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

==A Better Day==


===It Wasn't a Blank===


As the sun rose the next morning, and the five returned from their workout, Freya halted Alex in their room.  “Babe, do you want to go back to the hot spring today?” she asked.

Alex paused, one hand on the doorframe.  “Sure,” he said, wiping a bead of water out of his eyes.  “When do the others wanna go?”

“I mean you and me,” Freya said.  Alex smiled.

“Yeah…that sounds good,” he said.  “When do we leave?”

“After lunch, no hurry,” she said, flopping down on the bed.  “I spoke to the others after we finished that…abomination of a movie last night, and they’re just gonna check out the firing range today anyway.”

“Is Jake going to be alright?” Alex asked.

“He should be fine, Venus isn’t worried,” Freya said.  “Nice of you to be concerned, though.”

Alex shrugged.  “I gotta say, I didn’t have a whole lot of time for him at school, but he’s good people.”

“And he makes Venus feel like she belongs,” Freya agreed.  She sat up.  “All right…do me a favor before we go, and go grab those towels from before?  I need to arrange transport with Bjorn.”

“Sure,” Alex said, making for the door.

Shortly after lunch, the two were over the ice fields at two klicks, with a pair of Blood Claws providing a discreet escort.  Freya had insisted that they would go with only a small guard detachment, though how much of that was just rationality or lingering embarrassment, Alex couldn’t tell.

As they headed away, Remilia led the others down to the Fang’s massive basement firing ranges.  Equipped with ear covers to protect them from their own lack of Lyman’s ears, the trio arrived at the cavernous room and stared.  From the catwalk overlooking the room, presumably in place to allow Wolf Priests to observe training Aspirants, the channels and lanes looked like rain trenches.  There were already wide puddles of brass in some lanes from skjalds and Blood Claws practicing with buck and slug guns.

“Too cool,” Venus commented into her baffled mic.

“Wonder where they put in Power Weapon training?” Remilia asked, staring at the rows and rows of firing lanes.

“There was a second floor,” Venus pointed out.

A skjald walked up behind them and brushed a fingertip over the microphone in his helmet to draw their attention.  “My Lord, Princesses, welcome to my range,” the elderly skjald said.  The elaborate red and blue marks on his shirtsleeves marked him as the facility rangemaster.  “I’m honored by your patronage,” he continued, bowing deeply.

“Thank you for having us, sir,” Remilia replied.  “You may rest assured that we know how important firing practice is for a Space Marine.  We’re flattered that you would allow us to train with you.”

“Too kind, Princess Dorn,” the rangemaster said, directing them back down to the ground level.  “What would you like to try today, your Highnesses?”

Venus piped up.  “Well…I’m the mood for some pistol, if you happen to have one calibrated for teenagers,” she said with a hint of humor in her voice.

“Certainly, the kaerl sidearm range it is,” the rangemaster said.  The group reached the cement floor, scuffed by millennia of passing boots, and halted in front of an armor locker, where an alert-looking skjald with lean, waspish features eagerly checked out three shiny black pistols.  Jake looked at it a bit askance, but the krakenspawn incident had well convinced him that maybe dating the daughter of a Primarch involved some small risks.

Running through the center of the colossal range was a conveyor belt, reminding Jake incongruously of a people-mover like the ones he had seen in the civil starports of Clymene.  They rode one past rows of skjalds and even some Wolves, practicing their marksmanship, until at last they arrived at their destination: a trio of small booths.  Remilia grabbed the box of ammunition the rangemaster handed her and slid a magazine home, testing the weapon’s balance.

“Hmm.  Venus, where do you think this is from?” she asked.

Venus glanced over her own weapon.  “Mars.  See the two tiny divots in the metal under the safety?”

“Those aren’t traction marks?” Remilia asked.

“Nope.  Mars has two moons, right?  Phobos and Deimos.  That’s them.  It’s the stamp the Mars forges use when they don’t have enough space to stamp a full embossing,” Venus said.  “Half the welding shit in my basement has it, I’d know it blind.”

“Cool.”  Remilia racked the slide, ejected her mag, slipped another slug into the mag, and reclosed it, as Venus showed Jake how to do the same.

