Editing Story:ROAD TRIP! (Warhammer High)/Part Four (section)

==Fenris Greets its Daughter==

===He Who is the Ancient===


Only few hours later, Alex was leaning back in bed, reading before turning in, when Freya’s slate beeped.  In an instant she had vaulted out of bed and landed beside the slate on its table, eagerly reading it over.  As Alex pushed sheets and blankets out of his eyes, he watched as his girlfriend’s hair twitched from side to side.  She was so engrossed in the message that she wasn’t even moving her eyes.  Alex waited.

“FUCK YEAH!” Freya suddenly yelled, and leaped nearly the whole distance from the table into the bed.  “I was hoping he’d be there!” she said, shoving the slate in Alex’s face.

He blinked, leaning back from it.  “Why don’t you read it to me, baby, I can’t read Juvjk.”

“Oh, durr.”  She held it up and eagerly read aloud.  “‘Freya, my little lass, who would your father leave in charge other than me?  We’re looking forward to welcoming you home, dear girl, and this boy toy you’ve been playing with,’” she said, as Alex paled.  “I think he was kidding.  Anyway: ‘I know you wished for this to be a getaway, but with the Sons of Vulkan and Sons of Russ both being mobilized to fight the green scum, the Fang will be quite busy.  We’d be honored if you took the time to come down to us and speak of your life since you left the pack, naturally, but of course your companions would have to undergo decontamination before leaving, given the state of things.’  That’s fair, plagues on Fenris are horrifying.”

She sat down next to him, following the message’s words with her finger to show him her progress.  “‘Little pup, I know you’re eager to see home, and I imagine if your friends are truly on a voyage of luxury, seeing us in our most sacred rituals is not on the itinerary.  Would you like to come ahead on a Blizzard and carry out your duties before they arrive so that you can do as you will with them when they get here?’”

“The hell is a Blizzard?” Alex asked, baffled.

“Local variant Stormbird with the rocket pods ripped out and extra engines on it.”  She read on.  “Not much more.  ‘Whether you do or not, little pup, your brothers await you.  Eternally your servant, Bjorn the Ageless.’”

“Holy shit, isn’t he one of the Great Ninety?” Alex asked.

“Yep.  One of the ninety Terran Space Marines to live out the entire Crusade, out of the quarter million who started.”  Freya clicked the message away with a happy smile.  “He’s my father’s oldest, dearest friend outside of his blood relatives.”

“Very cool.  Are you sure his thing about boy toys was a joke?” Alex asked.

“Who knows?  But I suspect that if Bjorn is running the show, you’ll be just fine.  He might even offer to take you on one of his hunting expeditions to the equatorial jungles,” Freya said.

“Will I survive it?” Alex nervously asked.

“You probably won’t even set foot out of a transport.  You’ll see, you won’t have to do anything.”  She grinned as she opened the transcriptor.
“Elder Bjorn, warrior of the Rout, I would be overjoyed to come back home in a Blizzard.  Dispatch one that I may come back, if you could.  I will need my formal dress, which I brought from home, so I will simply bring it with me.  Sincerely, Princess Freya.”  She tapped the key and sent it.

“Little Pup?” Alex asked with a smile.

She turned wide green eyes on him.  “Bjorn’s nearly four thousand fucking years old, he can call me whatever he wants.”  Her eyes narrowed.  “You, however…” she said.

Alex reached over and gently ran his fingers over the helixes of her ears.  She twitched and giggled.  “Quit it.”

“Nope.”  Alex leaned over and whispered.  “I won’t tell anyone, don’t worry.”

“You better not…”  Her words trailed off with a sharp rise in inflection as he tickled her ears again.  She bit her lip and pulled away, trying to hold back another giggle.  “If you do that in front of the Brothers, I swear I’ll break your wrists,” she said, rasping a bit.

He wiggled his fingers menacingly and grabbed her shoulders.  She shrieked and tried to flee, but ‘stumbled.’  His hands traveled down her sides to her ribs and resumed tickling, until she grabbed his hands and forced them away, panting.

“All right, all right, that’s enough,” she gasped.

Alex sat back on crossed legs, looking smug.  She glared up at him with all the force she could muster, which wasn’t much.  She scrambled up and brushed herself off, still mumbling about his unjustified assault.  “I’ll go get ready for the flight.”

“Sure.  And let me know if he’s being serious about that whole boy toy thing,” Alex called after her.

Bjorn the Eldest stood fast as Freya emerged from her transport, already clad in her formal trappings.  She hadn’t felt the need to wear them on Nocturne, as much as she would have liked to, but here?  She was among kin.

The truly ancient Marine watched with lidded eyes as Freya paused a few paces from him.  She went still, her eyes searching his face.  He did the same, then slowly bent forward a fraction and inhaled deeply.  Everything he needed to know came to him in an instant.  Freya calmed the nerves she always felt when returning home; then she asked why she was bothering.  He could tell.

With great reverence, she fell to her knees, then clasped her hands over her waist and bowed her head, still silent.  Bjorn reached down to touch her shoulder once, running his hand under her chin to raise her head.  She looked up at him, eyes brimming.

He finally offered her a faint grin.  “Rise, little pup.  Your brothers await.”

She rose and wrapped her arms around his arm, grinning into the blue ceramite.  “I’ve missed you, you crotchety old fart.”

“Show some respect, little pup, or I’ll kick you from here to the Wylds,” Bjorn said sternly.

“Bah, you couldn’t even catch me now!” Freya said dismissively.

“Probably not, no,” he said.  He turned to gesture broadly down the corridor behind them as the Blizzard settled into its cradle with a clicking of cooling engines.  “Now, would you prefer to speak with the Lords first, or address your kin?”

“If I’m wearing the bloody thing, I may as well use it,” Freya said, fingering the rich furs of her formal outfit.  The simple-looking garment of pelts, leather, and hand-spun cloth folded over her body like a wrap, but was held together at the waist and collar with broad and beautifully carved stone clasps.  The dark brown calfboots she wore ended far below the soft leather skirt shorts she was wearing over them, but the details of both were obscured.  She was wearing her own personal favorite part of the assemblage over them.  It was a floor-length deep grey cowl, lined with white wolf furs, and with a pair of small silver totems of the moon dangling on the ends of draw-strings.  With a tug, she could close the hood over her face, pull the cloak around herself, and become an anonymous Fenrisian woman in an instant.  She wondered if her father was aware of how much she appreciated that touch.

“Then so be it, little pup,” Bjorn said.  He turned down the corridor and started off towards the chamber where the other senior members of the Rout awaited.

“You know, you don’t have to call me that anymore,” Freya said in Juvjk.  “I’m a pup no longer.”

“Such openness,” Bjorn noted.

Freya blushed.  “I mean that I have finished the mandatory part of my schooling.”

“Ah, but you invite more?” Bjorn asked.

Freya shrugged.  “I want more.  A poor student is the one that stops learning.”

“Wise lass.”  Bjorn paused, partway down the corridor, and eyed the girl carefully.  “When do you intend to take up your role?”

“I honestly do not know,” Freya confessed uncomfortably.  “Will I not choose?”

“You will.”  He resumed his course, as intractable in his Terminator armor as a glacier on its migration.  “Are you ready?”

“As much as I can be, Bjorn,” Freya said.

