Wrath of the Gods: Atlantis, #3

Prologue

The Sixth Realm of Atlantis had been foiled in their plan to return the Island State of Arcanadia and its capital Atlantis to eminence over the modern world. The disruption to their well laid plans annoyed many of their influential citizens who still believed that they should rule the world.

Atalanta; renowned warrior, and Carathrides, a prominent merchant, hatched a plan to free the dreaded Titans from incarceration in Tartarus. They fled Atlantis under false pretence, leaving deadly traps to delay pursuit.

One of Carathrides concubines had heard enough of the plan to be able to relay some information and Saraph, Danny and Sophia went to the Grand Atlantis Archives. Whilst there Danny discovered traces of technology that was at odds to the level that Atlantis normally demonstrated.

They discovered some of the history of the Titans and their historic battle with the Olympians and ascertained the general location of the entrance to Tartarus. In desperation they asked the naval taskforce maintaining station off the coast to transport the Third Heavy Infantry to the entrance ahead of the secretive Sixth Infantry.

Atalanta was wise to the capabilities of her new adversaries and led a small detachment on a forced march to get to her target before the rest of her warriors. Her subterfuge worked and she was able to slip into the tunnels above Tartarus while the two military forces faced each other. She and Carathrides removed the seals on Tartarus and released the Titanic Horde.

The Atlantis warriors were attacked by the horde and only escaped with the aid of the fleet. Danny and his friends were separated and fled with Atalanta as prisoner, leaving Carathrides to take control of the Horde. He instructed the vengeful creatures to head towards Atlantis where they would fulfil his plans for taking over the world.

Pursued by Gorgons, Danny was seen falling over a cliff into a rushing river. Not knowing whether he was dead or not Sophia was reluctant to leave, but the pressing need to alert made her realise she had to go on. They left Hernet the Sphinx to seek out Danny’s fate.

Heading towards the Temple of Zeus through Minoan lands they came across M’Varak and a group of his warriors on their way to a clan gathering. They had been visited by the Titaness Theia who demanded their loyalty as they were once allied with her and the Minoan leader was going to present his thoughts to the rest of his race. The Minoans decided to fight alongside their new allies.

Danny had fallen into a raging torrent but was saved by a Naiad. He woke to find himself in a cave with a stranger who revealed himself as Hildar, the disgraced warrior from the Sixth Realm who Danny had tasked with finding his honour. Danny brought the warrior up to date with events and details of the release of the Titans. Hildar in turn revealed information that he was Hercules, one of the legendary Kouretes, and had fought in the Titanmachy, the battle between the Olympians and the Titans.

He informed Danny that the island was a massive space ship containing advanced mind controlling systems. He knew that the Titans intended to use the technology and agreed to help Danny in thwarting them. They set off towards a secret location where they could gather weapons to defeat the ancient foe.

The Horde approached Atlantis and Cronus, their leader, discovered the allegiance of the Minoans and ordered a plague to be unleashed on them. The Horde faced modern weapons and had to divert. In the skirmishes a hole was blown through the hull of the spaceship and Theia entered. Taking a huge risk the Royal Navy submarine H.M.S. Astute sailed under the island in pursuit of Kraken and identified an airlock. A Special Forces unit was despatched to investigate.

Danny and Hercules reached another secret entrance to the space ship. Hercules gave Danny and Hernet more history including the news that humans did not originate on Earth. He escorted them to the ships bridge where they were captured by the last remaining Kourete, Neith.

Saraph, Dingo, Eraz, Coran, Sophia and Atalanta reached Atlantis where the Sixth Realm Officer was immediately arrested for treason. The Third Heavy infantry were defeated by the Titans Horde with only General Gravioran being spared. He was able to kill Carathrides but this released the Titans from his control. The city prepared for combat and the horde was unleashed.

Dingo realised that Atalanta was capable of stopping the Titans and arranged for her release. She commanded the cease of hostilities and the horde began to withdraw from the city. But Theia reached the ship’s control room and forced Danny to disable the loyalty routines so the Titans were free of Atalanta’s control.

