Ragnarok! (FT, Open)

[The Norse Clans]

On board the Odin
The fleet had been in rout now for three days, after a crushing defeat in the Holmgard System it had been all that Jarl Hayden could do to hold what was left of the ships under his command together; Erik's fleet had scattered to the void when the Thor had been destroyed and Hayden was determined that his Clan-Fleet would not end the same way. But gods damn it, the Thor! The flagship of King Hrokki's entire military, it was a one of a kind and supposed to be indestructible yet somehow... somehow their foe had left it little more than a blasted hulk. The moment that the transmission went out of the Thor's destruction Jarl Ulfr turned his ships around and fled; Jarl Erik died soon after when the Freyja was struck and his fleet jumped in all directions soon after like rats abandoning the ship - it was a damn shame, Erik had been one of the bravest and truest Nords to ever command a Clan-Fleet and the cowardice of his clansmen did him a disservice, shaming him in death. At least Jarl Brandt had stayed until the end, sacrificing his fleet so that the others could escape, there could have been no truer Nord than he in that battle. If he survived Hayden would ensure that the skalds sang songs of his great deeds, and Erik's too, they deserved that much at least.

Right now though it seemed unlikely that there would be any Nords left to sing alongside them, to remember them in the sagas of future generations and so assure their place in the golden halls of their forefathers among the gods themselves. Hayden had seen at least half of all of King Hrokki's Clan-Fleets destroyed at Holmgard; the Clans of the North Star had arrayed themselves at full strength against the invading force and they had lost, though not without a fight, but as soon as Hrokki and the Thor were lost the end was inevitable. With no King to unite them and no flagship to lead the defence the remaining Clans had lost heart and fled; Hayden cursed himself that he was among them, but there was nothing he could have done, his Clan had fallen from favour with the king so the fleet had been held back in reserve. By the time they had been called upon the fight the Thor was on its last legs and King Hrokki's second Jarl Brandt had ordered the retreat. The whole battle had left them kingless, most of the Jarls were dead and few were left with their ships unscathed; even Hayden's Clan-Fleet was limping, he had almost refused to accept Brandt's order but he had too much respect for the man's honour to disobey him at the end.

Holmgard was lost, first it had been the outlying Ytregard system but that had barely been noticed, so few of the Norse colonists had escaped alive to report what had happened; then a vast fleet had appeared over Valorgard, laid waste to every settlement and destroyed Jarl Furlen's Clan-Fleet in the process. The King had then called a Monstring to Holmgard, to directly intercept the oncoming enemy. Holmgard was one of the kingdom's core systems and they could not afford to lose it so easily; Hrokki had been a fool though, he had underestimated the strength of the threat and had engaged before all of the Clans were ready; most had arrived without sufficient ammunition and without a clear plan of battle and most had been lost as a result. Now the only core system left belonging to the Clans of the North Star was Hjemgard, the birthplace of their people; their fleets were separated and broken and they lacked the materiel to arm an Utskrevet, besides which with both the king and his second dead there was the question of who actually ruled over the clans; Hrokki had been young and lacked an heir and every remaining clan had as much claim to the throne as the next.

Hayden's options were so limited; he probably commanded the strongest remaining Clan-Fleet, and the least damaged, but with his honour in question thanks to his lack of involvement in the battle for Holmgard no other Jarl would willingly submit to his leadership. With the way things were he couldn't afford to accept their leadership either, the ones he knew to have escaped were too inexperienced, too cowardly, too depleted or too foolish to be made king. Damn this situation and damn Hrokki for the fool he was, the Norse Clans were all but dead and if the example of Ytregard and Valorgard were anything to go by then Holmgard would have been reduced to a series of lifeless rocks by now and with nothing to show for it.

