Operation: Pacifica, Redemption


 BlackBlood gnashed his teeth together.  Pain seemed to penetrate
  every fiber of his being as a massive wound opened in his chest.  Thick,
  dark blood flowed freely down his obsidian form from the gouge in his exo-
  armor.  Then, as quickly as the injury and pain had come, it subsided and
  the gaping hole in his chest closed.  He looked at his hands where once his
  Claws[tm] had been to find nothing but empty space.  Emotions flooded his
  mind.  First shock--was this to be his punishment for battling one of the
  other Maenads?  Then realization, as he flexed his fingers.  His Claws[tm],
  once worn as gauntlets, extended from his fingertips and grew to their full
  length.  He grinned savagely, then gleefully clacked his rediscovered
  Claws[tm] together.


 Windigo likewise extended one of her Claws[tm] and pointed at
  Darkside, the Jihaddi punching bag, dubbing him Nemesis the Feral.  Nemesis
  stared at his new weapon of choice, then joined the others in the Maenad War
  cry.


 The rite complete, Feral Jackson hooked DeadLock and Windigo with
  his massive Claws[tm] and drew them closer to speak to them.  BlackBlood
  backed away, not wishing to intrude, and reverted to his less-feral self and
  headed for where DeadLock had entered the battlefield.


 Samhain turned his head back briefly to look at Feral Jackson one
  more time.  Their eyes met, and understanding passed between them.  There
  was but one thing left to do.  He turned back to the darkness of the abyss
  before him, and leapt into the void.



...




 Samhain reveled in the freefall, allowing himself to accelerate
  rapidly then slowed himself using the darkness itself as his brakes.  He
  landed on a rubble heap with the gentle grace of a cat, then began his
  search.


 He scanned the area, searching for the blade of Cyberpyro's ancient
  Claymore amid the fallen rubble of what had apparently been a staircase.
  Jagged edges and large chunks of marble made progress difficult, but in a
  matter of moments his eyes came to rest on the object of his search.


 The glint of dull torch light reflected from its hilt, catching his
  eyes and drawing them to it.  He hefted the large sword and tucked it under
  his belt, preparing for his trip back to the gathering of Ferals.


 Suddenly, the sound of nearby gunshots filled the area.  Opting to
  postpone his trip back "upstairs", he ran towards the source of the sound.
  Hopefully he wasn't too late...



...




 Chris fired repeatedly at the approaching Lyran mage.  He wasn't
  about to let himself be taken back for more torture.  He wouldn't let them
  do it... he'd die before he suffered further injury at their hands!


 Each time he fired, a nagenta shield flickered into existence,
  stopping the projectile before it could reach its mark.  The sorceror
  cackled as he approached.  "You poor, misguided fool.  You cannot harm me!
  You shouldn't have run from us.  Now you must be punished for your
  mistrust..." he intoned.


 "Not while I'm here, he won't!" Yelled Samhain, charging towards
  the Lyran from behind.


 The Lyran turned his head, a look of shock and horror showing
  itself in the corners of his mouth.  The arrogant yellow glow faded from his
  eyes as the solitary figure rushed towards him, massive Claymore at the
  ready.  In a fluid motion it was brought up and slammed into the Lyran's
  gut, seeking the softness of vital organs.  Its blade, now run through its
  prey, wrenched sideways and out of his body.  He stammered, trying futilely
  to cast a protection spell as the blade swung in a broad arc, then cleft
  smoothly through his skull in a brutal coup de grace.


 Chris watched in stunned silence as a strange figure emerged from
  the shadows to attack his tormentor.  He stared as a claymore flew in a blur
  of motion, killing the advancing mage.   Though his blurred vision would not
  allow him to see its bearer, especially in the dim lighting conditions so
  prevalent in the citadel, it could be none other than CyberPyro!  Nobody
  else could wield a blade like that!  As the corpse fell to the floor,
  though, his eyes slowly managed to focus.  That wasn't him!  But... how...
  who...


 "Hi," spoke his defender gently.  "Are You ok?"


 Chris stared at the broad, bloodied blade of the Claymore as its
  wielder knelt down to face him.


 "You know CyberPyro?"


 Chris nodded meekly.


 "C'mon, I'll make sure you get out of here safely, and this gets
  back to him," smiled Samhain.


 Chris only too happily agreed, and was soon scooped up into his
  arms for a quick ride to safety.



...




 Samhain hurried along the corridors, looking for a way to get Chris
  outside to safety.  As they approached an intersection, the air became
  extremely laden with dust.  Pieces of rubble littered the floor of the hall
  just beyond the junction.  Samhain gestured for Chris to stay back, then
  peered cautiously around the corner.


 The red beams of laser sights traced out seemingly random paths
  around the hall.  As Samhain watched, it became apparent that those random
  paths were in fact intricately coordinated and arranged sweep patterns,
  covering every area of the hall.  Much to Chris' horror, he stood and
  stepped out into the open and was greeted by a cluster of red dots gathering
  on his body.


 "Hey, point those things somewhere else," he commanded
  authoritatively.  "And what took you all so long?"


 "Hey, it's the boss-man!" came the distinctive voice of Murphey.
  "Point 'em away, folks, and cover our butts!" he ordered.  There was a brief
  clatter of weapons being shuffled to cover positions as the red dots moved
  away from Samhain, then silence fell across the hallway once again.


 "Murph, this here's Chris.  He's one of the good guys and has been
  through a helluva lot.  Your job's to get him out of here pronto.  Capice?"


 Chris looked at the imposing form of the battle-armored Chosen of
  Khorne, then back to Samhain.


 Samhain knelt next to Chris patiently.  "Hey, relax... these are
  good guys; they'll get you out," he explained.  Noting the look in his eyes,
  he continued.  "Look, its those guys in battle armor with plenty of fire
  support or one guy with a sword that isn't his.  You trust me, right?"


 Chris nodded.


 "Good, then believe me when I say you can trust them.  They'll take
  you home."


 Seeing that disagreement was pointless, Chris went along with the
  10th Company of the Chosen of Khorne.  Samhain watched them go, moving
  rapidly yet cautiously on their path back out of the citadel.  "Now, gotta
  finish what I started..."


...




 Samhain materialized in the dark shaft and stepped back onto the
  platform.  DeadLock stepped forward to greet his friend, then presented him
  with a pair of swords--a katana and a wakizashi.  Samhain bowed deeply,
  accepted the swords, and handed over the giant Claymore that had become one
  of CyberPyro's trademarks.  He stared at it, then took it gently.  The two
  clasped forearms, a mutual understanding and agreement passing silently
  between them.


 Now, it was time to end the game.



...
"Redemption"
Copyright 1997
David R. Hibbs