The hatch swung open.  A wide circle of thick metal chairs surrounded a depressed holotank, over which a transparent mesh was extended.  The tank was powered down, but when it was lit, Freya knew, the Lords of the Rout could stare down into its depths and see entire sectors stretch out below them.
She walked, fearless, her head held high, over to the edge of the mesh, pausing for her lords to acknowledge her.  The circle of Wolves – some in the trappings of Rune Priests, others clad in burnished battle armor, others yet in the elaborate accoutrements of the Iron Priests – were deep in discussion about something.  As soon as she came within range of their senses, however, all of them paused.  They went silent as she came to a halt at the edge, each staring at her, expressionless.  She bowed her head once, ignoring her natural sense of intimidation.  “Brothers,” she said softly.
They nodded and rose individually, coming around the mesh to clasp her hand or ruffle her hair, smiling now.  The glint of superhuman fangs in the dim blue lights of the room was everywhere.  She blushed as the silent greetings continued.  “It’s good to be back after seven long years,” she finally said.

“So I imagine,” a baritone voice said.  An Iron Priest emerged from the throng, his ravaged face peering down at her.  “Lass, you’re grown strong.”

“Thank you, metalshaper Kannd,” she said, bowing her head slightly.

“And beautiful too,” a Long Fang observed kindly, taking in her elaborately braided red hair and sparkling green eyes.  “We shall have to see if your companion is worthy of your company after all,” he joked, to a few chuckles.

Freya winced.  “I would ask that you do not.  He is a not a warrior, and I do not want him to be.  Even if I did…he has undergone a trial on this journey more horrible than any we could give him without an amputation.”  She wasn’t phrasing it as a joke, either in voice or scent.

Bjorn raised a brow.  “How so?”

“I am gifted with a father and mother that love me, a rabid fandom that adores me,” she said drily, referring to her oceans of fans on Terra, “and a pack to call mine.  His father has wounded him so bitterly and horribly that I would feel ashamed to try him more,” Freya said.  “More than that…I leave to him to speak.”

“I see.”  Bjorn shrugged.  “I suppose it is your decision.”

“Besides, I assure you that Father has…’tried’ him already,” Freya added.  “He hardly let Alex out of his sight from the minute they met.”

One of the Long Fangs laughed.  “Do you fault him?”

“No.”  Freya half-smiled.  “Not at all.”

“Then we’ll leave it to him,” the Long Fang said, and if Freya had been listening as closely as she could have, she would have heard something odd in his tone.

===Let's Get Settled In===


Alex and Jake were first off the transport, looking around in wonder.  The Fang’s docking gallery was colossal, and completely empty.  Dozens of cradles for Thunderhawks and other space and air craft sat idle and unattended.  The entire room smelled like Promethium and incense, but there was none of either to be seen.

A few Iron Priests in servo-harnesses and outfitted with small metal tokens on their hair and arms were dutifully working on a partially-disassembled Stormcloud in one corner, and rows of servitors were sitting idle around the outsides of the massive chamber, but the rest of the colossal chamber rang with silence.  Behind them, the profile of the Iron Tide flickered and disappeared into the Warp, streaming off to battle.

In the distance, the meter-thick walls of ceramite that blocked off the rest of the Fang slid open with a hissing of pneumatics.  Freya’s distinct red hair appeared behind the thin cloud of mist left behind in the chilled air.  She made her way over to the group across the expansive chamber as the boys continued to gawk.  Even Remilia and Venus seemed astounded by the sheer size of the chamber.  It could probably have housed a destroyer by itself.

A Marine in elaborate but heavily scarred armor walked sedately behind her.  He was clearly trying not to outpace her.  As she approached the group, Alex paused his inspection of the room to appreciate the form she cut.  The cloak she had slung around her would have looked cheesy on a girl who didn’t have her appearance, but she made it look good.  The outfit wasn’t clearly a formal uniform like the one Venus had been wearing, either.  For all he knew, it was just clothing.

With precisely no ceremony at all, Freya walked straight up to them and gestured grandly.  “Welcome to the Fang,” she said proudly.

“It’s amazing so far,” Alex said, craning his head back to look at the ceilings, painted white with artificial lighting, but nearly five hundred meters up.  He turned his eyes back down to Freya and smiled, glancing up and down her unusual outfit.  “That looks really good on you.”

“Thanks,” she said happily, brushing the thick pelt around the hood.  “I thought I should look the role when I went to see the others.  Incidentally,” she said slyly, gesturing to the marine who had coasted to a halt behind them, “this is Bjorn the Eldest, presiding Wolf Lord.”

Alex immediately took a knee, as the other three looked on in some surprise.  “A profound honor, Lord Bjorn,” he said with genuine reverence.

Bjorn nodded once as Jake knelt as well.  Venus and Remilia merely saluted.  “Rise, lads.  Welcome to my home.”  His accent was thick, but understandable.  Both men stood back up as he spoke.  “I understand that for you both, this is the first time you’ve come to travel the stars?”

“I did when I was small, Lord, just not recently,” Alex said.

“I’d never left Terra before this,” Jake said.

Bjorn raised one massive ceramite gauntlet.  “Then I’m sure you would wish to rest.”

“No, thank you, Lord, we slept on the flight over.  All we really need to do is find a place to stow our cargo; we weren’t expecting to have to offload all of our possessions originally,” Alex said respectfully.

The ancient Marine eyed the four teens that had accompanied Freya.  “So I imagine.  Simply leave it here, someone will send it down to your cabins.”  He glanced down at Freya herself.  “Freya has convinced me that a more elaborate greeting would have been inappropriate, which suits me.  What precisely were you hoping to do here on your…road trip?” he asked.

Venus smiled.  “Straight to the point.  Good.  Freya has been filling our ears about the sights and spectacles of Fenris since we were little, and every time she comes back, she has fresh tales to tell.  We wanted to see what had so captured her imagination,” she said.

“Ah, and what tales have you been telling, Freya?” Bjorn asked, smiling at last.

“The sights!  I remember last time I came here we went out in an ornithopter and watched that kraken in the ocean,” Freya excitedly recounted.  “I mean, obviously actually going out into the forests would be pretty much suicide for anyone who isn’t me, but we can still see the Great Plains, the ocean…”

“Lass, if it were a tour alone you wanted, I wouldn’t be here,” Bjorn said knowingly.  Freya shrugged coyly.

“Oh, you know, I was sort of hoping that we could hear a few of the stories Dad likes to embellish so much first-hand, too,” she said.

Bjorn’s smile vanished.  “Well, of course your friends are welcome to hear those stories our brothers wish to share,” he said, rather flatly.  Remilia quirked an eyebrow at his evasive reply.  Freya deflated.

“I wouldn’t share anything personal, Bjorn,” she said in her native language.

“I should hope not.  The Wolf Brothers will not share some stories even with those for whom you have vouched personally,” Bjorn said in the same tongue.  Switching back to Gothic, he continued.  “Now.  My friends, please, come to your cabins and accommodate.  You can begin your acclimatization with the station afterwards,” he said.

A few minutes later, Jake dropped his day bag in his spartan cabin and looked around it.  “Spacious.”

“I know, and it’s perfect,” Venus said.  “It’s a bit cold for you, though, isn’t it?  These heaters don’t go up much higher than this,” she noted, running her hand over the thermostat.

He smiled broadly.  “That could work in our favor,” he observed.

“It could, if you were willing to risk the entire Legion finding out,” Venus said.

“Oh, right.  Damn.  Oh well.”  He looked around.  “Is it me, or does it look like we’ll be doing our own laundry here?” he asked, eyeing the piles of spare sheets and towels in the corner of the room.

“Probably.  The Fang doesn’t house too many guests,” Venus said.  “I don’t mind, do you?”

“Nah.”  He sank into the bed, holding his arms out.  She obligingly slid into them and snuggled up against him.  “Mmmm…you’re still nice and warm.  You’re sure you’re not feeling down from the radiation withdrawal?” he asked, squeezing his hands around her waist.