Danny was able to delay the release of that protocol but immediately removed the shield that prevented modern weapons from working. In pretence of informing Theia of his actions he also relayed the information to the outside world.

The horde was retreating from Atlantis under the control of Atalanta when the delayed collapse of the loyalty protocols happened. Instead of having an army at their backs the Titans were now faced by a horde that hated them and the humans for the incarceration they had endured.

As chaos erupted at the release of control the modern world attacked the horde. Most of the Horde fled but some followed the lead of the giants to attack both the Titans and Atlantis. The giants could heal at an astonishing rate and the remaining Titans were forced to join forces with the humans for survival.

Beneath the surface they discovered that not all of the Olympians had been killed. Apollo was still alive, but detained in a cell within the ship. He was offered the opportunity to fight against the Giants again and accepted.

The combined forces of the US Marines, British Parachute Regiment, Minoans and the Atlantian army were pushed back by the seemingly invulnerable Giants until they reached the Temple Plaza of Poseidon. With the arrival of the new Kouretes the tide turned and they began striking at the Giants. Apollo lost all control and began to shoot at giants who had surrendered. Hercules and Neith tried to restrain him, but he fled, pursuing Typhon. Cronus chased after his son and the two faced the giant’s leader.

Typhon critically injured the two Titans and was about to kill Apollo when Hercules, Neith and the SBS Troopers caught up, severely injuring the giant. They attempted to save Apollo and Cronus but they died. As their attention was diverted Typhon recuperated and fled back to the temple.

Danny used the remaining Titans as bait and lured Typhon within range. Using his energy weapon he disabled the giant, and the Titans began to exact their revenge. Dingo was shocked by the callous nature of the Titans attack, realising they were continuously injuring the giant rather than despatching him. With his first ever accurate spear throw he transfixed Typhon’s eye and brain, killing him and ending the battle.

In the aftermath the Minoans began to be treated for the plague, but there seemed to be no cure. Danny took a sample of M’Varak’s blood with the intention of getting the powerful computers to build an antidote. Instead he discovered that a signal had been sent out with the removal of the shields and a reply had been received from outer space.

Chapter 1 - A Message from the Void

Deep Space, beyond The Barrier - 28 August

The battered vessel drifted through the vacuum with its main drives and manoeuvring thrusters idling. Nevertheless it was still travelling at a massive velocity due to the blasts of energy expended in getting it moving. With no resistance and no sources of gravity within millions of kilometres they were not required.

The hull of the ship was battered due to the missions it habitually undertook, rather than from neglect or battle. Its relatively small but heavily protected control hub was perched like a slug on a marrow across the top of a large, currently pressurised container that had a complex scoop and filtration unit at its lower lip. The powerful engines were also raised away from the main body.

Across the blunt nose of the ship was the stylised image of an armoured woman riding a winged horse. Her shield had the symbol denoting the number twelve which matched the name of the ship. Valkyrie Twelve.

The strange design supported the function of the ship. It was designed to fly into the gravity well of gaseous planets and scoop up the atmosphere, compressing and liquefying the elements if necessary. It was a dangerous mission, but one that had its rewards.

The crew of the ship were currently enjoying the spoils of their successful labour as the recycled air within the ship was supplemented by an additional ten per cent of oxygen stripped from storm tossed atmosphere of the planetoid they had visited. The higher than usual concentration of the life giving gas was creating a sense of euphoria and heightened senses.

It was therefore no surprise that the blinking light that appeared on the console of the communication officer’s station was spotted immediately.

‘We have an incoming transmission,’ announced Markus Carlsberg, the junior communications officer.

‘Damnation, we have just picked up a load. I am not dumping this cargo for a Search and Rescue mission.’ cursed the commander of the vessel, Captain Einar Gundersson.

The communications officer sat closer to the display as a vast amount of data began to scroll across his screen. His pale skin turned slightly paler as the enormity of the message revealed itself.

‘Sir, it’s not from the Core, it’s from out there!’

The captain was instantly out of his chair and beside the console. He elbowed Markus aside and leant down to examine the information.