“So, you put the other round in so that your first mag has an extra shot in it,” Venus explained.  “Barely matters with, say, an anti-materiel rifle, but with a weapon that fires in bursts it could be the difference-maker.”

“Yep,” Jake said.  “Most good video games let you do that, too,” he said.  He coughed self-consciously.  “Not that they compare to real experience, naturally, but still.”

Venus grinned to herself.  “Uh huh.”

“My Dad said he cooked off a few rounds when he lived on Mars, but he found it to be too boring and dangerous as a hobby, especially once he started thinking about kids,” Jake said.  He hefted his pistol and switched off the safety.  “So uh…”

“Not yet!” Venus cautioned him.  “You wait for that blue light over the lane.  Fire before then and you get thrown out on your ass.”

“Oh?”

“It’s the ‘warning’ light, it means someone’s clearing brass from their lane,” Remilia put it.  “Ricochets kill.”

Jake nodded, somewhat intimidated.  “All right.”  Venus and Remilia moved to their own lanes and took up positions.  The light flashed blue, and three muzzles rose to address the targets.  Jake squeezed the trigger on his pistol.  The flash and recoil shocked him, making him blink and flinch.  “Shit,” he muttered under his breath.  “This is hard…” he looked up at the target and didn’t see a mark on it.  “Aaaand I suck at it.”  He glanced down at the pistol.  “Venus, any tips?” he asked over the mic.

Venus glanced around the partition.  “Yeah, use both hands,” she said.

Jake gripped the pistol with both hands, clumsily meshing his fingers over the plastic grip and firing.  This time, he managed to cut the white paper around the human outline.  “Hmm.  Little better,” he said.

The light over the range turned off.  Jake blinked.  “That was fast,” he said.  He had fired two of the eighteen rounds in the pistol.

Venus stepped around the partition and glanced over his stance.  “Hmm.  Next round, I’ll stand with you, see what your stance looks like.”

Jake chuckled.  “I wonder how that will look to the Wolves, to see their guest learning how to shoot from a girl,” he said with an air of resignation.

“Yeah, nobody in here ever learned from a Primarch,” Venus said drily.  She stood behind him and gently realigned his hands with the grip as the light came back on.  “Try this…”

===A Good Soak (Part Two)===


Alex stepped off the ramp of the Thunderhawk as Freya returned from the cave.  “It’s clear, the water purifier’s working,” she reported.
He followed her back in, fumbling in the bag for a flashlight.  He flicked it on, illuminating the walls of the cave.  “All right…let’s change,” he said, setting the bag down near the water’s edge.  Freya ignited some torches and put them in the well-worn sconces as Alex disrobed.  As he started to slip into the water, though, she glanced back.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

Alex hesitated.  “Uh, getting in the water.” he said.

“Well, yeah, but why are you still wearing that?” she asked, pointing at his boxers.  “You expecting to get interrupted?  I’m not,” she said, running a hand over the cloak she had draped over her Fenrisian outfit.

Alex felt his blood pick up a bit.  “Wouldn’t want to get my underwear wet, I suppose,” he said, shucking them and clambering into the water.

Freya slid her cloak off and removed her own clothes, then sat down beside him, letting him slide an arm around her shoulders.  “Mmmm…” she sighed luxuriously.  “Remilia was right, people pay a fortune for this back home,” she said.

Alex closed his eyes and rested his head on hers.  “Yeah…can’t find this on Terra.”

Freya gently pulled away from him and cricked her back where she had been leaning over.  “Alex, I want to thank you,” she said.

“For what?”

“I know this trip has been rough on you,” Freya said, her green animal eyes appearing as tiny discs in the light.  “I’m glad you haven’t let it get to you.”

“In front of the others, anyway?” Alex asked tiredly.

“Yeah.”  Freya undid her braids and let the hair fall into the water beside her.  She sank down into the steamy pool up to her collarbone.  “But even after all the shit you’ve been through, you’re still Alex.”

“I don’t want to ruin things for the rest of you,” he said.

She nodded, eyes shut.  “I know.”  She smiled up at him.  “That’s part of the reason I love you.”

