Operation Pacifica: The Long Night by Admiral J-Rock, TRES Corps "Wild animals never kill for sport. Man is the only one to whom the torture and death of his fellow-creatures is amusing in itself." - James Anthony Froude, _Oceana_ CHARN'EL'S TOWER, LYRAN CITADEL 1807 HOURS ISLAND TIME DAY TWELVE OF OPERATION PACIFICA # "Rock House Jail" _"The Rock" soundtrack_ J-Rock waited until it was almost dusk before he made his approach to the Lyran citadel. However, even waiting had its own risks, as a Spongin patrol happened upon the rock outcropping that J-R was waiting out the afternoon in. After a brief but interesting struggle, he was left with a number of shredded Sponges and one scared-out-of-his-mind Spongie, whose uniform J-R was wearing now. The frightened Spongie -- minus his head -- was tied to the front of the Badlander like a deer carcass from a successful hunt, clad in J-Rock's BDUs (which had already been stripped of rank insignia). To further accentuate the disguise, he had already let some of his fae seeming bleed into his normal one. Specifically, he had changed his hair to a blood red, and was using the Spongie's soft cover to conceal some of the added length. Also, J-Rock had radioed ahead of time that he was the sole survivor of a patrol that had happened upon a Jihaddi in the wastelands, and he was returning to base with the Jihaddi vehicle. The Badlander pulled up to the front gate of the tower as a Wyrm- Minion motioned for it to stop. After J-R stopped the Hummer, the Minion walked up to the window and asked to see some ID. J-Rock flashed the pass he had taken from his POW, which was nothing more than a swatch of nagenta construction paper with the word "PASS" crudely written in lime-green crayon. "Go on ahead," the Wyrm-Minion said. "There's a Jihaddi Torture detail forming soon, and you wouldn't want to miss that, would you?" "Of course not," J-Rock replied, smiling an evil smile as he drove away. 'If anything, that should lead me to where our people are.' After pulling into a parking place somewhere in the basement of the tower, J-R pushed a silent alarm switch under the dashboard before slinging his duffel over his shoulder and getting out. "Where'd you say the detail was forming again?" he asked a guard. "Level 4," the guard replied. "Thanks!" And with that, J-R walked out of the motor pool and headed upstairs. 'Just a little while longer, Owsen,' he thought. 'Then we're gonna make them pay!' ... FIFTEEN MINUTES LATER... "And who might you be?" a Wyrm-Minion asked as J-Rock approached. "I haven't seen you around here before." "We must not have seen each other," J-R replied. "Gosh, this a big place..." "I don't know," the Minion responded. "There's something about you..." His protests faded away as J-R hummed the Hell Wyrm War Chant in the most treacly tones he could muster, which confused the Minion for a bit. At length, he said, "You'll do. Come on, one of Barney's special friends is waiting for us." The Minion led the gaggle of Sponges and Sponge impersonator to a massive cell block, streching for at least a thousand yards further ahead. "Abtr'El wants these two today," another Wyrm-Minion said as he opened a cell door. J-Rock took one look inside the door, and clenched his hands into fists to avoid whispering "F***************kkkkk meeeee..." # Pink Floyd "Welcome to the Machine" _Wish You Were Here_ The two sorry sights chained up in the cell he could recognize anywhere, even with the numerous ritual scars carved into them and gauntness from lack of food. They were a man and a woman, dressed in tattered rags that J-R suspected were once jumpsuits. The man was missing his glasses, but it hardly made any difference in identification. 'My God!' J-R thought. 'They have Ed and Siona!' Mother Siona of the Grand Inquisition fought with distinction in the Battle for Atlanta. The last J-Rock saw of her, she was going to link up with Most Holy in Chicago. But with the main invasion, he'd lost contact with her. As for Ed Murphy, J-Rock knew him from the earliest days of the Jihad and the TAMUBGD. He kept the FAQ for the newsgroup when NetDoc left, and even went out on Terminator missions with J-R. Upon graduation, he retired to New Orleans, and J-R never saw him in person again until now. And now here they were, prisoners of the Lyrans. J-Rock silently vowed that he would deliver them from this island torture chamber. No matter what. As the Sponges began to unhook the chains from the wall, J-R noticed the glassy-eyed manner in which the two Jihaddi sat. It was not the look found on the faces of their Spongin captors; no, this was more like the look of someone who has been broken. 