‘By the Gods, this is amazing. If this is correct we’ve found our fortune. Check the details,’ he thought for a moment, ‘no. Send a message back telling the source to pause transmission until we send a restart. I don’t want anybody else intercepting this information. Once you’ve done that check the information for accuracy.’

‘Yes sir,’ Markus resumed his seat and bent to the task.

The captain moved back a few metres and began to pace. Every so often he moved closer to look over the officer’s shoulder to see how he was progressing. After a few minutes the young man finished his research and pushed back his chair along the track on the deck. He turned to the captain and opened his eyes wide in surprise.

‘Go on,’ prompted the captain impatiently.

The rest of the command crew turned to look at their youngest member.

‘I’ve corroborated the protocols from the data. It took me so long because I had to access our deep archives. The data is a format used in one of the earliest of the fourth generation artificial intelligence matrixes. It identifies the source as being the Arcanadia, a Delphi Class deep space colony ship that left the planet Olympus in 58,429.’

‘That’s over nine thousand years ago,’ muttered Larsson, the navigator.

‘According to records the ship was missing presumed destroyed after the destruction of Olympus. There have never been any reports of sightings or communication with it, even after ships were able to pierce the barrier. It had a crew of Cyclops and Titans with Humans for colonisation. Pretty much everybody still alive after the purge. It also had, this is strange, a complement of Kouretes?’ He looked at the captain in question.

‘Some kind of internal security team. The people of Olympia had always been tight on policing their own. Supposed to excel in battle, much that that helped!’ Gundersson explained.

‘It was kitted for deep space colonisation, with the most advanced engines of the age. Even compared to now they are good specification, null space converters, pulse engines, Point 37 transit rating. Its construction used Orichalcum too.’

‘So what’s it been doing for the last nine millennia?’ asked the captain.

‘According to the data it’s sent so far it has completed its primary mission successfully. It’s crew terraformed a planet that is nearly thirteen thousand kilometres in diameter and has a near perfect gravitational field. The jewel in the crown however is the atmosphere. It’s just over seventy eight per cent Nitrogen and nearly, get this... twenty one per cent Oxygen.’

‘Bloody Hel,’ announced the captain, ‘it’s perfect. Do we have the coordinates? Please tell me we have the coordinates.’

His excitement was contagious, and the command crew began chattering to each other.

The junior officer let a huge grin spread across his face.

‘We do!’

‘Excellent. Start collating an information packet containing the key facts. Leave out every reference to its location or the name of the ship, in fact send me the coordinates and purge any record from the main system. I want a sales packet ready by the time we get through the barrier. This will be the biggest auction ever,’ he turned to the navigator, ‘how long until we reach the barrier?’

‘Nineteen hours captain.’

‘Sound the alarm an hour out. I want the ship battened down with escorts and gunners ready. This run is our last and I don’t want there to be any accidents.’

He returned to his command chair and stared out of the small view screen, considering his options. A smile crossed his face as he realised how privileged his future would be. A world with a perfect atmosphere was priceless. He knew of people who had discovered moonlets with atmospheres barely able to support life that had become wealthy beyond their dreams. A full, life sustaining planet would make them all as rich as the gods.

VALKYRIE 12, THE BARRIER - 29 August

‘Sir, ten thousand kilometres from the Barrier,’ announced the navigator.

‘Slow to one tenth pulse engines. Scan the Barrier. I want to know if there’s anybody in this sector.’

Gundersson stared out of the view screen at the space phenomena before them. The Barrier had been created several millennia ago when war was a common event in the Core. The Barrier had previously been a large number of planets that had been destroyed in the war, notably those inhabited by the Olympians and due to the formation of suns and their erratic orbits the debris had formed a cocoon that surrounded the Core worlds.

An effect of the Barrier was to completely block out all light and radio waves from deep space. This had severely reduced the capabilities of the Core’s expansion into the universe for several thousand years until the deployment of the debris had settled.

Once this had happened a flurry of activity had started with ships heading into the void beyond in search of raw materials and planets. The bravest and most adventurous took headings into the unmapped depths of space to try and find planets where they could strip resources. Those who did kept these locations secret and made their fortunes by either continuing to use them as a store, or auctioning their location off to the highest bidder.

