Operation Pacifica: Hunter, Prey
by Admiral J-Rock, TRES Corps


"Let's toast the hero with blood in his eyes. The scars on his mind
  took so many lives. Die hard the hunter"  -- Def Leppard, "Die Hard The
  Hunter"


CHARN'EL'S TOWER, PACIFICA ISLAND
TIME UNKNOWN
DAY TWELVE OF OPERATION PACIFICA


# Clutch "Escape From The Prison Planet" _Clutch_


 "Where did you say we were again?" Ed asked as Slider led him and
  Siona out of the cell block that they were being kept in.


 "Sublevel 4, Charn'El's tower," the redcap Maenad replied.


 "Who's this Charn'El git?"


 "Siona, remember 'oo cacked Sheridan back in Operation Phoenix?"
  She nodded. "Dere ya go," Slider noted dryly. "Powerful sorcarah, can't be
  killed, real pain in da arse," he continued, trying to remember everything
  Windigo had told him about the High Mage of Lyra.


 "Riiight," Ed replied, wanting to save his breath for the long
  march out of the tower. Slider's cantrips [1] had healed the two enough to
  walk, but anything requiring endurance was a tricky proposition, as months
  of torture, medical experiments that would make Fabius Bile [2] take notice,
  and starvation had systematically destroyed most of their stamina.


...


MEDICAL LEVELS, CHARN'EL'S TOWER


 "Where are those Sponges?" Abtr'El, second in command of the
  Citadel and Pacifica Island, hissed as he brooded in his laboratory. The
  prisoners were late in arriving, and his patience was wearing thin. "If they
  do not show up within the next five minutes, the Saethrians will be eating
  well tonight!"


 "I suggest you seek out Slider the Feral," Charn'El's voice echoed
  inside his exec's head. "He has your... specimens and is trying to abscond
  with them."


 "We planned for Deadlock and Blackblood," Abtr'El said aloud. "How
  could more Maenads have penetrated the citadel?"


 "Slider is still learning how to use his powers. He should be no
  match for you. Believe me, I have left nothing to chance."


 "Yes, a good hunt should do the trick!" Abtr'El said, already
  warming to the idea.


 "I advise you to take the slugthrower," Charn'El noted.


 "Understood, Master. Thank you."


 As Charn'El broke off contact, Abtr'El picked up a fleshy-looking
  tube about two feet long and some iron rods. "Slider shall make for
  excellent sport," he intoned coldly.


...


 After about five minutes of skulking the hallways, trying to stay
  out of sight of the guards, Ed and Siona had to take a breather. Slider
  stopped inside a circular room to let his friends rest. As they leaned up
  against a wall, Siona said, "Thanks for getting me outta that cell. I'm not
  sure how much more I could take of Lyran hospitality."


 "'Ey, don't be gettin' all mooshy on me," Slider said. "Wait'll I
  getya outta 'ere before ya start thankin' me. We're still in Lyran
  territory, see. Dey'll find us if we don't get goin' again."


 Suddenly, the wall behind Ed and Siona seemed to come alive as
  hundreds of fleshy tendrils wrapped themselves around the two and pulled
  them into the wall!


 About the same time, what appeared to be a metal rod embedded
  itself in Silder's thigh, drawing blood and sending him to the floor. A
  burning sensation echoed throughout the leg, followed by a dull ache, almost
  as if his senses were deadening. "Pleasant, yes?" asked a sibilant, mocking
  voice as its indigo-clad owner stepped into view.


 Changelings cannot abide the touch of cold iron. It is their only
  weakness, but it is a great weakness indeed. Weapons made of cold iron not
  only damage the person, but the fae spirit within, sapping its Glamour. And
  Slider now had a foot-long cold iron rod sticking out of his leg.


 "Be thankful I like to toy with my prey, Feral," Abtr'El teased.
  "You could have been dead and undone much sooner."


 "Aw sneck, anuvver Lyran," Slider retorted. "I should get frekwent
  flyer milez fer killin' each uv yer."


 "Since you came all this way to steal my specimens," the mage
  replied as he loaded another rod into the fleshy tube he carried, "at least
  let me entertain you!" He raised the tube and stroked a colored spot, which
  triggered the gag reflex of the creature, and the rod flew toward Slider's
  shoulder.