"Jarl Hayden, we're picking up a transmission from Lady Erica; she survived the battle but her flagship the Heimdallr is crippled from the jump out of the battle and much of her fleet requires urgent assistance." His adjutant broke his train of thought, though not entirely to his displeasure; the whole situation was grim and in truth he needed something positive to raise his spirits and reinvigorate him. "Your orders my Jarl?".
"How far out are they? What is their situation?" The reply was prompt as Hayden flicked his mind onto the matter in hand; he and Lady Erica had been sweethearts in their youth, but her father had wanted for male heirs and would not allow his clan to be absorbed by such a marriage. In the end he had died leaving his daughters unmarried.
"They were en route to Hjemgard, hoping to repair and resupply there but it seems that they are unable to make the rest of the trip." His adjutant Herre Junge clicked to attention as his Jarl turned to face him, the young man was a little too formal and ordered for the more conservative Jarl in his furs and leather but he was an excellent officer nonetheless, "Our own long range scanners confirm this, they have had to power down their weapons in order to maintain lifesupport and their generators are rapidly losing power output. It seems they were hit hard just after the Thor went down." Not surprising either in Hayden's mind; Hrokki had been something of a philanderer and had been trying to court Erica's interest since she had succeeded her father and he had put her own Clan-Fleet beside his own Kings-Fleet; if anything it was amazing they had gotten this far.
"Very well, alter course and prepare to receive wounded... and send out a long range distress signal. We're going to need assistance and right now I don't much care where from."

[Promethius Prime]

AIS-P Königsfalke, Syèl Mato Class Command Carrier
"Ave, Uberflottekommandeur Heinkel. The report you requested on the latest engagement is ready for your review." Marineunterkommandant Shroeder clicked his heels as he offered the Uberflottekommandeur a formal salute; the holo-paper report held in a neat, pristine leather bound dossier which he passed to Heinkel with all due efficiency. "Unterflottechef Jodl reports modest losses and light damage to craft in his division as a result of the flanking manoeuvre however his assessment of the damage to the enemy, which seems to be supported by our AI's own tactical analysis, is that we inflicted heavy losses and substantial damage to that section of the fleet. Unterflottechef Kramer supports this assessment, claiming slight damage with minimal losses and a complete rout of those enemy craft left capable. Befehlskapitän Sturn is still assessing the damage sustained by the Stahlschwert, however as expected his damage assessment on the target is complete annihilation."

"Sehr gut. Unterflottekommandeur; give the Befehlskapitän my congratulations on a job well done and pass a general memorandum to all ships commending them on an exceptional effort." Heinkel turned and he too came to attention, returning Shroeder's salute as he took the dossier from his adjutant. The battle had been brutal, the savages had surprised him with their bravery and numbers but ultimately the Arcadian 4th Promethiun Fleet had prevailed and with only modest casualties by all accounts. He could have expected no better outcome and was satisfied with the whole situation; they were now poised to begin bombardment of the planets below them in advance of a ground invasion. High Command had identified these planets as a high priority, for on them could be found raw materials vital to their continued survival; the extermination of a few savages like these was but a small price to play for the greater glory of the Reich. "Have 4, 7 and 9 Divisions fan out and provide a picket I want 2 Division and the Stahlschwert on bombardment duty, standard targeting and rules for engagement. 3 and 5 Division will be carrying out the landings. Also have R Division start carrying out repairs, priority on the carriers and work their way down from there. Understood?"

"Understood Herr Uberflottekommandeur!" Shroeder came to attention once more and saluted, the audioreceptors in his sub-dermal neural-interceptors already processing and dispatching the relevant orders as he turned away and returned to his place and the command station; it was odd that 1 Division were not participating in the operation at this point, but no doubt Heinkel had some clear reason why this should be the case. He made a note in his mnemonic recorder to follow p on that later for his own interest; after all if there was some strategic lesson to be learned here he did not want to miss out.

---

AIS-P Stahlschwert
Bombardment order Herr Uberartillerieoffizier! The comm-relay technician swiveled in his seat and passed the datasheet over Unterartillerieoffizier Machen, who took the thin sheet of mnemoholographic plastic and started reading, the ocular interface making sense of the maddening data patterns as he scanned it over. The orders were simple enough, identify and then bombard any and all planetside settlements, structures and fortifications, maximum effect, zero prejudice; standard bombardment order for a target like this. The schwein on the surface probably wouldn't even realise what was happening until they were already highly charged vapour, as for the local architecture, well nobody would be admiring that any more, if they ever did to begin with. Machen passed the order to his unteroffizier and then started bellowing orders to the artillerygruppe before unbuttoning his pale blue double breasted uniform jacket, it would be getting very hot in here very soon.