The faint sound of water dripping out of the pool into the adjacent one and the faint burning of the torches were the only sounds Alex could hear.  He sank back against the rock walls and spread his arms over the rim to balance.  “Thanks, baby.”  He sighed.  “It meant a lot that you were there when Dad…threw me away.”

“I just…I dunno.”  Freya sat up a bit.  “I want to understand more about why he did it.  It baffles me.  And to phrase it like a choice like that, of college or the fleet…I’ll be honest, it doesn’t really sound like he outright disowned you.”

“I know it doesn’t,” Alex said heavily.  “But that’s the effect of it.  I told him outright that I had no interest in running his little empire of graverobbers when I was old enough to understand what they really did.  I said to his face I was going to play rugby and go to college and get a job that didn’t leave the stink of corpses in my nose when I went off to Imperator and got my scholarship.  He was more surprised than anything.  I half-think he was expecting me to be proud of him or something.  Asshole.”

“The instinct to impress your children is a strong one,” Freya said quietly.  “Do you think he’ll ever change his mind?”

“He can’t, the worthless old bastard,” Alex grumbled.  “He did it in front of an audience, you see, including you.  He can’t take it back.  His pride can’t allow it.  He did the exact same thing to me that he did to Mom, and now she’s moving out of the house.”

Freya reached out and caressed his hand on the lip of the pool.  “I’m sorry, baby.  I wish I could make it better.”

“You did, those were the best two hours of my life,” Alex joked weakly.  Freya managed a small smile, but the deeply empathetic girl could see the raw wound in his heart.  “But the fact that you changed your college plans to stay with me…god…”  He closed his eyes.

She sat back down next to him and held his hand on her near shoulder, looking up at him.  “Well…you know, I have forever to go back to school.  Spending time with you is more important.”

Alex nodded.  “Thanks.”

They sat in silence for quite some time, letting the water’s heat soak into them and melt their problems away.


Jake slid his magazine out and replaced it, sweeping his brass into a bag.  “Hmm.  At least I’m hitting the taget now,” he said.  Venus slid her arms around him and adjusted his grip again, eyeing his hands.

“Try feathering the trigger instead of jerking it like that,” she suggested.  “You can feel the break on the trigger, so you don’t need to manhandle it.”

“All right.”  The light turned blue and Jake fired again, sending a slug through the human outline in the torso.  “Progress!” he said cheerfully.

Remilia’s target showed a single broad hole in the forehead, through which she had somehow put around four magazines of eighteen slugs each.  “I forgot how satisfying this can be,” she said.  She emptied her magazine into the target again, and the hole didn’t get any wider.  “I used to hit the ranges with Dad back in the day.  I was always terrible at it.”

“Where did you even go?” Jake asked, setting his gun down.  His hands were protesting.  “There were no ranges in Startseite.”

“No, but there was one in the PDF garrison in the very very top of the hive spire four klicks south of the city,” Remilia said.  “Dad wanted me to learn how to shoot.”

“You’re better than me,” Venus said, glancing over her own target.  She had only fired two magazines, spending the rest of the time coaching Jake.  Her target had a smattering of holes in the head and heart region, nowhere near as neat as Remilia’s.  “I’m way out of practice.”

Jake glanced over into her lane.  “Firing that Conflagrator is probably the extent of it, huh?”

“Oh yeah.”  Venus walked back to her land and cleared the chamber, sliding a fresh magazine home.  She raised her gun and fired, sending a few more rounds to pierce the target’s heart.


Freya rose from the water to dig a small water-sealed package out of her bag.  Alex admired her shapely backside as she rooted around.  “Ah hah, I see it,” she said.  She sat back down in the water and passed him the little plastic container.  “Eat up,” she said.

Alex extracted a small muffin.  “Cool, thanks,” he said, chowing down.  Freya took her own and put the package away.  “Never eaten in the bath before,” Alex chuckled.

Freya licked her fingers and splashed crumbs away.  “All right.  Thanks for being open with me, baby, I know it hurt to talk about.”

He nodded.  “Well…I don’t blame you.  But…I want to ask you something too.”

“What’s up?” Freya asked.

“Well…we talked about pack instinct and all that before,” Alex reminded her.  “But I don’t really understand all of it.  I mean, in regard to your family.  I can count the number of times I’ve met your mother on one hand.”