Gundersson had only just found a wandering planetoid that had a frozen oxygen atmosphere. He believed it had been blown out of its orbit during the war, and if he had the deep scanners he couldn’t afford, he would find traces of civilisation buried in the ice.

Instead, he had resorted to using the specially designed atmosphere scoop to excavate as much of the frozen life-giving gas he could. All he had to do now was navigate through the barrier and open a bidding war for the precious cargo.

Unfortunately for him he had to pass the Barrier. Apart from being a potential killer of ships due to the ever shifting debris, it was also home to pirates who enjoyed preying on returning vessels.

‘What have we got?’

The navigator worked at his console for a few moments then projected an area of the Barrier across the middle of the control room.

‘There are two potential routes in the zone at this time. Alpha is the more open, and we would be able to progress at five per cent pulse. The other, Beta is narrower and we could progress at maybe three per cent. If either is monitored anybody out there is able to switch route by traversing channel Gamma between them.’

Gundersson lifted himself out of his command chair to look closer.

‘Alright, this is what we will do. We’re out of scanning range of most smaller ships luckily. Tactical, I want a decoy deployed along route Alpha at ten percent equivalent. When it is almost at channel Gamma I want another deployed along route Beta at five per cent relative and the original decoy to ram some debris. If somebody is tracking it they will hopefully think we’re trying to sneak through Beta and will redeploy there. We will head into Alpha at the same time at one per cent with energy emissions at minimum.

‘Gun crews will be ready as will interceptors. If we are spotted we will accelerate to fifteen per cent and run for it. Everybody is to suit up.’ he grinned at them.

The crew knew their commander was capable of handling the ship at high speed in such tight manoeuvring conditions.

‘Let’s do this,’ he announced, ‘sections to report in as soon as ready.’

The control room became a hive of activity.  The three gun commanders hooked themselves into the gun control net whereby they could directly control as many as four of the twelve remote gun emplacements on the hull of the ship at any one time.

The interceptor pilots also stepped into sound proofed booths that gave them direct control of the two small fighter craft that were docked at the back of the control structure. Capable of greater changes of direction and acceleration than any living pilot they were powerful but tied closely to the ship due to the transmission delay at longer ranges.

When all stations had reported in as ready Gundersson gave the order and the first decoy was deployed. Only two metres long the decoy acted as something much larger. It was capable of recognising wavelengths of energy that related to scanning frequencies and amplified the return signal. Unless a visual sighting was made they could pass for a vessel several hundred times larger.

Decoy One accelerated away towards the larger channel whilst Decoy Two was soft launched without any propulsion. It used the energy from the ejection to coast towards the entrance to passage Beta. Valkyrie Twelve maintained its slow drift, passive scanners and high resolution cameras scouring for any unusual changes in the background debris.

‘Sir, three signatures isolated along channel Gamma.’

‘Show me,’ ordered the captain.

The officer manipulated his controls and the display zoomed towards the identified zone.

‘Hel’s titties,’ cursed the navigator as he looked up from his controls to see what had been spotted, ‘Cizin fighters.’

Three wedge shaped craft were slowly manoeuvring through the debris towards the decoy, their yellow and black patterned hulls enabling them to blend in with the blackness of space, the debris and the flashes of refracted light from the distant suns. At the current range they looked small and insignificant, but the navigator knew their capabilities.

Heavily armed and armoured the Cizins had been in use for hundreds of years due to their resilience and ease of use. Although their weaponry was powerful they had limited ammunition capability, but that didn’t make them vulnerable. The heavy shielding on their wedged prow made it possible for the fighters to ram other vessels with a high probability of continued flight capability.

Their targets on the other hand, would often suffer explosive decompression as their hulls were ripped apart.

‘Deploy our interceptors in optimum advance positions. If we get chance I want them to take flanking positions. Their weapons are no match for the Cizin front armour.’ It went unsaid that the weapons on the Valkyrie would also be hard pressed to damage the fighters.

The order was relayed to the remote pilots who immediately launched the small craft from the hangars. Using almost minuscule bursts of ionised gases they rotated in space and pushed past the bulk of the Valkyrie.