As Machen roared his orders along with some colourful 'motivational' words and phrases the men and women of the group jumped into activity, most were already stripped down to their boots, combats and vests since even with the advanced climate control the orbital bombardment gunnery deck always got exceptionally hot when if full operation. Machen's unteroffizier was already walking along the central catwalk with her neural prod out in her hand shouting 'encouragement' and the 'maggots' below and generally maintaining order. She was one hot piece of ass, especially when she was roaring out orders at the top of her lungs, but Machen knew better than to entertain that notion; she was a navy woman through and through, professional, efficient and utterly ruthless - damn fine unteroffizier as a result. She too had pulled off her jacket, her rank plate which hung over her collarbone all that marked her for what she was as she fired the occasional blast from the neural prod at some unfortunate sod below who wasn't working fast enough.

Hundreds of conscripted men were now straining and heaving to prep the gun for firing; keeping M72 Glenmarc OBMs pounding on a target for any length of time was exhausting but unimaginative and simple work; any gang of idiots could load and fire one, but it took real skill to organise those gangs and properly target the weapons for maximum efficiency. That was why Machen and his unteroffizier Magda were here, both had risen from those sweating heaving masses down below, both knew what it was like, both knew what it took and why the grunts deserved no mercy when it came to the lash; more than a few mutiny attempts had started down in the gunnery decks over the years and every one had been brutally and ruthlessly suppressed by Machen and his team. That was why he was in charge down here, on the pride of Uberflottekommandeur Heinkel's fleet that and he produced a damned impressive orbital bombardment.

[The Tarantara Dominion]

T.D.S. Vipera
Tarantaran Space, The Outer Territories
Yellow Alert, The Distress Signal



The first of its kind - or at least the first one known to the Tarantarans - the T.D.S Vipera quite literally slithered through the veil of stars propelled by an unseen form of propulsion who's entropy could be seen like a curtain adhearing to the vessel's scaled hull. Joints that allowed it to twist, coil and contort like no other vessel or unnatural automaton made before emphasised on the fact that Cylons had perfected their biomechanical technology on a large scale and from this technology was borne unto the Universe a hissing creature of sorts. Gargantuan and eerily beautiful, the heavily armed and absolutely monolithic ten thousand meter large ship and the cobra's hood that adorned its sides had been a collaberation between the ever close-nit United Cylon Colonies and the Tarantaran Dominion in an attempt to create the most "perfect" vessel ever created by either of the two. The perfect vessel would have been able to separate into more, smaller vessels with a Multi-Vector Separation Mode, be heavily armed and equipped with what made it necessary for the ship to fill multiple roles. The roles spoken of prior for this supposedly perfect yet odd vessel included recon, surveillance, orbital bombardment, the capability to target smaller, faster ships at close ranges, deploy fighter, the Neutron and and engage other ships at longer ranges.

Commanding the massive vessel was the lone, powerfully stoic gaze and flowing, liquid silver voice of Alice Adechi a Tarantaran-Human hybrid with an Italian-Japanese descent and an absolutely potent set of empathic abilities. Of course, she was only born because the Tarantarans had incorporated several human colonies into their own territory and, finding them amusing and "tolerable" interbreeding occured. This was the lithe, thin woman's first time commanding a vessel such as this, obviously, but nonetheless she had already gotten used to the role and intended to make full use of it by bossing the hell out of every single person onboard. The thought brought a small smile to her lips in slight amusement, then she sighed heavily as something hit her like a wave bombarding the coast of an ocean and bringing down several tons of rock with it before dragging it down to the bottom of the deep blue seven seas.