 To his credit, Slider drew his handheld ER PPC at the same time as
  Abtr'El raised his creature and returned fire, sending a thunderbolt toward
  the Lyran. It impaled the creature through its mouth for a split-second,
  letting the creature spasm and die as the cerulean beam passed through. A
  half-second later, the iron rod glanced off the pistol to embed itself in
  the wall a scant inch from Siona's head, but not before wrenching the weapon
  from Slider's grasp. The pistol dropped to the floor as Abtr'El dropped the
  now-lifeless slug-throwing creature.


 The mage pulled on a black glove and made little jabs as if he was
  shadowboxing. With each jab, telekinetic force slammed into Slider,
  staggering him before an uppercut knocked him to the floor.


 "Come now, childling," Abtr'El mocked, "even your vampiress friend
  had more fight than you."


 "Wot would ya know 'bout 'er?" Slider asked, his voice taking on
  more of an edge.


 "What do I know about her?" the Lyran asked, his voice losing none
  of its sarcasm. "I do know she was a thaumaturgist of some talent. However,
  she was nothing against a true adept. Would you like to see her?" A second
  later, a heap of ashes fell from the sky onto Slider's head, coating him in
  a fine layer.


 Turning his perceptions to the fae realm, he saw what he was
  dreading: the ashes were once Sabine. "No....." Slider groaned weakly.


# Pantera "Cemetery Gates" _Cowboys From Hell_


 Time slowed to a crawl as J-Rock remembered another place, during a
  happier time. In the weeks following the Turning Point Battle of Operation
  Phoenix, he and Sabine had become close friends as he personally took a hand
  in her training. Even then, he felt like he was falling for her. 'No,' he
  corrected himself. 'I _had_ fallen for her, I just didn't know it then.'
  Then along came the TDY with the Blood Jihad Space Force, and Matt Korth
  took over Kappa Squad in the interim.


 When he came back, Sabine had already fallen in love with jry, and
  J-R was not one to begrudge a friend his or her happiness. And so it stayed,
  on the long trip to Pacifica Island.


 J-R's love for her was not one-sided. There were times that she
  told him that things could have been much different than the status quo. But
  as it stood, she and Yearnshaw were together, and her love for J-R was
  merely that which was felt for a very good friend. J-Rock still carried a
  torch for Sabine, however.


 And now, all of that was blown away like so much dust in the
  wind...


 "Her screams were exquisite as she greeted the sunrise," Abtr'El
  said with more than a trace of smugness. "And as for her paramour, he was
  some trouble... for the better part of 0.86 seconds. Best dispersal pattern
  for an exploding skeleton I ever saw! But rest assured that their deaths,
  and yours, are just the beginning of our revenge. Soon the Jihad will
  crumble, and it will be just a matter of sweeping up the scattered remains!"
  His voice rose to mocking laughter at this remark.


 'I cannot believe your nerve, Abtr'El,' Slider thought. 'You have
  destroyed almost everyone I care about in the Jihad outside of the TAMUBGD
  and Kappa Squad, and seem hell-bent on destroying _those_ for an encore.
  These are my friends, and you leave them burned, broken, and touched by
  evil!  Or you slaughter them like cattle! And when you look upon your work,
  you laugh! YOU LAUGH!'


 Slider took that one emotion, held it in his heart, and let it
  burn.  All the warnings Windigo, Deadlock, and the rest told him about how
  Lyrans can twist one's emotions against him went unheeded. He just did not
  care. He wanted to revenge himself on the... thing that did this to his
  friends, and if that led to his death, so be it. Plucking the cold iron rod
  from his leg, he licked the blood off of it and cast it to the floor.



# Gravity Kills "Blame (L.A. Remix)" _"Escape From L.A." soundtrack_


 Slider leapt for the mage, who cackled as he vanished into thin
  air, leaving the redcap to land in a heap on the ground. Abtr'El
  materialized a few yards away from him, a crackling ball of lightning
  forming in his hands. The Lyran tut-tut'ed and mocked, "Only in the end, do
  you see that your anger is your undoing."


 Abtr'El thrust his hands forward and sent the ball lightning at
  Slider, who rolled away from the brunt of the blast. Some sparks at the
  periphery of the blast caught him, sending jolts through his body as he
  struggled to get up. As Slider got on all fours, the floor began to assume
  the properties of lumpy oatmeal, sucking the redcap's hands and lower legs
  into it before it hardened again, trapping him. "Zoggin' 'eck!" he cried.


 "You shall pay dearly for opposing us," Abtr'El intoned with mock
  solemnity as lightning surged from his fingertips and played along Slider's
  body. After what seemed like weeks, the flow of electricity stopped, leaving
  Slider panting. "Dat was too close," he whispered. He realized he needed to
  do something now or die horribly... again.