'What have they done to you?' he wondered. J-R decided to send a message the only way he could: by putting his thumbs in his ears and wiggling his fingers until someone noticed him. When that happened, he sent a picture to Ed of himself in his normal seeming, overlaying that on himself in Ed's vision. He then gave him a wink and a conspiriatoral "shhh" before breaking off contact. "...oh no, no, no, not the fake J-Rock again..." Ed started murmuring. 'Oh, sneckin' HELL,' J-Rock thought. 'Don't give me away here!' "For Barney's sake, boy," a Wyrm-Minion said mockingly as he kicked him. "We ain't started anything yet." This had gone on long enough. "And yer not gonna, either!" Slider retorted, slamming the cell door as his fae seeming manifested in a Jacob's ladder of electricity crawling over his body. # Sick Of It All "Consume" _Scratch The Surface_ Two arms wrapped themselves around Slider's shoulders as Wyrm- Minions attempted to subdue him. However, the operative word in this case was "attempted." Slider brought his left elbow back into a Minion's head, causing the arm on his left shoulder to spasm as the elbow spine penetrated the optic nerve through an eye. He tore his arm from his now-dead captor's slackening grip and grabbed the other Wyrm-Minion by the wrist. "I _KNEW_ something was fishy about you--AAAAAAAIIIIGGGGGHHH!!!!!" the Wyrm-Minion shouted as Slider bit right through the unfortunate's elbow. Slider added insult to dismemberment by kicking the Minion's knee, sending him to the ground in a heap. Spitting the remnants of the Minion's elbow back in his face, Slider growled, "Just 'ow fishee ya unnerestimated big-time!" The Wyrm-Minion could only writhe in exquisite agony as Slider wielded his severed arm like a club, saying "Now 'oo else wants sum?" A Spongin was thrust forward by his fellows, only to get punched in the stomach and smacked upside the head with the dismembered arm. "Surely ya kin do better'n dat," Slider noted as he strode forward and stepped on the Sponge's neck before stabbing Claws (tm) through the eyes, rending the face. He knew he was hardly being fair to the little gits. He had hardly used his Big Ass Claws (tm) in the battle. Even now, they had rezzed into being on his hands, pleading to unleash righteous anger in savage, slashing release. Within three minutes, the redcap could be the only one standing in this room if he wanted to. And the Spongins knew it. That was obvious from the waves of fear emenating from them. Which made the smegging dungheap of a situation that awaited when he got out much more tolerable. Faerie magic operates from strong emotions. Particularly strong emotions are possessed of a mystical quality known as Glamour, which is the fuel that all workings of the fae need to function. And Glamour was already present in the fear of these Spongies. There are many ways to harvest Glamour, most of which involve creating in some fashion. However, there is a less refined, more expedient method known as Ravaging. It is roughly analogous to a vampire draining blood, except it deals in Glamour. Slider reached out with his mind and took the Glamour into him, topping off his reserves and watching the Spounges' eyes become just as glassy as those of Ed and Siona. Normally, Ravaging was something Slider wouldn't do, as B'Harne did something like that to the Sponges all the time. But the travails of crossing Pacifica Island had depleted his Glamour reserves. Best to go with expediency in this case. He tossed the arm into the hands of a Spongin, saying "'Ol' dis" as he thrust out toward her midsection with a Claw'd hand. Against Spongies, the battle had ended before it had even begun. Slider stood alone in the cell that had become an abattoir in short order and voiced the Maenad war cry at the top of his lungs: "NNNYYYYAAAARRRRR!!!" Both POW Jihaddi in the room shook their heads slowly, as if awaking from a nightmare. The loud noise had jolted them from their lethargy. "J-Rock?" Siona asked. "Is that really you?" "Inna manna uv speakin'," Slider replied. Ed blinked really hard for a few seconds, willing his nearly- useless eyes to function. At length, he stammered, "Y-Y-You've.. changed." "Gettin' killed does dat to ya," Slider noted as he pulled out a piece of sidewalk chalk and drew a circle around Ed. "Oh, thank God!" the Siona exclaimed, moving as close to Slider