Furrowed eyes and a quirking head of red hair - [i]I know, my life is a cliche, I'm named Alice and I'm a perky, violent redhead that's possibly a sociopath but life is full of wonders... 'cuz, you know, my ship is a freaking snake in outer space. - meant she was accessing memory files, when said quirk changed direction it meant she was imagining what it could possibly be. Whatever it was, it felt awful in the sense that, for an empath, it felt like complete and utter misery, even low-tier empaths could feel this strongly... it was horrible. Though she did not need to know that something was coming from her commander or that lieutenant at the communications console on the Primary Bridge she sat at the core of, Alice knew it was simply protocol that made them speak the words required. Mechanical, yet beautiful, the voice of a young, vocally impaired raven-haired male that appeared to be around sixteen years old spoke up to alert his captain to a situation developing slightly outside of Tarantaran territory.

Looking over to him as he began to speak, her deep brown eyes became set with his unusually mature eyes, eyes more mature than that of most humans males but that would be because of the rate at which Tarantarans developed. That isn't to say he wasn't a complete idiot but you know how things go... teenagers are iffy business and, of course, Tarantarans were held to a higher standard so it was okay most of the time.

"We are supposed to expand into this territory, ma'am, I recommend we protect its resources at all costs and assimilate the weakening race within so that we may expand upon their technological developments." He blushed slightly at her amused smirk, then glared at the commander after he spoke.

"You are out of line, child, quiet your tongue." The commander said

"That may be and he may be, but it is obvious that he is correct so it is you who should quiet your tongue. I have no room for aggressiveness, territorial personalities and blatant idiocy onboard my ship so I suggest you calm yourself. You were awarded the position as an admiral's commander for a reason, I hope you realize that I can easily take away said position even without one." Her voice was calm, not cutting, forceful or anything else, just calm, normal yet still beautiful.

"Target the coordinates they sent us, initiate jump, this "Lady Erica" and whatever the heck a "Jarl" is need our help, let us give it to them.

Engage."

A few moments later the massive ship that would most certainly be alien to likely every civilization in the universe, almost monstrous in fact, jumped like an electron through space before appearing at the target location nigh-instantaneously. Of course, since they hadn't yet incorporated stealth systems they could be sure that they wouldn't stay hidden for long, so they prepared their weapons for any hostility.

"This is the T.D.S. Vipera of the Tarantara Dominion, I am Head Admiral Alice Adechi of the Exploratory Corps. We are here to aid you, please do not be alarmed by the sight of our ship... it is quite the Jormungandr."

[The Norse Clans]

Welcome aboard and thanks for joining in.

The Odin
"Lady Erica, I am relieved to see you made it unharmed!" Hayden embrace Erica as she stepped onto the bridge of the Odin; Erica's ship the Heimdallr was in a hell of a state, by the time the Odin had reached and docked with it the primary generators had given out leaving the once proud ship listing heavily on the port side; its guns, still arrayed for battle were eerily dark, having been powered down to siphon power into life support systems. It was amazing that it had held together, a testament to the craftsmanship of her clan and one that Hayden was thankful for. "As Jarl of Clan Hvitstein I offer you hospitality and safe succour for as long as you and your clan require it."

"Rasch Hayden! You always were one for ceremony, but I suppose under the solemn circumstances we need to keep to traditions alive. As Jarl of Clan Elvkjore I accept your offer of hospitality and succour; I place myself at your mercy." Erica was just as Hayden remembered her, stern and formidable with those frightening yet beautiful blue eyes and almost silvery blonde hair. Not what most people would consider a great beauty but she had an entirely confident appearance, as though she had been sculpted by the gods for just that purpose; she was one of the more traditionalist Jarls of the North Star clans like Hayden and still wore the old fashioned furs and leather with ringmesh armour underneath. As part of the formality she drew her broadsword and placed it on the ground in front of Hayden. "So, this is the Odin; I always wondered why your grandfather had been allowed to give it such a powerful name but now I see why; but alas we have no time to waste on such small talk. Rasch I trust you more than any man alive and with most of my Clan-Fleet destroyed and the rest of my clan probably dead in Holmgard I am placing what's left of my strength at your command. We can't surrender and we can't flee and your the only man I know who might have a chance of pulling us through this alive."