“So just tell you more about them?” Freya asked.

“Well, sort of,” Alex said.  “I just want to know them better.  I mean…your Dad’s a PRIMARCH.  Can you tell me more about him, his role in the Imperium?  I just feel like I don’t know them at all.”  He shrugged.  “I’d like to.”

Freya nodded.  “Well, my grandparents on my mother’s side work for the Houses of the Navigators,” she said.  “You knew that though.  Uh…well, Dad still leads the Legion since he found out he sucked at politics.  He’s on Luna a lot, liaising with the senior guys in the Navy and Expeditionary forces.”

“That’s cool.  Have you ever been to Luna?” Alex asked.

“Sure have.  It’s kinda boring.  The atmo shields are lowered unless they’re running a drill, so you’re stuck in the bunkers.”  She shrugged.  “I should take you some time.”

“I’d like that,” Alex said.  He scooted over to sit next to his girlfriend.  “Your Mom always seemed to like me more than your Dad did.”

Freya shrugged, sending her ample breasts swaying in the torchlight.  “Mom likes you a lot, but Dad just doesn’t like that I’m old enough to be dating.  He always thinks of me as his little girl.”

“I bet most of the Primarchs do that,” Alex said.  “When you’re that old, you know?”

Freya laughed.  “Probably.”  She leaned back and thought.  “Dad wanted to keep at the Crusade, I know.  He thinks there’s too much of the area inside the Astronomican’s projection range unexplored.  I kinda agree, but after we were born…he learned to love being a Dad.  He spent a lot more time with me when I was a kid, too; I know I’ve said he brought me home to Fenris several times.  Only Miranda’s been off of Earth more than I have.”

She slid her hands through her hair and idly worked one lock into a braid.  “Hmm…what else do you want to know?”

“What does your…pack instinct or whatever you call it…feel around your cousins?” Alex asked.

Freya slowly twisted her hair as she thought that over.  “Hmmm…it’s…complex.  Miranda and Remilia feel like…little sisters more than anything else.  Venus’ sense is more like a pack-mate, someone I can trust.  She’s a mediator, you know?  Like Angela is.”

She continued.  “Isis is like a an older sister, she’s the one who looks after the rest of us.  I mean, that’s a human thing too, but it’s a common instinct that way,” she said.  “Sorry, this probably sounds weird.”

“No, I think I get it.  What do you feel towards Kelly?  I remember you were pretty torn up when she went to the hospital,” Alex said.

“She’s hurting, baby,” Freya sighed.  “She’s really scared of the future.  She was getting better by graduation.  And, hmm…Furia too.  I know she was thinking of heading off to college after graduation, I never thought she would be.  She’s getting better too.”

“Yeah.”  Alex nodded.  “You have a great family, Freya.”

“You’re part of it, whether it’s for the next four years or however long we’re together,” Freya said with a smile.

Alex felt a little thrill of excitement as she said it.  “Really?  That’s…really flattering,” he said.

Freya leaned against his shoulder and smiled as his body reacted to that.  “It’s the best,” she said softly.  “I feel like I belong when I’m with my family.  Like I can let my guard down.  It’s…smaller of a sense than when I’m with the Rout, but it’s there.  I feel like they all have roles to play, and me too.”

“So where do I fit in?” Alex asked, feeling his heart pick up a bit more.

Freya snorted at the question.  “Didn’t I make it clear when I pulled you out of Amber Gainner’s thieving claws?” she asked drily.  She leaned even farther sideways, until he wrapped his arms around her stomach.  She looked up at him and grinned, fierce and happy.  The flickering torchlight reflected as a rippling gold in her eyes.  Her bared fangs and wet red hair glinted in the light.  “You’re my mate.”

Alex smiled.

She held his gaze, and her free hand slid up to grip his chin.  She pulled him into an impassioned kiss, which he returned with equal parts hunger and relief.  She very deliberately placed one leg over his and pushed the cleft of her butt back against him as she broke the kiss.  “I think…” she whispered sensuously.  “That for…a few minutes…I can stop being nervous about my Brothers’…senses of smell,” she said, running both hands behind her back, down to stroke him where he was already hard as the rock they were sitting on.