 He couldn't wiggle his Claws (tm) to cut himself free from the
  floor, which was the first thing he needed to do. Obviously, he couldn't
  even grab Da Sawblade, let alone use it. And then he remembered what
  Blackblood told him about redcaps: they can eat _anything_.


 Meanwhile, Abtr'El had conjured two ritual daggers, one in each
  hand, both made of cold iron. He walked toward the immobilized redcap as he
  yelled "And so it ends!"


 Slider bent down near where he imagined his left hand to be and
  took a bite out of the floor, freeing his hand for use in cutting himself
  free.  Oddly enough, the floor _tasted_ like lumpy oatmeal. The Lyran broke
  his stride at the sight, recoiling as Slider broke free from his prison.


 "Oh, Ren!" the redcap sang in his best Stimpy as he stood up and
  drew Da Sawblade with his left hand. He needed all the power at his disposal
  for this mage. A second set of eyebrows, set at a forty-five degree angle
  from his normal ones, flared into being on his forehead as the redcap
  grinned evilly. He dug the Wyrm-Minion's keyring out of his pocket and
  tossed it in his right hand, getting a feel for the weight. Throwing the
  keyring over his shoulder toward a far-off corner of the wall, he rushed
  Abtr'El, shouting "Playtime's over!"


 The Lyran reacted quickly, throwing his dagger at the charging
  Maenad and adding a little telekinetic push to the dagger for accuracy.
  Without breaking his stride, Slider swatted the weapon out of the air with
  Da Sawblade, as he covered the distance between the two combatants in record
  time. As Abtr'El tried to bury four inches of cold iron in Slider's guts,
  the redcap caught the mage by the wrist. Lifting the arm holding the dagger
  into the air, Slider plunged Da Sawblade into Abtr'El's stomach, extracting
  a screech of agony from the wizard as the Owsenite2 chainsword chewed
  through his organs.


 A vision of Sabine in unbearable agony as sunlight caused her body
  to burn flashed through Slider's mind for a brief second, causing him to set
  his jaw and twist Da Sawblade. Lavender blood flowed freely from the wound
  as Abtr'El gurgled, making blood flow out of his mouth. He dropped the
  dagger and rasped, "This will not bring her back, nor will it guarantee your
  friends' leaving this tower alive!"


 "Bastard!" Slider spat. "Simpul deff is far too murcifull!" He
  grabbed hold of the Lyran's mask with his right hand and dug his thumb-Claw
  in-between the seal.


 "No...." Abtr'El whispered as he saw Slider's intentions. "Spare me
  the humiliation..."


 "Oh, nononononono. Ya at leest dissurv to 'ave taken from ya wot ya
  took from yer 'spesiminz': yer dignitee!" Slider ripped the mask from the
  Lyran's head, cackling madly at the look of sheer horror that etched itself
  across Abtr'El's gaunt, elvish-looking face.


 Slider slashed a giant X into Abtr'El's chest with both Claws (tm),
  showering the room with blood as the mage's heart was torn open, along with
  everything else in the chest cavity. The lifeless Lyran crumpled to the
  ground, adding even more to the small puddle of blood that had collected at
  his feet. The redcap pulled his Sawblade out of the corpse, revving it to
  shake off any traces of blood. He then picked Abtr'El's mask off the floor
  where he had dropped it in administering the coup de grace and stuffed it
  into the mage's slightly opened mouth.


 "Dat wuz fer Sab, ya zoggin' git," Slider panted as he stood up.
  "Burn in 'ell." As he picked up his Handheld ER PPC and turned for the wall
  that had imprisoned his friends, loud footsteps rang out through the halls.


 At one entrance to the room, about fifteen assorted Sponges ran
  into the chamber, bringing rifles to bear on the redcap. Their leader, a
  female Wyrm-Minion sublieutenant with a butch haircut, brought her pistol to
  high port and asked, "Well, what have we here?"


 "Aw, sneck," Slider breathed. "Shoulda known he'd bring friends!"


---


THE OBSCURE


[1] Dark Helmet (aka CP/DL) says this is a little more obscure, so I have to 
explain this. Unlike mages, who merely reshape reality by sheer force of will, 
changelings use their inherent Glamour to reshape reality, creating spell-like 
effects called cantrips. Fae cantrips are by no means less powerful than mage 
spells. They merely accomplish the same thing in a different way.

[2] Fabius Bile (from Warhammer 40K) is a follower of Slaanesh, Chaos Lord of 
Depravity, who specializes in mutating and torturing his victims.



To be continued in "Epiphanies"...