"Erica." Hayden looked at the deck to their left for a moment as she placed the blade before him and then he turned back and nodded. Her fleet was in tatters, his own poorly prepared; if they salvaged what parts and materiel they could from Erica's crippled fleet then they would be more or less at optimal strength for another engagement, but he doubted that it would be enough to stem the tide of invasion and besides this they still didn't know who or what had attacked them. The enemy craft looked human in origin but there was simply no way to tell for certain; all he'd been able to discern himself was that the craft all bore the same brand, pale blue, white and gold - the same pale blue used in the royal colours of the North Star - yet the sigil imposed over it was like nothing he'd ever seen or heard of. "All right, let's start repairing that which can be repaired and salvaging what can't. I suspect we have a long struggle ahead of us and there's no sense abandoning what we can still use."

As he finished his adjutant Herre Junge bobbed his head and passed over a datapad with a direct uplink to the Odin's comms array.

"We just received the below transcribed communication on a standard hailing frequency; our systems took a while identifying the language used but the managed it and we should be able to respond and make ourselves understood. I've never heard of the ship in question nor this Head Admiral and believe me when I say this that I don't think you will have either. She called it a Jormungandr, the only word that we recognised at first." Hayden took the pad and read the transcript of the message before turning to Erica, she nodded to him as if to indicate that he was free to respond as he wished and he took the stylus and keyed in a response to be broadcast via the translation AI.

This is the Odin, Holdship of Clan Hvitstein, formerly of the Kingdom of the North Star Clans. I am Jarl Hayden, kommandor of this ship and the attached fleet. What is your purpose here?

[The Tarantara Dominion]

Welcome aboard and thanks for joining in.

The Odin
"Lady Erica, I am relieved to see you made it unharmed!" Hayden embrace Erica as she stepped onto the bridge of the Odin; Erica's ship the Heimdallr was in a hell of a state, by the time the Odin had reached and docked with it the primary generators had given out leaving the once proud ship listing heavily on the port side; its guns, still arrayed for battle were eerily dark, having been powered down to siphon power into life support systems. It was amazing that it had held together, a testament to the craftsmanship of her clan and one that Hayden was thankful for. "As Jarl of Clan Hvitstein I offer you hospitality and safe succour for as long as you and your clan require it."

"Rasch Hayden! You always were one for ceremony, but I suppose under the solemn circumstances we need to keep to traditions alive. As Jarl of Clan Elvkjore I accept your offer of hospitality and succour; I place myself at your mercy." Erica was just as Hayden remembered her, stern and formidable with those frightening yet beautiful blue eyes and almost silvery blonde hair. Not what most people would consider a great beauty but she had an entirely confident appearance, as though she had been sculpted by the gods for just that purpose; she was one of the more traditionalist Jarls of the North Star clans like Hayden and still wore the old fashioned furs and leather with ringmesh armour underneath. As part of the formality she drew her broadsword and placed it on the ground in front of Hayden. "So, this is the Odin; I always wondered why your grandfather had been allowed to give it such a powerful name but now I see why; but alas we have no time to waste on such small talk. Rasch I trust you more than any man alive and with most of my Clan-Fleet destroyed and the rest of my clan probably dead in Holmgard I am placing what's left of my strength at your command. We can't surrender and we can't flee and your the only man I know who might have a chance of pulling us through this alive."

"Erica." Hayden looked at the deck to their left for a moment as she placed the blade before him and then he turned back and nodded. Her fleet was in tatters, his own poorly prepared; if they salvaged what parts and materiel they could from Erica's crippled fleet then they would be more or less at optimal strength for another engagement, but he doubted that it would be enough to stem the tide of invasion and besides this they still didn't know who or what had attacked them. The enemy craft looked human in origin but there was simply no way to tell for certain; all he'd been able to discern himself was that the craft all bore the same brand, pale blue, white and gold - the same pale blue used in the royal colours of the North Star - yet the sigil imposed over it was like nothing he'd ever seen or heard of. "All right, let's start repairing that which can be repaired and salvaging what can't. I suspect we have a long struggle ahead of us and there's no sense abandoning what we can still use."

As he finished his adjutant Herre Junge bobbed his head and passed over a datapad with a direct uplink to the Odin's comms array.