“Up against the wall of the cavern,” he ordered roughly, half-lifting her out of the water and turning her around.  She splayed her hands over the steam-smoothed stone.

“To start with,” she growled back.

She moaned in anticipation as he parted her and started thrusting.  The tension and lingering anger in Alex vanished as he held her to the wall and mated with her, shattering the doubt that had been holding him by the throat since Nocturne.  Freya gasped her approval as the desire and lust he had been keeping in check since they came in range of the Fang broke free.


===Overprotective Brothers===


Some while later, dried and dressed, both teens were sitting cross-legged on the top of the hollowed rocks and snow.  Alex was back in the full thermo suit, now, complete with sealed mask and gloves.  He was holding magnoculars to his eyes, watching the storm front approach.  It was as broad as the horizon, and as high as the tropopause.  Flurries of hailstones the size of fruit were hurtling about within.  The higher reaches of the cloud were ablaze with forking lightning that left afterimages in his eyes and made him blink behind his mask’s lenses.

Alex slid the magnoculars back into his equipment pouches and stared at the approaching stormhead.  The Thunderhawk was en route to them, they would be well and gone before the storm arrived.

“It’s amazing,” Alex said quietly.

Freya nodded in silence.

The black clouds swirled closer, with the faintest of susurrus of thunder rolling in.  Freya sat up.  “There’s a snow-cat coming, from across the frozen lake,” she said, her voice barely above the wind.  “It’s seen us, but keeping its distance.

Alex looked back.  Sure enough, there was the tiniest mound of white on the frozen water where there hadn’t been before.  He switched his mask’s optics to polarize the light and the blob refined itself a bit.  “Are we safe?” he asked.

“Not if we were human,” Freya said softly.  Alex glanced back at her.  Her irises and retina bled together in an inhuman green through his optics.  “Luckily…I’m not,” she said.  She wasn’t smiling.

“And you’re all right with that?” Alex asked, just to make sure.

Now she did smile.  “I am.  And that’s good news for you,” she said, her voice turning a bit husky.

Alex tilted his head in silent question.  Freya reached over and gently pushed against his sternum until he fell back a bit.  She leaned over him on all fours and nuzzled his mask.  “Wolves protect their mates,” she whispered.  She rose from her crouch, and Alex heard the faint rasp of metal on leather as she drew her pistol and chambered a slug.

The cat didn’t move, just staring at the two of them, until the gunship settled down beside them and it bolted away.  Freya and Alex clambered in, and the gunship lifted, flying back to the Fang.

Alex settled down on a bench at the end of the row and peeled his mask off.  Freya curled up on the bench next to him and rested her head in his lap, letting her long hair spill out over the thermo outfit Alex was wearing.  She pulled her cloak off and draped it over herself like a blanket as she lay there, shutting her eyes to catch a quick nap.

The two Wolves on the opposite bench looked at each other askance, but said nothing.  Alex pulled his hood back and ruffled his hair to get the tangles out, then slowly ran his fingers through her thick red mane.

“What does our Sister mean to you, Lord Carlin?” the Blood Claw across from them asked.

Alex didn’t answer right away.  He just stroked her hair, thinking.  When he spoke, it was slow and deliberate.  “I love her.  We make each other happy.”

“Pardon my bluntness, Lord, but that’s a fun time, not meaning,” the Claw said.  Alex glared at him.  The Astartes continued, unabashed.  “What do you want from her?”

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing asking me that?” Alex snarled, trying not to wake her.

“I want to know who my sister is sleeping with, literally and metaphorically,” the Claw said, even as the other Claw looked at him in surprise and unease.

“Well, if love isn’t enough, then I guess I’m not good enough, am I?” Alex asked bitterly.  “Now you shut the hell up.”

The Claw tightened one fist for a moment.  “I have every right to worry about my sister, human,” the Claw said darkly.

“And she called me her mate,” Alex said in the same tone.  “If that’s not enough for you, open a vein.”  The gunship’s hold went silent, save the sound of engines, as the two Claws stared at him, before the talkative one finally relented.

“I…apologize if I have overstepped, your Lordship,” he said, before turning his gaze down to his weapons and falling quiet.

