Operation: Pacifica, Fire in the Hull
by DeadLock the Feral (NYAR!), aka CyberPyro, cybrpyro@infinet.com



[place: The S'hach'Ol, Lyran flagship]
[time: Shortly after the _Des Moines_ is obliterated]


    Captain R'tarn'il covered his eyes as the S'hach'Ol's shields
  absorbed a full barrage from the Jihad's navy.  The world washed away in
  brilliant lavender light and low-pitched humming while the magical
  protection stabilized itself.


    He blinked as details of the bridge emerged from the mono-
  chromatic world.  Crew members scurried around the decks below him and found
  their bearing in the visible world again.  R'tarn'il turned to the main
  control table of the S'hach'Ol, sat down, and signaled the sorcerer's
  enclave to prepare another blast.


    The flagship's Captain lurched from his chair, rolled across the
  table, and thumped onto the floor as the ship bucked violently.  He covered
  his stinging ears as a compression wave roared across the flagship, carrying
  debris with it.


    R'tarn'il drew himself up and looked out onto the deck.  A
  shell, probably a smaller one from the Jihad's fleet, had penetrated the
  flagship's shields and impacted on the deck.  Several fires sprang up in the
  aftermath of the explosion, some dying immediately, and others quickly
  burning out of control.


    As he ordered his subordinates to control this fires. He sensed
  something ... dark .. tenacious .. deadly .. feral approaching the underside
  of his ship.  The S'hach'Ol, in reality a live thing like all Lyran vessels,
  groaned in pain as an entity slashed through the hull into the lower decks.
  They had a Maenad aboard.


    "Repel the intruder!" ordered the captain.  The sorcerers on
  deck below the command center, trying to extinguish the blazes, cried out as
  the fires leapt towards the sails.  The flames flared into blinding
  intensity and then snuffed out with a loud whoosh.


    Amid the silent, blackened ashes of the S'hach'Ol's extinct
  fires stood a tall, muscular man with his head bowed.  He looked up and
  unfolded his arms from across his chest, revealing nine inch long Owsenite2
  Big Ass Claws[tm] as his hands flexed.  He twitched and then shuddered
  violently as the Holy Warp Spasm[tm] of the Holy Albino seized him.


    "NYAR!!" bellowed DeadLock the Feral as he charged the nearest,
  stunned Lyran.  The Lyran's right arm tore from its socket and landed on the
  deck with a dull thud.  The alien's cry of agony never came, rather its
  shredded throat discharged its lifeblood.


    The Maenad jerked to one side, rolling across the deck, as
  another sorcerer discharged a lightning bolt.  The electrical stream went
  wide and crackled out to sea where it dissipated.


    DeadLock finished his roll with a slash of his claws.  The alien
  toppled to the deck as its lower legs reduced to useless ribbons of bloody
  flesh.  Owsenite2 talons pierced its skull a split second later and ended
  its life.


    The gentle, quickened beat of three Lyran hearts drifted into
  DeadLock's ears.  They were near the back of the flagship, close to the
  bridge, a good fifty feet from him.



...



    "Now!" yelled V'heer'Ioa as the Maenad charged their position.
  She raised her arms and released the destructive energies.  Her two
  companions did the same, sending a triad of greenish, explosive force at the
  Maenad's body.


    Three energy streams struck DeadLock's chest dead center.  His
  torso, then his entire body exploded in a shower of Skittles and Doritos.
  The three bewildered Lyran looked at one another.  V'herr'Ioa's eyes opened
  wide as she understood.


    "NYAR!" screamed DeadLock as he fell from the sail's riggings
  overhead onto the surprised Sorceresses.  Their leader died instantly, the
  Maenad using his Claws[tm] and her body to break the fall.


    "NOO .. *glerk*" started the sorceress standing next to her
  leader as the Maenad's Claws[tm] slid between her ribs and jerked strongly
  upwards, turning her innards into sliced up goo.  Her limp, twitching body
  fell to the deck as her killer pressed his attack.


    "Not today," sneered the last sorceress.  A lightning bolt
  flashed from her hands, struck DeadLock in the chest, and sent him flying
  across the ship.  A moment later, he landed on the deck with a solid *thud*,
  rolled, and fell through an open cargo hatch leaving a trail of smoke
  behind.


    Silence fell.  C'iuj'Dl, the last remaining sorceress, paused in
  uncertainty.  She'd expected the Maenad to come snarling back at her, but
  nothing happened.  A quick scan for life signs made the corners of her mouth
  curl up in a smile.  Faint signals.  Very faint.


    C'iuj'Dl hopped down from her position and cautiously crossed
  the deck.  She unfolded the wrapping on an egg with a golden snake coiled
  around it.


    Hopefully, this would kill the Maenad once she found him.



...


    The Lyran floated down into the cargo hold.  It smelled of salt,
  old wooden crates, and burnt flesh.  She side-stepped a pool of blood and
  smiled again: there was a trail of it leading off between the crates.


    C'iuj'Dl chanted softly as she closed on her prey.  She prepared
  to release her weapon: there was the Maenad ... wounded, bleeding, and ...
  ILLUSIONARY?!


    The Lyran stumbled forward, gasping in shock, as a jagged board
  emerged from her chest.  Pain throbbed throughout her being as the stiff,
  unyielding board absorbed a sharp blow that spun her around.  Two rapid
  Claw[tm] swipes opened deep gashes across the sorceress' torso and abdomen.