"We just received the below transcribed communication on a standard hailing frequency; our systems took a while identifying the language used but the managed it and we should be able to respond and make ourselves understood. I've never heard of the ship in question nor this Head Admiral and believe me when I say this that I don't think you will have either. She called it a Jormungandr, the only word that we recognised at first." Hayden took the pad and read the transcript of the message before turning to Erica, she nodded to him as if to indicate that he was free to respond as he wished and he took the stylus and keyed in a response to be broadcast via the translation AI.

This is the Odin, Holdship of Clan Hvitstein, formerly of the Kingdom of the North Star Clans. I am Jarl Hayden, kommandor of this ship and the attached fleet. What is your purpose here?

I thought they would at least think it odd to see something slithering like a snake through space... literally. But guess not.



Anyways, thanks!

What a sore sight the other ship was indeed, it looked, well, for lack of a better word so awful it was as if the serpent that was the Vipera had took quite a good bite out of it in about a million different places. Now, if only they looked out their view screen as the Vipera quite literally slithered around the ship, carefully avoiding any debris or larger than average asteroids that or may not have hit the ship. Each part lurched individually like an intelligence, an instinct, was behind the movements and indeed an instinct was behind one, that instinct and overwhelming intelligence was known as A.L.I.C.E. the sentient artificial intelligence that controlled the ship and managed many aspects, as well as communicated with the crew. Heck, they even had their own body which acted as a vessel and a way to save any knowledge the ship had if the Vipera were to be destroyed since they could get out in an escape pod.

The head admiral's face would pop up on their view screen, and before them her well-sculpted features were highlighted with slit pupils as if she were some sort of feline and a fanged smile that seemed to have secrets though it was still gentle and kind.

"I thought you already knew why we were here as you sent out a distress call and we arrived saying we were here to assist you. Repairs will initiate in a few moments, we must modify our repair drones to recreate the material used in your hull. Repairs will not take less than an hour seeing as how we're in a ten thousand meter large multi-generation ship and they're not. It would be a waste to leave the hull here, I understand my human bretheren are not that advanced aside from a few differences between them but truly I had hoped that you were at least slightly more advanced... but I suppose not all Spartans need to be advanced to be efficient warriors, nevertheless both Greece and Rome still fell in a day.

[Promethius Prime]

NW-8 (Formerly Holmgard I), System 13 (Formerly Holmgard System)
Unterfeldwebel B63 pushed aside a scrap of metal with his boot which cause dust and ash to be kicked up as his armoured boot scuffed against the dry, hardpacked dirt that now made up most of this planet's surface. Underneath it was a badly burnt forearm and hand, sticking out of the ground, probably still attached to some buried corpse down below; pointless questioning it now, whoever this had been they were dead now, their blackened forearm the only thing left above ground to tell that they had ever been here. It had been the same story all day; broken doors and sheets of metal pushed aside to reveal half buried corpses which had been incinerated by the heat of the orbital bombardment - there had been a few survivors here and there, but not many, and none capable of putting up any solid resistance. They weren't even worth anything as slaves these people; those who were still able to savagely attacked upon spotting the armoured Arcadian troopers and those who weren't just lay in their hiding places, cowering as the teams passed through and exterminated them one by one. Pitiful, these savages seemed so proud and self confident, but at the end of the day they were weak, poorly prepared for the horrors that had been unleashed upon them by the Arcadian war machine; they might have thought themselves strong but they lacked any sort of strategy or higher thought, just as was to be expected from an inferior offshot of the human race like this.

So far today B63 had expended precisely 47 rounds of ammunition, 42 of which had landed on target; he'd been counting in his head as he went, pretty much the only thing he could do to keep him from boredom. Today he'd gotten 28 confirmed kills, only five of those had tried to fight back and only one had managed to land a hit, leaving a gouge in his right shoulder plate where the projectile had struck him; he'd been fortunate, if the shot had been a little lower it might have ruptured the joint, disabling his arm and maybe even breaking the skin beneath, but his Unterstützungschützen had been providing suppressing fire at the time and the savage's shots had gone wide. So in all, of the 47 rounds he'd fired he considered all but three to have been wasted, those three had struck the savage that had left the gouge in his armour, two in the chest and one in the neck, he hadn't gotten back up. If it weren't for orders and standard post bombardment protocol he'd not have been using his rifle at all, he could have saved himself the use of 44 rounds - but never mind, at least he wasn't wounded.