“Yep, I feel right as rain.”  She looked over the piles of bags and boxes the serfs – the Wolves called them skjalds – had sent down to their cabins.  “I don’t see your poker set.”

“I had it in one of the larger cases, I didn’t want the leather getting scratched.”  He leaned forward and rested his head on her shoulder.  “What do you want to do first?”

The hatch creaked as someone rapped it.  Alex poked his head in.  “You guys got a sec?”

Venus stood and stretched.  “Sure.”

Alex entered and closed the hatch again.  “Do you guys feel like this was a mistake?” he asked.

Venus and Jake both stared.  “A mistake?” Venus repeated.

“Yeah.  Freya’s over the moon that she’s home again, of course, but I’m getting some pretty negative waves from the Wolves.  Rout.  Whatever.”

Jake shrugged.  “We knew it could happen.  We’ll just see how much rope we’ve got when it comes to moving around.  Because…well, I don’t think Freya would have brought us here if we couldn’t do much beyond leaving our rooms.”

“Then you’re feeling it too?” Alex pressed.

Jake didn’t answer.  Venus sighed.  “Guys, the one who greeted us was one of the Great Fucking Ninety.  I think we’re welcome.”

“True enough,” Jake said.

The door rapped again.  Venus pulled it open to see Freya and Remilia outside.  “Hey!  You guys all settled in?” Freya asked.

“Sure are.  What are we doing first?” Venus asked.

Freya walked in, pulling her cloak around her so it wouldn’t snag on the hatch frame.  “I know you guys are a bit nervous, but believe me, this is going to be so rad,” Freya said.  “I’ve arranged a transport to take us out to the World’s Ocean, so you guys can see the reason Dad’s mildly obsessed with fishing,” she said.

“That sounds cool.  How long is the flight?” Jake asked.

“Only half an hour by gunship flat out, you can see it from the observation deck,” Freya said.  She beamed at the others.  Her fangs seemed a bit more noticeable in her new outfit somehow.  “This is going to be so cool, you guys, trust me."

===Metaphorical Skydiving===


Nearly forty minutes later, Jake was sitting on the lip of the ramp of a Thunderhawk and dangling his legs over an ocean nine miles deep.  A pair of the Legion’s Blood Claws sat beside him on benches, keeping careful watch on their guests.  Freya’s hood was down, and her cloak was unfastened save at the neck.  The rushing air coming into the hold of the ship billowed the cloak like wings around her.

She was standing, unsupported and barefoot, next to him on the ramp.  The others gripped the hydraulic tubes that lowered and lifted the ramp and stared out at the sight.  All five were tethered to the gunship’s interior.

“I could live to be a hundred years old and never see anything like that,” Jake said in astonishment.

“Blue…as far as the eye can see,” Venus whispered.

“Farther.  We’re ninety kilometers out from shore,” one of the Claws said.

Jake slowly put his hand to his head, staring out at the water.  “It’s beautiful, all right,” he murmured.

A massive red tentacle whipped out of the water, splashing down several hundred meters away.  The non-Fenrisian passengers stared and gasped.  “The hell was that?” Alex asked.

“A Kraken looking for ships to devour,” one of the Claws said.  “Don’t worry, it’s just a juvenile, it can’t reach us here.”

“That thing is a juvenile?” Jake demanded.  “It’s the size of the ship we rode here!”

“Sure is.  The biggest ones that ever existed are over five klicks long,” the Claw said.

Alex stared.  “Are you shitting me?”

“Would I do that, Lord Carlin?” the Claw said drily.  “It’s real.”

“All the water does on my planet is melt you, yours actually eats you,” Venus observed.  The headsets each passenger wore crackled with Freya’s hearty chuckle.

The gunship wheeled around over the ocean to give its passengers a better view.  Freya subconsciously shifted her balance, letting the motions shift right through her.  Jake’s knuckles were white on the lip of the gunship.  “Freya, have you seen this before?” he asked.

“Sure have.  Every time I come home.  If Dad were here, he’d put down at the edge of the water and fish for a while.”  Freya smiled at him.  “Crazy old fart loves the water.  The worst part of living on Terra, for him, is the fact that there’s no water left.”

“Really?  He never talks about it,” Jake said.

“You’ve met Father Russ, Lord Seager?” one of the Claws asked.

“Sure, he’s come to several parties I’ve attended,” Jake said.  “I wouldn’t say we’re, you know, close, or anything, but we’ve spoken.”

“What did you think of him?” the second Claw asked.

“Funny question to ask in front of his daughter,” Jake said coolly.

The second Claw cocked his head.  “What do you mean?”

Freya reached over and squeezed Jake’s shoulder.  “Don’t answer, Jake,” she said.

“Wasn’t going to.  Nothing bad to say, though, you understand,” he said with a wink.

Freya winked back before turning to face the Claw.  “Terrans don’t like to talk about people behind their backs, Brother, certainly not in front of their relatives.  They think it’s dishonorable and rude,” Freya explained in Juvjk.

“Oh, I see.”  The warrior shrugged in contrition.  “Sorry.”

“No harm done.”  Freya turned back to the others, noting that Alex and Remilia were both peering into the water, trying to see the Kraken in its endless depths.

“Do you guys want to set down out there?” Freya asked, gesturing at the shoreline as it came into view.

“Can we do that?” Remilia asked.

“Sure,” Freya said.

“Not here, Sister Freya,” the first Claw said.  “There’s a hell of a battle going on at the shoreline.  The tribes of the Walking Waves are protecting their fishing grounds from the advancing Krennir,” he added, as if anybody but him knew who that was.

“Ah.  Farther up the coastline, then?” Freya asked.

“That, we can do.”  The gunship angled away from the waters and headed south, gaining some altitude as it did.  Jake scooted back up the ramp and sat back down on the bench.

“Your world is beautiful, Freya,” he said.

“Thanks, Jake.  It really is.  There’s a few small cleared areas of the mountains outside the Fang.  If there aren’t any units out on training runs out there, I should show you,” she said.

“I’d like that.”  Jake turned to grin at Remilia.  “Home, sweet home for you, eh?”

She shook her head.  “No, it’s a hell of a lot colder on Inwit.  Being in real snow, though…I’ve missed that.”

The water below suddenly shifted to brown rocks and earth as they passed over the shore.  Freya slid her socks and boots back on and unclipped her harness.  She jumped the last meter down to the rocky shoreline and landed with her head near the ground.  While the others climbed down more sedately, she took a deep breath of the heady, saline air.  She closed her eyes and let the memories of her last time here flood back.

Fishing with her father on the coastline.  Riding the pauldron of his armor as he ran over the Koromi ice field.  Sitting on the bed in the Royal suite in the Fang and letting her mother teach her how to make Fenrisian braids in her hair.  Listening to Bjorn tell outrageous stories about the Crusade, calling him out on them, and having the entire room back him up.

Freya smiled contentedly as the others walked up behind her.  She straightened up and rubbed a tear out of her eye.  Being home, she decided, felt very, very good.

Alex walked straight over to the waterline and made his way down the rocks.  The saltwater lapped at his arctic camo boots as he reached the edge.  “Freya, anything going to eat me if I stick my hand in the water?” he called up to her.

“Yes.  Let me see first,” she said, shaking the memories away and walking up to the rocks.  She peered down into the water with her hyper-enhanced senses and saw nothing.  “Go ahead.”

Alex stuck his fingers in the frigid water as a wave crashed.  He watched, mesmerized, as the ripples of the Kraken’s distant passing splashed against the rocks below him.  “Absolutely incredible.”