as her chains would allow. "They did some horrible things... pumped us full of this purple stuff that was turning us into monsters..." "Dey ain't gonna do it no more," Slider said as he finished up the circle. "I intend to find dat Abtr'El git and rip out 'is lungs fer doin' dis ta yer." Almost immediately after the circle was completed, the ritual scars on Ed's body began to fade, and his skin began to get some color back. "Dere ya go, yer as patched up as I kin get ya." Ed looked confused for a few moments and then shrugged as he tried to get up. He'd figure Slider's remarks out later. "Take a number and wait your turn in line," Siona intoned as Slider pulled a paper sack out of his duffel. "I want first crack at him." Calmly walking back toward Siona, Slider opened the bag, and lightly sprinkled the contents onto her body. About twenty four-leaf clovers fell over her, spreading warmth and healing where they landed, removing the scars and poison and mental anguish. "Can't let ya do dat, Si," Slider replied. "For starterz, 'e's a 'igh-level Lyran mage. Even wit' da 'ealin' I just did, ya'd 'ardly stand a chance, see. I'm rested, I'm a Maenad, and I'm pissed orf at 'im for doin' wot he did to two of my friends." And then his voice took on a different tone, as if someone else was prompting him to say the following: "Lay down yer burden, dat I might take it up. Da road is long, but I swear I shall bear it fer yer, until all roads end. I shall slay dat Lyran git Abtr'El, else may da road cease to lie beneef my feet." [1] Siona considered the options for a while and nodded slightly. "But I'll be wanting his cojones, don't forget." Suddenly, Slider felt really good about this whole thing, almost like he was walking on cloud nine. Hardly a mood worthy of one who is about to go kill someone, but that failed to dampen his spirits. Kinda like the heroes of "Big Trouble in Little China" after drinking the potion. Slider smiled and said, "Ya gottit." Ed ahem'd and asked, "Uh, the chains, if you please?" "Oops. Forgot 'bout dat," Slider said as he fished the keys off of a Wyrm-Minion's corpse and unlocked both sets on Ed and Siona. "Now dat we've seen to da 'urtypartz as much as I can, let'z get ya somewot dressed. God knows dis iz da last place ya wanna be seen 'arf-nekkid." The redcap took off the uniform shirt he was wearing, revealing a black T-shirt with a hooded skull on it, superimposed over a pair of crossed torches, which were in turn superimposed over a round shield. He tossed the shirt to Siona and rummaged through the duffel for a pair of olive BDU pants, which he tossed to Ed. "Put dose on," Slider said. The two did not need any further encouragement, although Ed did ask what Slider was doing with the flat black box he pulled out of the duffel. "Just tellin' some friends whereta find dis place," he replied. He pulled his weapons out of the duffel, stuffing his Handheld ER PPC into the waistband of his pants and slinging Da Holy Sibling-Sawblade on his back. As he pulled out the Wildmon Plasma Shotgun, Siona noticed the 'REVELATIONS XIX:I' inscription and said, "You just had to inscribe your weapon with _that_ verse, didn't you?" [2] "It woz dat or Galatians 6:7," Slider replied. "Anywayz, I'm not gonner use it." "That's a relief," Siona said. "You are," Slider noted, handing her the weapon. "It's dead shooty in close, tho, an' dat's wot we're gonner need to get to my ride an' you to safetee." Siona's face fell, but she hefted the Wildmon and checked the corridor for any wandering guards. "The coast's clear, guys," she whispered. Slider picked up the duffel and left the tracer in the cell as his friends walked out. 'I've done my job here, Geier,' he thought. 'Now it's up to you.' # Filter "Jurassitol" _"The Crow: City of Angels" soundtrack_ ... THE OBSCURE [1] A changeling's word is literally his bond. Slider has just sworn what is known as the Oath of the Accepted Burden, which explains what happens next. See the Changeling: The Dreaming rulebook for details. [2] At the wedding of Hanse Davion and Melissa Steiner, the couple opted not to stick with tradition and have the Scripture reading from Chapter 13 of First Corinthians. Instead, they had it from Chapter 19 of Revelations. Later at the reception, Hanse offered his bride the Capellan Confederation for a wedding gift, touching off the Fourth Succession War, which House Liao is still recovering from to this day. Guess which Successor House Siona backs? ;)= To be continued in "Hunter, Prey"...