B63's squad were fanned out over a thirty meter wide line doing a standard patrol sweep of the area; it had been half an hour since they'd last found anyone alive, but they were coming up on the blasted out wreckage of what looked like a defence bunker; it was hard to tell since these savages had a strange idea of what constituted a fortified position, plus it had taken what looked like a direct hit from one of the Glenmarcs so there were some pretty big chunks missing. He switched on the tactical assessor array in his helmet and engaged the analytics to see what it was made of; local redrock dust liquirock reinforced with bondalloy bars, large rusted steel sheets for outer supplementary armour, standard design. Just like the rest then; primitive, though not wholly obsolete - he'd heard C-74 squad about two klicks over engaging some survivors in a structure like this over the tac-net and the walls held up well under the light bombardment until the squad had stormed the place; plus the fact that it was still standing at all had to be to its credit, not much had survived the orbital bombardment but these buildings had, more or less.

When they came within 30 meters B63 raised his hand and halted his squad, ordering them to take a low profile and move up towards the cover of a blasted out trench or ditch of some kind that lay just ahead. Once they were all in cover B63 turned to Kaderaufklärer B67 and motioned for her to activate her advanced tac-scanner and do a quick scan of the structure for hostiles; the whole process took maybe five minutes before she confirmed over the squad tac-net that there were indeed lifesigns and weapons signatures within the structure; B63 switched of his analytics and engaged the tactical interface so he could see what B67 had seen. It looked like the defenders were prepared for a fight, but were waiting for his squad to move in before opening up with a machinegun of some kind; perhaps this lot would be something of a challenge. With a quick neural alert to his two Grenadiers over the squad tac-interface he set out the plan of attack; first of all the Unterstützungschützen would open up with his machinegun, to provide covering fire and a distraction for the Grenadiers, who would advance along the right flank until they were directly under the outer wall. Then Kaderaufklärer B67 and the squads Scharfschütze would start taking aimed shots at anyone who poked their head up over the parapet with their first priority being the elimination of the enemy machinegunners. Once that was done the Grenadiers would use their grenade launchers to blast the outer parapet, providing the necessary cover while the rest of the squad moved up. After that it was just a case of entering the structure and clearing it out.

[The Norse Clans]

The Odin
"I don't like this Rasch, these people, whoever they are, have us surrounded - utterly at their mercy. How do we know that their intentions are as salubrious as they claim? I mean look at their ship, listen to how they describe it... this bodes ill and I don't like it at all." Erica and Hayden had retreated to Hayden's private chambers, deep within the Odin; under normal circumstances such an act might have been met with salacious rumour and gossip, but with things as they were there was scarce time for such frivolities. It made sense that the two Jarls meet privately to discuss their situation and if there was any place that they might call safe it was there in the Odin's armoured heart. "I'm think on it, if they wanted to they could destroy us, swallow us whole... it feels like we already have been."

"That may be so, and I share your anxiety but I don't see what we can do about it right now; this Jormungandr of theirs already has us in its grip and we can do nothing about it - I somehow doubt that our remaining batteries could blast us a way out and if they could what then? We'd still have a half crippled fleet and a new enemy right on our tails into the bargain." Hayden was sat across from Erica on a low cushioned chair and between them on a low table lay a modest spread of mead and cooked meats with a fine woven cloth beneath them; the chamber itself was also quite modest by the standards of a Norse Jarl, hung not with great tapestries, but rather with the simply coloured banners of the Jarl and his bannermen. "All we can do right now is pray that their intentions are salubrious, and that they aren't here to force us into a corner. I'll start by inviting them aboard the Odin, then we can talk with them face to face and find out exactly what they want with us in return for their aid."

"Please send a delegate aboard my flagship so we can speak face to face. You have our word that no foul play will be involved."