“Isn’t it?”  Freya jumped down the rocks and dropped neatly into position beside him.  “I used to go out to a little island in the ocean west of here and fish with Dad.  The water’s so shallow there that there’s no Krakens or anything, it’s just grazer fish and small sharks.”  She stared into the water, watching tiny fish swirl about under the wavetops.  “I loved it.  It was the most relaxed I ever saw him.”

Alex dried his hands on his thermo pants.  “Do you fish too?”

“No, Dad said I wouldn’t enjoy it until I enjoyed being slow.  I had no idea what he meant.  I tried it a few times and I think I understand what he meant, though,” she joked.

She glanced over at him.  The shimmering reflection of the sun off the water in her canine eyes was captivating.  Alex started to understand the extent to which she was truly in her element.  “I love it.  I should take you guys out there if we get a chance.”

“I’m sure we will, it’s only been a day,” Alex said.

Freya slid her cloak back from the water’s edge and discreetly squeezed Alex’s hand.  “I have so much to show you,” she said quietly.

“I’m looking forward to it,” Alex replied.  She nipped his ear and rose.

“We can sit here and picnic if you guys want, we brought some food,” Freya said, gesturing to the gunship.  The aircraft was settling down on the rocky ground behind them.  The two Claws had vanished.

“That would be awesome,” Jake said.  He and Venus were still standing at the top of the rocks, pitching little pebbles into the waves.  Remilia had clambered up to the lowest bough of a tree on the rocks’ edge, and was staring out over the water with her hand over her eyes.

“How wide is this ocean?” Remilia asked.

“About twenty thousand kilometers across at the equator,” Freya said.  She gathered her legs beneath her and leaped back up to the top of the rocky shore as Alex scrambled up behind her.  “It’s called the World Ocean or Grand Seas in Gothic.”

Remilia leaped back down from the branch and rubbed her hands clean.  “What did you pack?”

“Just some basic rations and salted meat, nothing fancy,” Freya said, walking back into the hold.

===Lunch and a Lecture===


She emerged moments later with a bundle of food in hand and spread it out on a tarpaulin.  “Hope you guys are hungry, I maaaaaay have packed a bit much,” she said.

As the others sat down to eat, a small rustle in the nearby ground cover drew Freya’s ear.  She glanced over at the source of the sound as one of her two ersatz tour guides appeared.  He immediately knelt at her side and whispered.

“Sister, the message has come through for elements of Seventh to depart to reinforce the pack,” he said under his breath in Juvjk.

“Then do so, you don’t need my permission,” she said in the same volume.  He nodded and walked up the ramp to speak to the pilot.

“So, I thought I would tell you guys a bit more about the tribes of the region if you’re interested,” Freya said as she sliced open a pack of salted ribs.

“Cool.  What were the two he mentioned before?” Alex asked, gesturing after the Claw speaking to the pilot.

“Oh, the Walking Waves are a nomadic tribe of raiders and seamen who trawl the waters along the coasts.  Every so often they land to cut down trees and build new ships, or trade their plunder in the larger townships.  The rest of the time they’re sailing, exploring, fighting, fishing,” Freya said.  “The Krennir are hunters, rangers, cartographers.  Closest thing this part of the planet has to actual academics, really.  They’re generally the only tribe around here that stays put long enough to actually research metallurgy or cartography.  If they’re hitting the Waves, the Waves must have done something really precipitous,” she said.

“Like what?” Venus asked.

“Burn down a trading post or plunder a fishing fleet, something like that,” Freya said.  “Nearly all the game animals around here are fish, so if you take out another tribe’s fishing boats, they’re beyond fucked.  They guard the trees near the major settlements with whole armies.”

“I hadn’t even thought of that,” Venus said.  She bit into a thin bread and ripped off a chunk.  “How many tribes are there?”

“Dozens on this continent, it’s by far the most heavily populated.  About thirteen each on the other two.  They range in size from a few hundred people to fifty thousand.  The really huge one on the southern continent has almost a tenth of a million people in it,” Freya said.

“How do the little ones not get annexed by the huge ones?” Jake asked.

Freya cross her legs and picked up a flatbread of her own.  “The little ones are bare bones, really.  All warriors and survivalists.  The huge ones are only huge because they won some land in previous wars and had the chance to get big.  Big families, internal politics.  Eventually, the big ones splinter or get overconfident and attack enemies who have lots of allies, and they get cut up by the other tribes.  It’s been like this for eleven thousand years,” she said.

“And they never learned any sort of advanced technologies or anything in all that time?” Remilia asked.

“They never felt like they needed it,” Freya said.  “I’m sure that they’d take it if it were given, but they’ve survived alien invasions, the coming of the Emperor, and who knows what else without real science.  Even the Rout doesn’t use technology if they don’t need it,” she pointed out.

“Don’t they have lower standards of living because of that?” Jake pointed out.

Freya shrugged.  “Lower than whom?  The other planets of the Imperium that they don’t know exist?”

“Fair enough.”  Jake started assembling a sandwich.  “So do you think you’ll go and see some of them in your time here?”

“Oh hell yes!  I’ve been waiting for that.  Probably in some of the larger settlements on the northern continent, they tend to be busy.  Land is the only real commodity on Fenris.  The summers around here are caused by volcanic eruptions, not seasonal axis drift, so the amount of available farm and hunting land changes literally every year.  The only permanent cities are the ones that are built on top of stable tectonic plates,” Freya said.

“Sounds a lot like Nocturne,” Venus said.

Freya paused to think.  “It does, doesn’t it?  Not really the same.  The Nocturneans are a part of the greater Imperium, and they’re proud of that.  My people are proud that they aren’t.  Inasmuch as they know about it at all.”  She bit off some salted meat and chewed.  “They think my father’s men are warrior-gods, who descend from on high to take fallen soldiers and sailors off to ascend to godhood in the Fang.  Let’s not disabuse them, all right?” she said.

“Of course not.”  Venus nodded solemnly.  “We probably won’t interact with the natives much anyway, right?”

“Nope.”  Freya paused to sip at her water.  “I will, though.  If you guys don’t mind.”

Alex frowned.  “What do you mean?”

“I mean I want to put on some makeup and disappear for a few days.  Go and explore the tribes a bit from a distance.”

“Well, you just said you would do that,” he pointed out.

Freya shrugged uncomfortably.  “No, I mean actually go into the cities in disguise and just explore a bit.  It wasn’t really safe to do so alone before, I was ten.  But, well…now I want to go see what my people are like when they don’t know I’m me.”

Venus smiled knowingly.  “It gets to you, doesn’t it?”

“It does.  On Nocturne you did it, but they all knew who you were by sight.  If I hide my teeth and eyes, nobody on this planet will know me,” Freya said.  “I want to take advantage of that.”

“You don’t need our approval, do you?” Alex asked.  “Go.”

“You’ll be on your own for a while, though,” Freya pressed.  “And you may have noticed that some of the Wolves don’t like visitors.  I would feel awful if I left you alone for a week and all you guys did was sit around your rooms playing cards.”

The Claw returned from the hold of the gunship and knelt by her side again.  “The pack leaves for the greenskin hunt, Sister,” he whispered.

“Good.”  She spoke up, a bit louder, and in Gothic.  “Tell me, Brother, what do you think my comrades should do in their time here?”

The Claw paused.  “I do not understand.”

“Their journey is as much an opportunity to learn our ways and see our world as it is a holiday.  What do you recommend?” Freya asked.

The Claw slowly sat back down, clearly surprised.  Bits of sand flaked off of his well-worn combat boots as he sank onto his haunches.  “Well…we so rarely support visitors…I would ask what they hope to do,” he said, glancing at the teenaged vacationers.

