Operation: Pacifica,  Smoke on the Water
by BlackBlood the Feral (NYAR!), midnite@iastate.edu


 Samhain surveyed damage to the fleet from the bridge of the _Des
  Moines_.  Smoke plumes rose from several of the ships, though none of them
  looked too terribly bad.  The worst off was the _Freedom_, damping hopes of
  launching future large-scale air missions, but most of their fighter assets
  were already in the air.  From what he heard over the radios, too, they were
  doing much better than in their previous encounters despite being grossly
  outnumbered early on.  He lowered his binoculars and started to unwrap a
  tootsie roll, only to be met with a scathing glare from Captain Inger.
  "What?!?!" he asked.


 "You know the rules.  The bridge is *not* a cafeteria, and as such
  I don't want to see anyone with food in here.  There are no exceptions,"
  lectured the Captain.  The bridge crew, including the XO, all rolled their
  eyes and lip-synced the speech, having heard it hundreds of times before.
  Fortunately for them, he didn't notice any of them doing it.


 Samhain sighed deeply and stepped outside the bridge to enjoy his
  tootsie roll and listen to the rolling thunder of the deck guns aboard the
  battleships.  Fingers of flame rose into the dark equatorial night in the
  distance where one of the shots smashed into its target.  As Samhain started
  fishing in his pocket for another tootsie roll, the sound of the explosion
  reached his ears.  Suddenly, the hair on the back of his neck stood on end,
  seemingly without cause.  His eyes wildly scanned the water and fleet for
  danger, then locked on what was apparently the spongin flagship, his upper
  lip curling upwards in a subconscious snarl of "NYAR!" as they did so.
  "Wondering where that came from..." he started in the strange English used
  by Windigo as he noticed the flagship start to shimmer.


 Instinct suddenly sent him diving over the rail, not caring if
  anyone saw him, plunging towards the murky depths of the ocean water below
  him.  A bolt of energy an unnatural shade of green crackled from the
  flagship towards the _Des Moines_ and then engulfed it in a single massive
  fireball behind him as his hands hit the water.  Samhain's ears nearly burst
  with the sudden pressure increase due to the explosion.  He had started
  swimming back to the surface when A massive undertow sucked him into an
  underwater debris field, pieces of which sliced through his uniform and
  ripped jagged stripes across his flesh.  He reeled with the massive forces
  simultaneously crushing him and  pulling him apart, pain touching reaching
  every nerve in his body.  He forced himself to concentrate, to extend
  himself and to become one with the blackness of the water as it gushed and
  flowed around his body.  He felt his way to the surface as a shadowy murk,
  where he reformed himself just in time to hear the tremendous splash of the
  aft section of the ship hitting the water almost 300 feet behind him,
  approximately 20 seconds  after the ship was rent in half.  A spray of water
  and debris, still flaming from the explosion, rained down around him as he
  rode the wave out.  "NYAR!!!!!!!" he roared, then dove underwater, swimming
  with all his fury and might directly into the path of the charging Lyran
  ship.



...


 The Lyran mage made his way towards the bow of the flagship so as
  to be the key nexus in the next barrage.  He meditated silently, gathering
  all of his available magical energies.  Suddenly, something disrupted his
  concentration and his blood ran cold in its veins.  He felt a presence
  approaching... one of the Lyrans' most fearsome adversaries... a Maenad.


 He stopped where he was, intent on intercepting the intruder before
  he could get anywhere.  A sound like thunder filled the corridor and the
  already dim lighting flickered to nearly nothing as a row of massive slashes
  opened up in the exterior wall.  Water gushed into the hallway, filling the
  corridor to his knees before he could finish the spell to seal off the
  wounds in the ship's hull.  As the material around the gashes regrew and
  sealed themselves, he could sense a presence all around him now.  It was too
  late; a tremendous geyser of water erupted as a dark figure suddenly
  coalesced directly in front of him.


 One of the invader's arms flew in a huge arc towards the mage, Big-
  Ass Claws[tm] leaving trails of shadowy flames in mid-air as they raced
  towards, across, and through their target.  Odd black flames danced across
  the water and erupted mid-air, wherever there was Lyran blood.  "NYAR!!!!!"
  boomed a voice through the corridor as the mage fell in pieces.


 A trio of mages splashed into the hall upon hearing the Maenad
  battle cry.  Before they could even see their foe, it was upon them; the
  warpspasming Maenad's Big-Ass Claws[tm] ripped them to shreds and sent their
  entrails flying down the hallway to stain the walls with the bright colors
  of gore.  "F*cking you over, I am[tm,WtF]," remarked BlackBlood the Feral as
  he scooped up the remnants of the corpses.  He then headed off into the
  bowls of the ship, dragging them along behind him by their innards.



...




 The Lyrans sat in the center of the darkened room in 2 concentric
  circles, chanting rythmically as waves of mystical power roiled in the air
  above them.  Their concentration came to a sudden stop as the single door to
  their sanctum was smashed inwards and crunched to the floor in a mangled
  heap.


 Suddenly, three lassos made of the innards and sinews of various
  Lyrans were tossed into the room.  The loop of each lasso circled perfectly
  around the neck of each of the three Lyrans closest to the door, then
  tightened rapidly as it was yanked backwards.  Seconds later, the remaining
  Lyrans in the room found themselves listening to growls, snarls, rips, tears
  and howls of agony from outside the chamber as their brethren were shredded
  brutally.  They listened, horrified, and began to chant spells in case the
  attacker should choose to make himself known.