‘Instruct decoy one to drift away from the Cizin,’ ordered Gundersson.

As the change in vector of the decoy was received and processed a change came over the Cizin. Instead of slowly moving towards the decoy bursts of energy emerged from their main propulsion units and they leapt forward.

‘They’ve detected it. Send evade orders to decoy one. Initiate Decoy two.’

The instructions were sent and the crew watched in silence at the events playing out hundreds of kilometres away.

The first Cizin entered the clear channel designated as Alpha and instantly accelerated again. Without any warning it released its first barrage of weapons. A series of small missiles were ejected from ports to the sides of the craft. Upon reaching a safe distance their engines pulsed and they accelerated rapidly towards the decoy.

The distance to the decoy was travelled in a few seconds as the engines in the missiles continuously accelerated them forward. Each missile was sending out a signal and believing the return. As such they carried out minor course corrections to target where they believed the control centre would be.

Instead of connecting with a ship the missiles bypassed the decoy by dozens of metres. Such was their speed they flashed across the channel and slammed into debris, destroying themselves in the process and throwing shards in all directions.

Gundersson and the crew could almost feel the surprise of the Cizin pilots. The two that were just emerging in channel Alpha immediately executed precise flips around their centre of gravity, followed by a pulse of their main engine to propel them back into Gamma at a high velocity. The remaining fighter also carried out a flip but only emitted enough energy to halt its forward motion. It hung in the middle of the channel, business end pointed directly at the Valkyrie.

‘On my mark I want all forward guns targeting the left side of that Cizin at the same time as the Interceptors move in. I want those missile launchers pointing away from us and its flanks exposing before we move in.’

Gundersson watched the progress of the other fighters and the relative motions of the second decoy and the Valkyrie.

There was a short, tense period of silence as the vessels moved through the channels.

‘How much control do we retain over decoy one?’

‘Five seconds of thrust,’ responded Oleg Maddsson, the systems officer.

‘Turn off all decoy functions, flip it and send it directly back at the Cizin at maximum burn, maybe that will get it to turn.’

‘Yes sir.’

Gundersson watched the screen, hoping to see the bursts of released energy that signified the change of attitude for the decoy. However, the small size and extreme distance made the remotely controlled craft invisible.

The first sign of action was a sudden lurch in the Cizin as the decoy, now emitting no distracting signals, slammed into the rear of the fighter. Travelling at a reasonably high speed it acted as a missile with no payload. The damage was minimal, but with no inertia the fighter was knocked from its axis.

‘Engage,’ snapped Gundersson.

The navigator instantly pulsed the engines and the Valkyrie accelerated. There was a slight feeling of the change in motion before the inertial dampers compensated.

The gunners instantly flicked their weapons from standby to active and unleashed a torrent of hyper speed projectiles at the spinning fighter. Each of the eight forward facing turrets was slaved in sets of four to maximise damage on the single target.

The first salvo struck the side of the Cizin and encountered the armour. It resisted the energy of the first wave of projectiles, but the second and subsequent salvoes struck the same area and began punching through to inflict damage on the main hull.

Flashes of energy could be seen where the salvoes hit, but the robust fighter was still active. The pilot pulsed the engines, removing it from the stream of death.

‘Maximise turret spread, deploy the interceptors.’

As the Cizin regained control and turned to face the approaching ship the tiny interceptors streaked towards it. Their engines were sending out controlled pulses of energy under control of the pilots safely cocooned in their remote stations.

‘It’s launched!’ shouted the Maddsson officer.

‘How many?’ Gundersson’s voice was muffled by the full environmental suit he was wearing.

‘Four,’ the systems officer gripped the edge of his console.

The Valkyrie’s gunners had years of military service behind them and they justified the high wages and bonuses Gundersson was happy to pay them. As one attempted to track the Cizin, the other tasked each of his four forward facing turrets at the approaching missiles.

At hyper velocity the time to target was short, but the tracks were predictable and the defensive gunner was able to create an envelope of projectiles that triggered the explosive heads in the missiles. The closest missile disintegrated less than two kilometres from the ship.