Jake shrugged.  “Personally?  I want to see real weather.  Fly a gunship over a storm cell and look at it from above.  That would be amazing.”
“That can certainly be arranged,” the Claw said.

“You know what I haven’t done in a million years?” Remilia asked.  “I haven’t gone mountain climbing.  I would love that.  If I even remember how,” she said with a snort.

“Also a possibility.”  The Claw looked to be less than thirty years old, to Venus’ careful eye.  He had a thick line of muscle growth along his upper back that said ‘ex-cavalry’ to her.  Carrying the axe or lance on horseback and sweeping them at knee height would account for it.  His eyes were even more bestial than Freya’s were.  The edges of his irises were a bit blurred from hundreds of capillaries crossing the whites into the red-brown discs.  His canines looked only a tiny bit larger than Freya’s.  But then, he had probably only been implanted a few years before.

“I’m looking to see the mountains, too,” Venus said.

“The chance to go fishing in a body of water with actual fish sounds good,” Alex joked.  “Nothing but reservoirs on Terra.”

The Claw finally smiled.  It was nothing more than a faint curl of the lips, but it was there.  Freya noticed and spoke up.  “Sit, Brother, have some food.”

“Thank you, Sister, but I would rejoin Brother Arj on the hunt.”  He stood and bowed slightly to his guests, slapping a fist across his plastron.  “I will return in a while to carry you all back to the Fang.”

The Claw melted into the loose undergrowth and trees once more.  As soon as he was out of earshot – keeping in mind that that was a fair distance with a Wolf – Jake asked the obvious question.

“What hunt?”

“He’s probably off getting lunch,” Freya said.  “There’s decent game around here.”

“In an hour?  What if he can’t find anything, it all got scared off by the gunship or something?” Alex asked in confusion.

“Then he’ll be hungry.”  Freya lifted a fruit and sliced it in her hand.  “It happens.”

Alex thought that worldview over.  “You know, on Terra, someone once told me that parts of the planet were so agrarian at one point that hunting actually became necessary, because they had to keep animals away from the crops.”

“Not a whole lot of cropland on Fenris.  We just eat whatever’s at hand, even if we have to go kill it,” Freya said sagely.

“‘We’ again.”  Jake looked over at her.  “You really do think of yourself as a Marine?”

“No, not…well.  A Vlka Fenryka?  Absolutely.  An actual warrior?  Not until I earn it.”  Freya grinned at Jake just wide enough for him to get a good look at her fangs.  “Do you not think of me as a Wolf?”

He smiled back, unperturbed by her display.  “No, you are.  It’s just not a side we see at school, much.”

She nodded, satisfied.  Jake continued.  “Do you know how we can send messages home?  If there were Astropaths in the Fang, I didn’t see a way to contact them.”

“Eh, Astropaths aren’t too popular around here,” Freya said uneasily.  “I’m sure there is one, though, we get messages from somewhere.”


===Visual Inspection===


Venus finished her sandwich early and rose to her feet.  “May I just take a quick look at the gunship?  Just to see how it’s different.”

Remilia chuckled.  “Typical.  We’re on a new planet for the first time and the first thing she does is inspect the wargear.”  Freya waved her assent around a mouthful of cookie.

Venus walked around the outside of the gunship, her hearing still allowing her to follow the others’ discussion.  The pilot, a handsome serf in the livery of the Wolf Father’s Company – the equivalent of the Fire Drakes – nodded politely as she ran her obsidian fingers over the rack of assault cannon targeting gear.  The pilot emerged from the cabin moments later and joined her in her external inspection.

“Milady Venus, an honor,” he said.

Venus nodded to him and stepped back, drinking in the details of the gunship.  It was clearly old, but well-maintained enough.  A few errant spots of rust or damage peeked through the paint, though.  She tried not to appear disapproving.  “Hello,” she said.

“Fine old war bird, isn’t she?  Stygies 13-built,” the skjald said.  The rough brogue in his voice lent his words a proud feeling.  That, or he just knew his aircraft.  “The Rout assigns specific pilots to specific craft, and they’re almost never Astartes themselves,” he added, stroking the same targeting array fondly.  “This little bird has been shooting heretics and aliens in the arsenal of the Rout for about nine hundred years.”

“Venerable spirits, then,” Venus said, nodding her respect to the ancient machine.

“They sure are.”  The skjald – who only looked a few years older than the Claws that had ridden there with them – leaned on the light blue aircraft and smiled easily at his guest.  “How are you enjoying your stay so far?” he asked.

“It’s been beautiful,” Venus said, gesturing out at the ocean.  “They sure don’t have those on Terra.”
“Not any more anyway,” the skjald chuckled.

“Right.”  Venus stepped back from the ship and crossed her arms over her loose fleece jacket.  “Do you ever fly her in combat?” she asked.

“My ship?  Sure, several times.  But, as you can see, it’s a Transport variant, not an Attack-variant,” the pilot said.  He turned a keen eye to the horizon as he said it.  “Hmm.  That’ll be a problem.”

“Pardon?” Venus asked.

The skjald gestured expansively.  “Lord Seager may get that chance to watch a storm today.”

“Is there one coming?” Venus asked, scanning the horizon with her hand over her eyes.

“Slow, but huge, milady, make no mistake of it,” the pilot said, shaking his head at her naïveté.

“How much time do we have?” Venus asked.

The pilot glanced at thickening darkness over the horizon.  “It’ll arrive in perhaps…four hours.  I’d say it would last less than two hours, but the wind will drive ships aground if they don’t moor properly.”

“Interesting.”  Venus glanced at the much taller man.  “How can you tell?”

“Milady, I grew up around here.  This is something you have to know if you work the fleets,” the skjald said.

A faint rustle revealed the two Claws emerging from the sparse vegetation around them.  “My Lady Venus, we must depart,” one Claw said.  The other immediately reported the same to Freya, still sitting with the others and snacking.  “A Walking Waves ship is moving down the coast to us.  We will not be here when it arrives,” the Claw said flatly.

“Understood, Marine,” Venus said, immediately moving towards the ramp.

Minutes later, the group was in the air.  The aircraft soared over the landing site.  To Remilia’s vocal surprise, the Wolves hadn’t even attempted to conceal their presence by erasing any signs of their picnic site.

“We take no issue with our kin knowing of us having been here.  If anything, it will help,” one Claw said.  His wide brown eyes glinted a little in the light from Venus’ questioning stare.  “The tribes of Fenris will always make war, milady.  They know we watch them.”

“For what?  Signs of weakness?” Remilia asked.

“Of course not, milady Remilia.”  The Claw leaned forward.  “We look for the fallen.  Those who are struck down before their prime.”
“And…what do you do with them?” Remilia asked carefully.

The second Claw spoke up.  “That is for the Rune-seers to know, milady, and no other.”  He glared at the other Claw for a moment, and Freya smelled the resentment that his companion had spoken out of turn.

The first Wolf was expressionless under the resentful stare.  At length, the uncomfortable silence was broken.  “We’re at two klicks up, Miladies, lords.  If you wish to see that storm cell, Lord Seager, now would work,” the pilot said over the intercom.

“Cool.  Can we?” Jake asked.

In response, the rear hatch began to open.  Jake clipped his tether back on and rose, peering over the edge of the gunship.  The pilot brought it to a dead standstill.  Jake and the others grabbed hydraulic lines and hatch stanchions, staring out at the sea below.

“It was blue down there, last I looked,” Jake said quietly.

The whole world was grey.  The entire horizon, from one end to the other, was wreathed in a thick white-grey mix of cloud.  Every few moments, the veil would light up with blue, as a lightning bolt arced down to the water.

“Weather is awesome,” Jake decided.