Alex scoffed.  “Yes, you did,” he said darkly, and went back to watching Freya sleep in his lap.


===The King===


Over the next several days, Alex sensed a definite change in the behavior of the Wolves towards him and the other guests.  Him especially.  Less and less were they treated as guests only reluctantly.  At a few of their smaller dinners in the conference room that they had used with Lord Redwind, other Wolves had attended, either just to check in with Freya or to speak with the offworlders, and they even spoke in Gothic most of the time.  Whether he had passed some secret test in the Thunderhawk or something else was in play, he didn’t know, but the change was a welcome one.

They continued their exploration of the Fang, with Freya acting as a guide.  She and the others made a habit of visiting the range, as well, and with Venus’ coaching, both boys picked it up well.  Alex especially gained an appreciation for it; he spent a few consecutive days at the massive range, branching from solid shot to lasweapons under Freya’s watchful eye.

After nearly a week of stalling, Alex finally sent the message he had recorded for his mother.  It felt like as much a self-fulfilling curse as anything, but at least, he reflected, he had something to come back to now.

Bjorn, however, had become rather secretive in the time after they arrived.  It was his right as the presiding Wolf Lord to whatever he pleased, of course, but he started limited his time even with Freya after a few days of normal interaction.  He seemed obsessed with preparing for something, and Freya speculated with a heavy heart that yet another Great Company might be about to receive mobilization orders.

As it happened, however, that was not the case.  One afternoon, less than a week before they departed Fenris, the quintet was sitting in one of the lounges for the skjalds.  The small but well-loved room had become the preferred hangout of the group.  With a small bar against one wall and a constant stream of coming and going personnel, they never ran out of people to talk to.

At that moment, however, the group was watching a poker match between Jake, Freya, and one of the skjalds.  Alex was reading over his slate on one couch, glad that his mother’s response hadn’t come.  Remilia and Venus were watching the game, their eyes darting back and forth like they were watching tennis.  Freya was sitting with her back to the door.  The skjald and Jake were sitting across from her in a triangle, and the piles of chips in front of them favored the skjald by a degree that unnerved both teens.  The dour-looking warrior hadn’t said a word during the whole game, so deep was his concentration.

“See your sixty, raise you twenty,” Freya said, chipping in.

The skjald hesitated, then slid in his own twenty as Jake dropped out.  Both put down their cards and Freya breathed a sigh of relief: her straight edged his three of a kind.

The skjald grunted and swigged his brew.  Jake cleaned up the cards and shuffled.  “You sure you guys don’t want to play?” he asked the girls.

“Count me out, the kind of statistics you people can do in your heads blow my fucking mind,” Venus confessed.

“‘You people,’” Jake said drily.  “Mm hmm.  Venus, if you can teach me to shoot, I can teach you to play poker.”

Freya yawned and sipped at her water.  “What’s your vocation, sir?” she asked the skjald, in Gothic.

“Saerbis,” the skjald replied in Juvjk.

“So our guests can understand?” Freya asked.

“I don’t speak Gothic,” the man said in his own tongue.  “Poker is a universal language anyway,” he added, taking his cards.

“Mmm.”  Freya translated.  “Saerbis means rifle trainer, basically.  So he teaches the Fang guards in longrifle shooting.”

“Ah.”  Jake picked up his own cards and chipped in a healthy bet.  “I’m in for forty,” he said.

The change was instantaneous.  The ambient noise in the room died down so fast, it was as if the atmosphere was gone.  Venus and Remilia both glanced over at the door, their faces identical masks of shock and dawning delight.  The skjalds in the room all stopped what they were doing and rose to their feet, saluting or kneeling in silence.  On the couch, Alex swallowed sudden nerves and struggled up, only to bow.

Freya, Jake noted through his surprise and nerves, was sitting stock-still, save a slow clenching of her shoulders and widening of her eyes.  She was shocked, her hands white on the table.  Very slowly, she turned, just to confirm what her nose and ears were already telling her, with sensations she would have known in a coma.

A large, scarred hand on her shoulder arrested her progress.  She glanced up at the man it was attached to.

“Hello, Freya,” Leman Russ said, smiling broadly.  “How’s your trip been?”