The offensive gunner quickly bracketed the fighter and more of its armour was obliterated, throwing a new debris field to block its sensors. Finally a critical system was hit, causing a manoeuvring jet to lock fully open. The Cizin began to rotate at an increasing rate.

‘Take us to fifteen per cent,’ ordered Gundersson, ‘and tell me where the other fighters are.’

‘They’re holding position in Gamma channel. Looks like they’ve decided to let us go.’

‘Keep an eye on them. I don’t want them sneaking up on us.’

‘Four minutes to clear space,’ announced the navigator.

The Valkyrie continued to navigate the relatively clear channel. They could feel and hear the odd vibration as the hull was struck by stray debris, but as open space began to show they started to relax.

‘Recall the interceptors.’

The two pilots initiated a pre-set procedure and the two interceptors instantly homed into their docks at full speed without any additional directions.

‘Interceptor One Docked. We have Two as well.’

With the Barrier safely behind them Gundersson gave the order to accelerate. There was a vast burst of energy from the rear engines and the large cargo ship flashed into the distance, leaving the stricken Cizin fighter to be rescued by its colleagues.

ASGARD SPACE - 30 AUGUST

Valkyrie 12 was on an approach to the Asgard planet of Trollheim. Once a verdant planet covered in forests and lakes it had slowly undergone a transformation as its natural resources were felled and mined to exhaustion and beyond. In most cases the resources stripped or generated on the planet were taken, used or sold by other planets with little recompense.

Trollheim enjoyed the dubious pleasure of being one of the most central planets in the core and had a number of space stations orbiting it. It was nominally a planet with a diameter of sixteen thousand kilometres, yet the mining that had taken place had reduced the sphere to a core of two thousand kilometres in diameter with a multitude of stalk like columns rising from the core into the thin atmosphere.

The planet only remained viable as a habitation due to the vast domes that existed on the remains of the surface. Precariously supported by the individual columns reaching down to the core they housed cities where people were crushed in together. Poverty was rife, with taxes running at exorbitant rates to pay for the greedy power and atmosphere processing companies that filtered the heavily polluted air.

Such was the desperation of many of the citizens that they willingly sold themselves into slavery, hoping that they would be sold to wealthy owners on other planets. Highly skilled workers were sometimes lucky enough to leave their planets, as were the beautiful or unusual. The constant pressure to work resulted in high levels of suicide and average lifespans on the industrial planets barely reached fifty years old.

They were condemned to misery as the stripping of natural resources prevented the generation of the most precious commodity needed to live - air. Importing air was often the most expensive overhead for a large number of planets and the crippling taxes used to pay such adventurers as Gundersson and his crew further prevented migration from the ultimately doomed planets.

Each of the domes housed individual city states and they were all in competition with the others. Originally based on the cities that had grown naturally on the planet they had stripped their territorial resources and then begun to go down towards the planets core. The more successful cities still maintained substantial support columns whereas those that were overpopulated or negligent teetered on precariously thin supports.

These cities sometimes resorted to attempting to mine another cities support column, resulting in warfare and sabotage. As a result a number of the domes were now unpopulated and were slowly being stripped by their neighbours.

Each of the cities was dependant on food, weaponry and fresh oxygen to survive, and the Valkyrie 12 was in a seller’s market. The ship cut its drive as it entered the influence of one of the massive stations. After arranging a docking fee with the stations administrator the ship manoeuvred to a docking ring and latched on.

‘Lock the ship down. Distribute the prospectus for the Oxygen.’

Maddsson responded by sending a broadcast to all of the city administrators on the planet below as well as a number of agents for the other planets. Almost immediately offers came back from the cities of Trollheim offering to take the precious cargo away from them. 

‘Things must be grim down there,’ he commented, looking over the offers.

‘Anything of interest?’

‘The usual stuff. Gemstones, metals, even some grains of Orichalcum. One of them has even offered ten thousand volunteer slaves.’

‘Volunteer slaves,’ said Gundersson with a sigh, ‘more like people wishing to sell their souls to get off that hell hole.’

‘What do you wish to limit the auction to?’

‘Orichalcum by preference, then rare elements. Everything has to be paid in full before delivery, no testing the product. All the usual conditions.’