“This is something I should have done years ago,” Freya chuckled.

“Funny how you don’t appreciate weather until you’re with somebody who’s never seen it,” Remilia mused.

Jake shook his head.  “Remilia, you’d have thought that was cool whether I was here or not.”

She shrugged.  “Probably.”

The ramp abruptly began closing.  The five teens backed up as the pilot broke in.  “Sorry, my Lords and Ladies, but the cell is moving closer to shore, and we’re going to get hit by fierce updraft.  Can’t risk hatches open,” he said, sounding somewhat distracted.

“Understood.  Back to the Fang, then,” Freya said, her cloak billowing around her in the wind.

The gunship banked and climbed as the group retook their seats.  Within minutes, the roar of the engines died a bit as the gunship soared far above the storms and into the thinner upper atmosphere.


===A Little Exploration===


As the Thunderhawk flew back to the Fang, Freya removed her helmet and tether and walked up to the cabin, poking her head into the cockpit.  “Pilot, what time will it be local when we arrive?” she asked.

“Around 1310 local, Princess Freya, but it will be dark as coal,” the pilot said.

“Oh?”

“Aye, Princess, it’s late autumn in this hemisphere.”  The pilot nudged a brass knob slightly as the wind picked up.  “Only the top four hundred decks of the Fang will have natural light.”

“Any idea how many of the Brothers will be in the Fang when we return?” she asked, arriving at the question she had wanted to keep off the vox.

“Two Great Companies’ strength at most, at this point,” the pilot said, muting his microphone.

“Of course, thanks.”  Freya closed the cockpit and thought over her newfound insights.  She slowly ran a soft leather gloved finger over her lip, considering.

“Freya?” she heard someone ask over the engine din.  Alex was looking at her questioningly.

She padded back to her seat and slid in.  “Sorry, wanted to ask the pilot something.”  She slid her arm around his waist and smiled.  “You guys mind taking the afternoon off?  The Great Companies go off to join the hunt.  It’ll be a wild rush in the Fang to get the Brothers mobilized.”

“Sure, we can just hang out for a while,” Alex said as the others shrugged or nodded.

The gunship slid into a cradle on a mid-level dock of the massive structure.  All around them, dozens of servitors and skjalds were hauling massive racks of autocannon rounds to pallets, to be lifted into gunships.  Freya led the group skillfully through the chaos, arriving at a tiny passenger lift at the back of the dock.  With a tap, the started ascending into the core of the colossal fortress.

Jake leaned back on the railing, massaging his aching ears.  “How come the Wolves…Rout decided to make a single gigantic HQ, Freya?”

“No idea.  It’s cool though, right?” Freya asked with a smirk.  “I’ve never asked.”

“I’d kinda like to know,” Jake said, rubbing his fingers over his ears.  Alex was looking uncomfortable too.

“I can just ask,” she said.  She cocked her head with some concern.  “Are you all right?”

“No, the pressure differential in here fucking hurts,” Alex said.  He planted his hand over his nose and relaxed the muscles at the back of his mouth, popping his ears.  “How in the hell do the skjalds deal with this kind of pressure shifts?” he asked.

Venus and Remilia, their biology accommodating them far better, looked at Freya askance as the perky redhead shrugged.  “No idea.  It’s probably just like working on a shuttle, though, right?  You just get used to it.”

Jake shook his head.  “The air pressure in the underhive is half again what is in the spires.  I’ve been to both and I’m still in pain,” he said, aping Alex’s gesture.

“Well…sorry,” Freya said.

“I’m not faulting anybody.  You live in a building this tall, you pay the price,” Alex said, sniffing deeply.

The lift halted on the deck with their suites, and to Freya’s immediate notice, they weren’t alone.  She detected at least four other people where there had been none before.  Curious, she glanced over the piles of luggage outside the apartment doors.  The containers were all mil-spec plastic, with Imperial Aquilae on them.  A few skjalds were carrying them into the apartments, apparently settling in some new tenants.

Venus pushed her own door open and stepped in, noting that her previous assessment had been accurate: the room had not been cleaned.  She shrugged, tossing her fleece jacket over a chair.  She leaned back out of the room and caught the eye of one of the skjalds.  “Excuse me, where’s the laundry on this floor?”

The serf blinked.  “I beg your pardon, milady?”

“Is there one?” she asked.

“Er, yes, milady, one floor below,” he said, somewhat surprised.  “But all you have to do is leave something in the hamper by the door and we’ll do it for you.”

“Ah, thanks,” she said, sliding the door shut.

Jake stretched out on his back, weaving his fingers together behind his head.  “Hell of a flight,” he said softly.

“Wasn’t it?” Venus asked.  She unclipped her thermo belt – the only part of the outfit she had worn – and dropped onto the bed next to him.  “That storm cell was something else.”

Jake glanced around the room before ruefully shaking his head.  “Oh, durr.”

“What?”

“I started looking for a holo,” he chuckled.

“Right.  None of that on Fenris.”  She slid up next to him and listened to his tension fade.  The sound of him equalizing to the lower pressure on this floor was unusual.  “You’re all right now?  No pressure aches?”

“A little, actually.  My legs are tired,” he said.  “Not used to changing pressures that fast in an unsealed lift.”  He stuck out a hand and she obligingly shifted into his arms.  She may not have been Freya, either in regards to the sensitivity of her senses or her need for familiar environments, but it was still a comforting gesture.  She relaxed into his grip as he rolled sideways to look at her.  “How about you?” he asked.

“I’m great.  Looking forward to tonight.”  She closed her eyes to protect his.  “Freya’s little story-teller circle should be fun.”

“I hope we’re not treading on people’s toes,” Jake said.

She shrugged awkwardly.  “I don’t think we are.  Certainly the two guys on the flight today were pretty polite.”

Jake conceded the point with a silent nod.  She rose from his arms and started pulling a nicer shirt on.  “If we’re going to be dining with the actual leadership of the lingering Rout, though, we should look the part.  The jacket shirt from the ball back home should be good for you,” she said.

“All right.”  Both teens fell silent as they dressed for the evening.

Freya, who didn’t feel the need to change, was waiting for the others outside the rooms when a few Imperial Army officers stepped from a lift at the end of the corridor.  They were arguing vociferously, with all the wild gestures and veiled threats of an old married couple.  Freya leaned back against the wall of the corridor to let them pass, and they walked straight by and into their rooms without even stopping to acknowledge her.  Then, perhaps they hadn’t recognized her.

Freya stared at their retreating backs with confusion, but shrugged it off after a moment.  It was only when a muffled yell came from one of the rooms that her attention returned.  Curious, she made her way over to the open door, to see an officer cradling a hand, glaring at a dropped battery.  “Bloody cheap power cells!” the officer growled.  He caught sight of Freya and glared.  “Something you need, ma’am?”

“Sorry, I heard a yelp and thought someone was hurt.”  She ducked back, settling back against the wall outside her own room and waiting.  Moments later, Alex emerged from the room, smartly dressed in a navy blue vest over a light blue formal shirt.  Remilia emerged from her own room with Jake and Venus arriving moments later.

“Everyone ready?  We have an hour before the dinner, we should explore a bit,” Freya said.

“Sure thing.  You’re keeping the cloak and cowl look?” Alex asked.

“You bet your ass,” Freya said.  “I’m the only Fenrisian here, I’m gonna look it.”


===A Moment of Silence===


The group walked into a lift and dropped down to the central levels of the gigantic structure, pausing outside a room Freya knew very well.  She opened the doors with a respectful nod to the pair of guards outside, who clasped their Power Swords to their ceremonial leather armor with reverence.
“This,” Freya said, taking in the room with a gesture, “is the Recollections Chamber.”