 "NYAR!" came an unmistakable roar from the doorway as the intruder
  stepped into view.  "No more majickal blasts tonight will there be, no..."
  he snarled.


 Just then, the first of the Lyrans unleashed a magic blast at the
  imposing figure of the Maenad.  Unfortunately for him, his spell choice had
  been poor; he'd chosen the one kind of blast that BlackBlood could deal with
  better than any other--a lightning bolt.  BlackBlood simply absorbed the
  blast, lines of crackling blue electricity curling around the massive metal
  claws extending from his hands.  He grinned evilly at the group as they
  stared in shock, then dove to the side of the doorway before the barrage of
  spell-blasts began.




 [After him, fools!] ordered the highest ordered Lyran in the group.
  Lyran sorcerors flooded into the hallway, searching for their attacker.



...




 A pair of Lyrans rounded a corner, cautiously searching for the
  Maenad they knew to be aboard.  There was a pair of brief screams from down
  the corridor behind them, but as they turned around to run towards the
  source they came face to face with something they hadn't expected... the
  Big-Ass Claws[tm] of DeadLock raced across both of their necks.  "NYAR!" he
  cried, drowning out the sound of blood splattering against the wall like a
  bucket of paint being tossed at a canvas.



...


 BlackBlood ran through the labyrinthine corridors like a crazed
  madman, then ducked into a small opening just past a doorway none too soon.
  A Lyran entered the T-intersection at the end of the hall, obviously scrying
  to locate the fleeing Feral.  He paused momentarily, obviously confused,
  then started down the hall towards where BlackBlood was hiding.  BlackBlood
  stepped out into the open and unleashed the stored blast of lightning at the
  Lyran, frying him like a strip of bacon.  It was then that the head Lyran
  chose to make his presence known, stepping out into view from the
  intersection as well.


 "It is wise, sometimes, to let the underlings bear the brunt, is it
  not?" he remarked, eyes sparkling with evil rage at the Maenad before him.


 "NYAR!" was all the answer BlackBlood gave, then fled back down the
  corridor in the other direction, magical bolts impacting the walls and floor
  behind him as he ran.



...




 BlackBlood ducked around a corner again, the hunted once again
  becoming the hunter, and listened as footsteps approached from the T-
  intersection he'd just come from.  They stopped just short of the
  intersection, giving him his cue.  "NYAR!" he cried, stepping around the
  corner, claws flying in a vicious, disemboweling, arc.  Blood and innards
  flew and splattered, but they didn't belong to the prey which BlackBlood
  sought... that prey was just down the hall, mocking him and preparing a
  magic blast.


 "Hahahahahaha!  Foolish Maenad!" he cackled, raising his hands in
  preparation, then suddenly cut the spell short to duck and roll as a blur of
  white fur slashed through the air where he had just been standing.  "NYAR!"
  snarled a gutteral female voice from right behind him.  Realizing his folly,
  the Lyran decided it was to cut his losses and run like hell.


 BlackBlood paused only long enough to nod in greeting to Windigo
  before charging down the hall after the fleeing sorceror.


...




 BlackBlood kicked open a hatch and emerged onto the deck.  As he
  surveyed the deck looking for his prey, he said "I'm heeeerrrrrreee... now
  come out and play nice... I won't hurt you... much..."


 Just then the Lyran stepped out from behind a corner, his hands
  tucked together inside the sleeves of his robes.  "No, I don't think you
  will," he grinned evilly, separating his hands and allowing his sleeves to
  slide open pointed at the Maenad standing in the open.


 Before he could react, tremendous waves of energy and force were
  smashing into his chest, trying to rip him apart.  He staggered backwards,
  fighting to resist their force.  In a stupor, he reached for the railing at
  the edge, only to be hit by another blast and topple over the edge.



...




 The Lyran cackled to himself as he loosed first one, then two,
  magical blasts at the intruding Maenad.  Ripples of distortion writhed
  around the target, sending him staggering backwards over the edge of the
  ship where he faded out of existance.  The mage grinned evilly... "one
  down..." he thought to himself.  Just then, he felt someone tapping on his
  shoulder.  He turned around to see the very night itself grinning at him,
  red eyes peering out of him like glowing embers.  He stammered, trying to
  cast a protection spell, but it was too late.


 Two quick slashes of Big-Ass Claws[tm] rendered the mage a pile of
  goo on the deck.


 BlackBlood reformed himself just as the sound of explosions came
  from deep within the ship.  "Time to go," he thought, then dove over the
  edge of a ship for the second time in one night.



...




 When BlackBlood surfaced again, the Lyran ship was steaming into
  the distance at a high rate of speed, smoke pouring from its top.  "See you
  again some day, I will," he said to himself.  Then he dove down deep again
  and became one with the darkness that lies beneath the churning waves.



...




 "Sir!  There's someone in the airlock sir!" a lieutenant reported
  to Captain Roth aboard the DSRV _Stalker_.


 "Well, don't just stand there, Lieutenant.  Let him in!"


...




 Moments later, Samhain was seated in a leather chair on the bridge,
  a towel around his shoulders, black hat bearing the _Stalker_ logo scrunched
  on his head, and cup of coffee bearing the Doberman Navy insignia in his
  hand.  He reached into the pocket of his still-drenched uniform and pulled
  out a tootsie roll and proceeded to extract it from its wrapper with some
  difficulty.


 "Hey..." called Captain Roth.


 "oh no..." thought Samhain to himself, "...not this one too..."


 "...got one of those for me?"




"Smoke on the Water"
Copyright 1996
David R. Hibbs