The space station’s orbit was low enough that they were circumnavigating the planet every three hours, flashing through zones of light and dark. Their auction was to last three standard days, and the crew used the opportunity to carry out maintenance and communicate with their families on this and other worlds.

The bids slowly escalated over the days, easily eclipsing the early bids. The planet below was soon priced out as wealthier states exercised their financial muscle.

The Valkyrie’s Chief Engineer Gerik Alfarsson eventually took the rare opportunity to leave his engine room and made his way to the bridge to join Gundersson. They stood quietly, idly watching the damaged planet pass below.

‘I thought you might have gone down,’ said Alfarsson.

There was a long pause.

‘Not this time. It’s too upsetting. Even after such a short period of time I can see the changes that have occurred.’

‘It’s probably for the best. I remember we almost had to fight our way out last time.’

‘Don’t remind me.’ Gundersson turned away as his home city cleared the horizon and began to slip beneath them.

‘Captain, less than ten minutes to the end of the auction. We have an unusual bid from Ogdoad. What would you like to do with it?’ The operations officer broke the sombre mood.

The two senior officers walked to his station and looked at the bid details.

‘Where in the sixteen spheres have they dug that up from?’ Alfarsson laughed.

‘I wouldn’t like to hazard a guess,’ replied Gundersson, ‘but they must be desperate for the Oxygen.’

The object of their incredulity was shown to them in a series of images and technical specifications.

‘It’s certainly a credible bid, but what in Woden’s name would we do with something that size?’

‘It would take us to that planet if we wanted to retire,’ commented Alfarsson absently as he looked at the technical specifications of the massive space ship the Ogdoad Grand Council were offering in payment for the Valkyrie’s cargo.

As they watched another bid came in from another planetary government.

‘Kukulcan, it’ll be Chabtans,’ said Larsson the Operations Officer with obvious venom.

‘The Rules of Auction are the Rules of Auction,’ stated Gundersson.

‘What do they need a cargo of Oxygen for? Their planet is self-sustaining.’

‘We all know that but they have the resources to outbid everybody else. And remember that Tem comes from Kukulcan. Besides, that bid will enable us all to take it easy for several years.’

Cuauhtémoc, Tem to the crew, was one of the Valkyrie’s gunners and was intensely proud of his heritage and home planet. He was a loner and kept to himself most of the time, but his skill with the ship’s defensive weaponry enabled the rest of the crew to see past his unusual ways and accept him.

Gundersson looked at the bid details and realised that it easily surpassed the bid from the Ogdoadans. He looked at the countdown for the auction and realised that, against his wishes, he would have to deliver the coveted cargo to the selfish Chabtan sect of Kukulcan.

The three officers stood for the final moments of the auction. As the time hit zero the communications panel chirped an incoming call.

‘Patch me in,’ ordered Gundersson, picking up the Operations Officer’s communication unit.

Markus Carlsberg made the connection and nodded at the captain.

‘This is Valkyrie Twe...’

‘This is Camulus,’ interrupted a harsh voice, ‘deliver the oxygen to space station Camulus Eight. Payment will be made on receipt.’ The communication was cut off.

Gundersson looked at the now dead communicator and handed it back to the officer.

‘Secure the ship; advise the station administrator we are undocking. Plot a course to Camulus Eight.’

Gundersson walked to his command seat and slumped into it. As the crew returned to their stations to prepare for take-off they avoided his brooding figure. Alfarsson almost started talking to him but decided against it and silently left the bridge to return to the engine room.

‘All stations reporting green,’ announced the navigator.

‘Take us out.’

CITY DOME OF BRIMIR - 30 August

Lendmen Gildar Sorensson steeled herself for the argument she was inevitably going to get involved in. The communication screen before her displayed the Clan Symbol of the Cotter Clan, the ruling class of Brimir. Beneath it was a blinking symbol for the Yngling Clan, the corresponding class that ruled the neighbouring city dome of Bergsbyn.

Gildar looked at the data sheets lying on the table before her. Touching the top sheet she moved it to one side. Both sheets were the personal report details of two individuals captured by the city’s security force.