The wide room was filled with images of the sky.  Not just Fenris’ sky, with its massive moon and wide starscape, but alien skies.  Massive rings shimmered like vertical lines in some of the still photographs and holos on the walls.  A complex moonrise of five tiny satellites orbiting a single massive moon filled one corner of the room.  Directly above them, the white disk of Fenris’ own moon, in a partial eclipse leaving it looking like a platinum wedding ring, completely filled the ceiling.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Freya asked.

“It’s amazing.  What words are these from?” Alex asked.

Freya gestured, and the lights of the room went out, save a single spotlight over a graven plaque on a chunk of marble in the middle of the chamber.  The plaque had numbers and names all over its surface.  “The holos all have numbers next to them, if you switch them on,” she said.  She tapped one of the numbers on the plaque, and the seemingly inert surface *ticked* slightly.  One of the images of starscapes over them blinked once.  “So…that one was taken in the final year of the Arceba Wars, from the roof of the capitol building the aliens built over the human colony there, before Dad’s men burned it down.”

“So these are commemorative victory trophies?” Venus asked.  Her eyes swept beams of light over the holos until she slid her mirrored sunglasses on.

“Sort of.  These were taken any place the Rout won a campaign without losing any Astartes,” Freya said.  She gestured at a small shot of the Milky Way from deep space.  “We leave the spot next to that one picture there vacant.  In that campaign, the Wolves won without losing any Marines, but an entire battalion of Army troops was lost to the Warp.”  She pointed at another, very large image on the farthest wall, of a fiery red moon hanging over a tiny white one.  “That’s the oldest.  Fiftieth year of the Crusade, I think.  Dad was there for that one in person.”

“These are incredible,” Venus said.  She reached her hand through a hologram of an inky, black night, with only a few faint stars.  “I bet this was taken on a hive world, but far from the hives."

“Sure was.  How could you tell?” Freya asked.

“The light pollution.  There are few clouds, but the stars are so faint.”  Venus pulled her hand back and looked over the plaque.  “This is very cool, Freya.”

“I’m glad you like it.”  Freya crouched down before the marble block and sketched a quick symbol over the stone.  She sat down at its base and crossed her legs, drawing her cloak up around her.  “I used to sit in here and listen to Dad tell stories for hours as a kid.  Closest I’ve ever come to inactivity,” she said with a self-deprecating chuckle.

Remilia tapped a rune on the plaque and watched an image flicker.  “This is almost like a shrine,” she said.

“It is a shrine.”  Freya looked up at the moon of Fenris overhead.  “We honor our most significant victories.”

Remilia nodded.  “It’s humbling.”

Alex sat down by the door, looking at the stars flowing overhead.  “You ever sit here and try to make the star patterns line up?”

“A few times.  It’s kind of useless without a reference point.  There’s a few obvious ones,” she said, gesturing to two that looked nothing alike to the mortals in the room.  “They were taken on two planets in the same system.”

“…Uh huh,” Alex said.

Venus crouched beside Freya and looked over the plaque.  Freya looked over at her and saw the faint red ovals of light under the reflective surfaces widen and shift as she read.  Of course, with no irises Freya couldn’t see them move side to side.  “Six…seven…eight hundred image keys,” Venus said under her breath.  “Are all of the Wolves’ major zero-casualty campaigns here?”

“Not even half, but these are the ones where they had time to stop and record them,” Freya said.

“Cool.”  Venus glanced sideways through her glasses.  “Do you guys have a shrine to your members of the Great Ninety, too?”

“We do, but it’s not here,” Freya said.  “It’s in the Hall of the Giants.  I can’t get you guys in there.”  She paused.  “Well.  Yes…I could, but it’s the most sacred room in the star system.”

“I understand, Freya, I didn’t take you guys into the Hall of Deathfire, either.  Can you describe it?” Venus asked.

Freya thought.  “The Hall of Giants is where the Legionary Dreadnoughts rest.  You can understand its significance,” she said.

“Sure, I get it.”

“Right.  It’s a statue of a hooded Vlka, nobody specific, standing over two sleeping Fenrisian Wolves, with one hand over his secondary heart, and the other making the symbol of the Fang in mid-air over the sleeping Wolves,” Freya said.  “The names of our four members of the Great Ninety are carved into the base of the statue, and the words filled with sapphire dust.  In the light of the room, it looks like fresh paint, of the same color as the paint scheme on the original Legion Terminators,” Freya said.  “It’s just a coincidence that all four of our Great Ancient Ones have Terminator Honors.”

“Oh, I didn’t know that.  That sounds very cool,” Venus said.  Remilia listened in with interest.  The Fists had a much simpler monument to their five members.  “You’ve seen our public one on Nocturne, in Themis.  Dad also built a private monument on the grounds back home.”

“I remember.”  Freya drew her knees up to her chin and stared at the plaque, reminiscing about her youth in the Fang.  Venus stood and walked away, as much to give her cousin privacy as to see the rest of the room.

After a time, a guard at the entrance to the room coughed under his breath, drawing Freya’s reluctant attention.  “Princess, Lord Ackur Redwind has instructed me to inform you that your room has been prepared for the evening meal,” the skjald said quietly.  He didn’t enter the room as he said it.
Freya nodded.  The guard turned around to relay a reply.  The teenage girl’s eyes drifted back to the plaque for a moment before rising to her booted feet.  She brushed dust from her leather skort.  “Well, guys, dinner’s ready.”

“All right.”  Jake stood from his own seat and walked out.  As Venus and Remilia followed, Alex paused.  Freya was standing still, watching the simulated stars all around her.  The legacy of her pack’s most hallowed and unilateral victories shimmered around her in a tapestry of history, one as lasting as her father himself.  Alex didn’t need to ask why she liked it so much.

He waited for her.  After a few more seconds, she shook herself awake and walked out, pausing to squeeze his hand and offer him a toothy grin.  “Hell of a thing, isn’t it?” she asked.

“Sure is.”


===Dinnertime===


Below, Lord Redwind, the presiding second in command of the Twelfth Great Company, slowly paced the small room the serfs had set aside.  He hadn’t met Freya before, but from what little he knew of her, he expected the meal to be eventful, to say the least.
The door swung open, and a pair of skjalds in formal uniforms stepped in and offered up crisp salutes.  “Lord Redwind, on behalf of the Imperial Army Sixth Grand Army Group, I present to your Lordship: General Bletcher and General Mustafa,” one said.  The odd tone in his voice spoke volumes about how unusual it was to speak so formally, even to a Lord, but certain protocols mattered more than others did.  Lord Redwind was nothing if not a stickler for protocol.

The two Army officers walked in and saluted sharply.  Redwind eyed them both before gesturing them to seats in silence.  As they sat, Redwind halted his pacing and slowly walked up to the table.  The loose blue robe of office he wore did very little to conceal his massive frame, and the tracery of tattoos and scars over his face and upper chest.  “Warriors.  Welcome.  I am afraid none of us have a great deal of time to chat,” he said, completely without preamble.  His voice was surprisingly soft, which was all the more unnerving for his bestial eyes.  There wasn’t a scrap of humanity left in them.

“I understand, my Lord, and we are sincerely grateful for the time we have,” one of them said.

“Do not mistake me, General.  I mean that we may discuss freely, but there is another guest arriving shortly, and that guest and their companions demand the highest attention I can provide.  So please, let us be frank,” Redwind said.  His Fenrisian accent brought his vowels long and cut his consonants short, lending him a somewhat imposing tone that did little to put his guests at ease.

“I see.  Then straight to it, your Lordship: the call has come.  I understand that the Seventh has mobilized?” the other General said.

