notes:

     "O Come All Ye Faithful" was playing on a store's muzak 
(http://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/ildivo/adestefidelesocomeallyefaithful.html)
and got stuck in my head, so I decided to turn my pain into yours.  Nyah.

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