    Her lifeless body collapsed to the floor as her hand released
  the egg.  A greenish-yellow gas erupted from the broken shell, rapidly
  enveloping DeadLock.  It was poisonous, meant to kill humans on contact.



...




    A yellow-robed, low-ranked Lyran walked slowly across the deck
  of the S'hach'Ol hidden by a shroud of invisibility.  At least four Maenads
  were aboard and he needed every advantage he could get.  He heard a snarling
  cough from the cargo hold, as someone began to climb a ladder.


...




    DeadLock emerged from the below decks, gasping desperately in
  the night air.  His body, in appearance human but in reality far from it,
  fought tenaciously to survive the poison.  He slowly gained his feet, first
  on one knee and then on both feet.


    A bolt of magical energy stabbed into his right thigh, ripping
  flesh and releasing blood in a steaming splash.  The Maenad snarled as he
  crashed to the deck, looking directly at the yellow-robed Lyran who began
  frantically chanting again.


    The Jihaddi's counter-spell died in a snarl of pain as another
  magical bolt ripped across his chest.  DeadLock rolled back onto his
  haunches.  A pair of darts lodged into the deck next to his knee.


    The yellow robe began to chant his last spell, hoping to
  incapacitate the Maenad before a counter-spell could be thrown.  Too late,
  the Lyran realized he'd chosen too long of an incantation.  A fiery bolt
  hissed across the deck and struck the alien sorcerer immediately below his
  ribcage.


    The Lyran's torso both exploded and carbonized from the force of
  DeadLock's magical attack.  Arms, legs, and head ruptured into smaller
  chunks as they blazed brightly before falling in the cold, unforgiving
  ocean.


    "Sick of this shite, I am," grumbled DeadLock as he faded from
  the visible world.



...


    "He's over there!" yelled the Lyran commander.  He and his
  assistant were close to tracking down BlackBlood the Feral.  He'd run amok
  below deck, killing wantonly and proving almost unstoppable.


    "There he..*ack*!" the commander's head, sans torso, slammed
  into a corridor wall compliments of DeadLock's Claw[tm] swipe.  His
  assistant died in mute protest, head ripped in half from a back-claw swipe.


    "NYAR!"



...




    "NO!!  AIEE!!" screamed a Lyran as Maenad claws sliced through
  his lower back and upper legs.  The alien landed with a skid on the floor,
  only to have DeadLock tackle him.  Bones snapped, blood sprayed, and hunks
  of flesh rolled down the corridor as the magician's life ended.


    "Done playing, I am." snarled DeadLock as he flicked lumps of
  tissue from his Claws[tm].


...




    The killing below decks continued at a pace that would simply
  render an observer numb with shock.  Windigo, Shardik, BlackBlood, and
  DeadLock attacked their ancient enemies with a ferocity and fury unmatched
  in any battle in recorded Lyran history.


    Magic, doors, walls, weapons, and bodies of conjured servants
  completely failed to slow the Maenads' killing rage.  In places, the
  corridors literally wallowed in lavender blood and random, dismembered body
  parts.



...




    DeadLock stormed towards the chamber where he knew more Lyran
  were hiding.  A thick, oaken door exploded in burning splinters as he
  charged into the room.  It was some sort of altar room, constructed of
  stone-like material with ornate tapestries and elaborate artwork hanging
  from its walls.  Except for the altar and a few cushion scattered about the
  room, there was no furniture.


    Six Lyrans suddenly blinked into existence in a circle around
  him, released their spells, and trapped him in a twisting cage of evil
  energy.  The energy cage buckled and crackled as Claws[tm] swiped at it,
  trying to break their cohesion.


    The leader of the group stepped forward, a focusing stone in his
  hand.  Lavender and green coils of magical force streamed from the other
  five into the stone as it gathered power.  They intended to annihilate this
  Maenad.


    "We will revenge our slain brethren," intoned the stone's holder
  as he prepared to strike.  DeadLock's form shifted suddenly, mounting a
  counter attack of its own.



...




    Captain R'tarn'il slammed into a wall as the S'hach'Ol jerked to
  one side.  A fair-sized section of the hull on the port side, near the front
  of the ship, disappeared in a huge, fiery geyser.  The jet of flame formed a
  nebulous cloud hovering over the ship.


    Sensing around, the cloud noticed BlackBlood had departed the
  ship.  Shardik could be seen flying towards the increasingly distant DE Navy
  with Windigo in his claws.  Rather than press its luck, the cloud departed.



...




    The Maenad assault on the Lyran flagship was over.  R'tarn'il
  set about counting the bodies, cleaning up the mess, effecting repairs, and
  restoring order as they sailed back to Pacifica.


    "Sir, this has been devastating..." started a yellow-robe.
  R'tarn'il sneered, back-handed his subordinate, and pinned him to the wall
  with his sword.


    "You idiot!  We survived because I pulled us away from the
  Jihad's fleet!"


    "I..."


    "SHUT UP!  If this had been an organized assault by our enemies,
  we wouldn't be alive!  Consider yourself lucky to ponder whether I will run
  you through for stupidity!!"


    "Ye... ye ... yes, sir."


    "Now get to work!" snapped R'tarn'il.  He was in no mood for
  games.  He'd failed to stop the Jihaddi.  They would reach Pacifica shortly,
  and then he would pay the price for his failure.



- DLtF(NYAR!)
Copyright, Pyrokinetic Productions, Inc. (1996)