With her eyes downcast she missed the screen clearing to be replaced by the face of her counterpart in Bergsbyn.

‘Lendmen Sorensson, what a pleasure to take your call.’

Gildar started imperceptibly, her years of public service covering her surprise. The face looking at her was scaled to the size of the screen, but she knew that the head was at least twice the size of her own. The baleful red glow lurking in the depths of his dark eyes also screamed out the fact that he was not human.

‘Lendmen Svaleson,’ she replied, raising her eyes as if she knew the titan was there but had been engrossed in the documents before her, ‘if only the subject was as pleasant.’

The face of the statesman fell in distress.

‘Oh dear, what seems to be the matter? The concerns of our neighbour are our concerns.’

Svaleson had many years of political experience but his insincerity was obvious to Gildar. She smiled, letting him know that she didn’t believe a word he was uttering.

‘The Brimir security forces have intercepted several individuals who were attempting to mine within the territory confirmed by treaty to belong to Brimir. These individuals were adamant that they not be captured alive.’

‘Such a shame they were not taken alive, otherwise they could have been asked questions as to who their sponsors were.’ Svaleson’s eyes flashed with a glint of success.

‘That is true. It is fortunate that their determination to die was surpassed by the skills of the security detachment. Two of the individuals were captured in a remarkable healthy state.’

Gildar noticed the titan glance briefly to one side of the camera’s field of view. It was a fair assumption that he was not alone.

‘Congratulations on your success,’ the titan conceded, ‘what information have you discovered?’

‘The names of their sponsor,’ she stated simply, ‘who I understand you are intimately knowledgeable of.’

The titan looked back at her, his mouth tightening in restrained anger.

‘Who do they accuse?’

‘None other than your good self.’

‘They lie. Bergsbyn would never condone breaking treaty and entering the territory of another state.’

‘That is not what I am saying,’ replied Gildar, ‘Bergsbyn had nothing to do with their expedition. They have stated before magistrates that they are off world contractors, mercenaries in fact, who have been employed by you to mine a seam of Orichalcum. Being from off world they do not understand the political climate here on Asgard.

‘I will have no option but to take this up with the Ruling Council, we...’

The screen she was talking to went black.

Gildar turned away to look at her assistant.

‘Patch me through to the Council. We might as well get a case started against him.’

The assistant began tapping at the control panel before her to open a communication channel to the city dome several thousand kilometres away on the far side of Asgard.

The other two people in the room moved from their positions to the side of the desk to stand beside her.

‘It’s nothing less than we expected of him,’ stated the taller of the two as he touched her elbow in sympathy.

Gildar smiled at her partner of over twenty years.

‘At least we were able to capture the brigands before they were able to start any mining.’

‘I’m not overly worried about small scale thefts. It’s state sponsored boundary incursions that worry me. After all, it’s well known but unproven that Bergsbyn had been illegally mining beneath Hindegaarde before their column fractured.’

The loss of the city dome of Hindegaarde had shaken the top levels of the Asgardian cities governments when the theoretically robust support column for the city had sheared away several years ago, plunging several hundred thousand people to their deaths.

It had caused earth tremors to be felt around the world, causing untold damages in several other cities. The event had led to expensive countermeasures being forced through to ensure such an event could never happen again. Massive antigravity pulse engines were installed at massive cost to each of the remaining city dome so that in the event of a column collapsing the mushroom like dome would be ejected into space.

The lingering deaths of the inhabitants of such a city rather than the brief crushing concussion of crashing to the core were considered a suitable trade-off for sparing the earthquakes experienced by the other cities in the aftermath.

Bergsbyn had attempted to gain sovereignty over the remains of the Hindegaarde territory but the rest of the cities, without proof of their complicity, ceded the lands to Brimir. The choice had been a hard knock for the city’s administrator and he had attempted to buy the remains of the column and the surrounding lands from his own personal wealth.

Gildar and her fellow administrators had rejected the offer, deeming the resources available in the stack would support Brimir and enable many of its citizens to emigrate. They had just made the remains of the stack safe and would be initiating mining when the intruders had been detected.

From their vantage point in one of the highest buildings of Brimir she could see the remains of the column