“It has.  Part of it, anyway.  My own company will be next to dispatch on the hunt, I’m sure, if it is dispatched.”  Redwind sat as well.  “What’s your own disposition?”

“The regiments are raised, your Lordship, and the Naval assets diverted.”  The first General looked sideways at the skjalds who stood motionless by the door, and decided not to make a point of them.  “The messages coming in from the fronts suggest that the activity of the green hordes has died down a bit since the dam broke on the Void Walks, but we can’t rely on that.  The very nature of the greenskins is a persistent one: when they find a target, they literally CAN’T stop fighting it.  We have to be ready for greenskin colonies to be forming outside the traditional…‘borders’ of the Imperium,” the General said.

“Naturally, General.”  Redwind leaned forward, setting his unblinking gaze on the speaker.  “What are we looking at?”

“There are whole regions out along the Void Walks that are completely unexplored, sir.”  The General shrugged awkwardly.  “Worst-case scenario, there’s entire Webway networks and Ork empires out there we’ve never even mapped.”

“Sounds like a best-case scenario to me,” Redwind said, very softly.  Both Generals shifted uncomfortably.

Redwind’s ears caught the other guest walking down the hall.  He straightened in his seat.  “Gentlemen, as much as I’d like to sit and talk shop…”

“Of course,” one of the officers said, rising to his feet.  He paused with a gesture from his host.

“…Perhaps we could pause for supper and simply continue after my other guests are gone?” Redwind continued with a slight smile.

“Oh.”  The General sat again, feeling somewhat foolish.  “We’d be honored to eat at your table, of course, your Lordship.”

“Good.”

The door swung open.  Both skjalds immediately sank to a reverent knee.  “My Lord Redwind, her Majesty, Blood Princess of the Rout, Freya Russ.”

Both Generals froze stock-still.  Redwind finally grinned.

He rose to bow his respect.  “Sister, welcome home.”

“Good to be back, Brother Redwind.”  Freya sketched a quick nod and made the symbol she had made before.  “We’re honored.”  She reached her hand out behind her, switching back to Gothic.  “Lord Trader Alex Carlin, Sieur Jacob Seager, Lady Primarch Venus, Lady Primarch Remilia Dorn.”

“A true honor, my Lords and Ladies,” the one of the Generals said, rising to his feet.  He started when he recognized the redheaded girl leading the group.  Freya clearly made the connection, too.

“How’s your hand?” she asked slyly.

“Good as new…Princess Russ,” the General said sheepishly.  “Sorry if I was short before.”

“Sure.”  Freya swept her cloak aside and sat at the table as the rest of the group took their seats, and the skjalds discreetly closed the door behind them.  “I do feel welcomed.  This is hardly my first homecoming, of course,” she added with a tilt of the head.

“Naturally.”  Redwind was still speaking Juvjk.  “Perhaps you could share your own tales with the other Brothers at a later date, but for tonight, we thought you might want to ease back into the routine,” he continued.

“Of course,” Freya said, again in Gothic.

Redwind paused as the skjalds returned with the food.  “Do you not speak conversational Juvjk, Sister?” he asked cautiously.

Freya replied in that language.  “I’m entirely fluent, Lord-Brother, but I didn’t cross the sea of stars with my closest friends to speak in a language they don’t understand,” she said, with an undercurrent of instruction to her words.

Redwind nodded contrition.  “Of course, my apologies,” switching back to his accented, but understandable, Gothic.  Jake eyed the two officers sitting nervously at the other end of the table.

“Afternoon, gentlemen,” he offered.

“Good afternoon…I’m sorry, Lord Seager, was it?” one asked.  “General Anton Bletcher, Sixth Grand Army Group.  This is Lieutenant General Yusuf Mustafa, Ninth Army Group,” he said, introducing himself and his companion, who merely nodded respectfully.

“No ‘Lord’ in there, but yes.  Jake works,” he said.  “We’re out from Terra via Nocturne.”

“A home tour, sir?” Mustafa asked.

“Well, we’re from all over, but we went to school together on Terra until a few months ago,” Jake explained.  Rising sounds from the Fenrisian end of the table necessitated he speak up.  “We’re here for the next…hmm, twenty six days.”

“Indeed?  Afraid we’ll only be here another few days ourselves,” Bletcher said.  “Some of this job you just can’t do through couriers and Astropaths, you know.”

“Security risks, of course.”  Jake dug into his own steak with enthusiasm.  “You just might run into some friends of ours out there in the black, sirs.”

“Pardon?” Mustafa asked.

“We’ve got some friends who enlisted after school,” Remilia supplied.

“Oh?  Good for them.  Do you know what section?” Bletcher asked over his drink.

“Well, let’s see…Andrew was talking about Praetor Field Artillery.  Julius was talking Geno or the Janizars,” Venus said, thinking it over.  “Hana, of course, is just going to go home,” she chuckled.  “And poor Julius is probably getting a taste of it right now.”  She noted Bletcher’s raised brow.  “He was travelling from Terra to Ultramar via Seadelant when…well.”

“Ah.”  Neither General felt the need to continue.

Alex, meanwhile, was trying not to stare too hard at the display of Redwind tearing through his steak.  Even Freya was more sedate.  “So, Freya…” Alex said, looking for a distraction.  “What’s on the agenda for tomorrow?”

“Hmmm…I was thinking we go seize that rock-climbing idea,” Freya said.  “There’s a stable range of basalt pillars around here, we had a small training camp out there before we relocated it.  We’ve got heaps of climbing gear, some of it rated to cargo-hauler levels.  We could go scale the pillars.”

“Sounds like a lot of fun,” Alex said.

“I love it.  First thing I do when I go to a new gym is try the climbing wall,” Remilia proclaimed.  “It’s always fun.  The hive skins on Inwit were rough instead of being smoothed over like on Terra, so climbing the hive walls is something people used to do for fun back home.  Even Mom was a climber when she was my age.”

Freya downed a cup of her honey mead.  “Really?  Never knew that.  Where did you climb on Terra?”

“Oh, the Public Center in Startseite.  I’m just a bit out of practice.”  Remilia sighed.  “Might have to take it a bit slow.”

“I’m a little out of practice myself, but I’d love to go climbing.”  Venus stared into the dusky orange mead in her glass, turning it the color of a sunset over the walls back on Nocturne.  “I should make sure to write home tonight,” she said to Jake.  “I forgot to write when we arrived.”

Redwind paused his consumption long enough to address her.  “Then please send your messages to the Star-speakers Temple, milady, not the system Astropaths,” he said.  “The system Astropaths are way out in the Oort cloud, on a relay station.  Messages can take days to arrive.  The Star-speakers are here in the Fang.”

“Sure thing, thanks,” Venus said.  “Is there a cap on message length?”

“I haven’t the faintest idea,” Redwind said.  “Do speak to their liaison.”

After the meal concluded, the five teens made ready to leave, when Redwind held them up.  “One thing, Sister,” he said, as the other four rose with thanks for the meal.

“What is it?” Freya asked, her hand on the armrest.

Redwind switched back to Juvjk.  “Please understand that any involvement with the Legionary Brothers beyond tomorrow night is at their discretion.  You’re welcome in your own home, obviously…but your friends will not understand.”

“I know,” Freya said.  This time, she was using Juvjk too.  “They’ll be all right with it.  We did the same thing on Venus’ world,” she said.

“Very well.”  Redwind paused to offer the small group a befanged smile.  “Now, do enjoy your stay, so long as you don’t get too near the Thunderwolf pens,” he said evenly.  Nobody was quite sure if he was kidding, save Freya, who kept it to herself with a hidden grin.