“DAD!” Freya squealed, launching herself out of her chair and into her father’s arms.  “When did you get here?” she demanded, burying her face in his cheek and hugging him tight.

He sank into a crouch so she wouldn’t have to lean.  “Fifty minutes ago,” he said.  “I’ll be here the next month.”

“Awesome!” she said happily, turning to the others with an ecstatic grin.  “Guys, Dad’s here!” she proclaimed.

“So he is,” Venus said, rising to her feet and giving him a hug too.  “Good to see you, Uncle Leman.”  Remilia followed suit.

“Yourselves also, you two,” Leman said.  His eyes lit upon Alex and Jake.  “Gents.”

“Your Highness,” Jake said, bowing low.  Alex rose from his own bow with a somewhat nervous feeling in his stomach, but he mustered a smile.

“So what brings you home?” Freya asked.

“Well, I could bullshit you and say I just wanted to hang out with my daughter and her friends,” the Primarch sighed.  “I mean…it would be true, but it would be bullshit.  The fact of the matter is, the Emperor’s enemies don’t give a toss about my vacation schedule, and every so often I have to go put them in their places.”

“Spread over some distance and unmoving?” Venus asked drily.

“Quite.”  Leman ruffled his daughter’s hair.  “I’m here to drop off about six hundred Tartaros Sevens and perform some other…more personal duties,” he said.  “And consecrate the new ships.”

“What ships?” Freya asked, glancing up at her father with a curious glance.

Leman shrugged.  “Saturnine shipyards are catching up on that backlogged order from when they went offline for upgrades a few years ago.  Several new Quicksilver class patrol frigates came off the lines at the same time, so they distributed them more or less evenly to the Legions.”

Freya nodded.  “Well…I’m glad we got to see you, Dad, I was afraid you wouldn’t be home when we went back to Terra!”  She was bouncing from foot to foot in her excitement.  Venus had to smile.

Leman straightened back up.  “I’ll swing by your rooms before dinner, I wanted to talk to you all about your trip before I dive headfirst into the small ocean of paper in my office,” he said with another sigh.  He glanced down at the skjalds who had been standing by since he arrived.  “As you were,” he said, walking out.

Alex sank back onto the couch, sighing.  Freya was practically vibrating with excitement.  For a moment, Alex allowed himself to wonder what it felt like to look forward to seeing your father that much.

“That was…unexpected,” Venus said, sitting back down.

“I know, right?” Freya said happily.  “I was so nervous that he’d be coming here when we were going home, and we’d just miss each other!”

“If you wanna go, go,” Remilia said, looking meaningfully at the door.

Freya bit her lip, fidgeting.  Venus leaned over and picked up her cards, setting them down next to the deck.  “Go,” she said.

Freya nodded.  “All right,” she said, rising to her feet and following her father.

Out in the hall, she spotted her father, parting the throngs of warriors and servants effortlessly, taking the occasional moment to greet old friends and familiar faces with a solemn nod or joking greeting as necessary.  She tailed him at a distance until he paused at a lift.  She hurried up to him and waited expectantly.

He glanced down, feigning surprise.  “Freya?”

“Dad, do you have a minute to just talk?” she asked.

“About what?”

“Just…stuff.  So much has happened since I saw you last,” Freya said.

Leman smiled, kneeling to stroke his daughter’s cheek.  “After what you told me about Alex’s father torpedoing your vacation, I would feel bad if I dragged you away from it.  Go,” he said, rising back to his feet.  “Go school your friends and servants at cards, I promise I’ll swing by before dinner,” he added, stepping into the lift.

Back in the lounge, several of the skjalds – mainly the younger ones, who had presumably never seen him before – were looking rather shellshocked.  Jake, who had, ironically enough, met him several times, swept up the cards, sensing that nobody was interested at continuing the game, and to avoid losing any more than he already had.

Freya walked back in, diminished but still clearly happy.  “We’ll just see him at dinner.”

“Cool.”  Venus clambered to her feet.  “What do you want to do before then?”

“I want to go and yell at Bjorn for keeping this a secret,” Freya grumbled, “but that wouldn’t be smart.  Let’s just go get ready, huh?  I’m too nervous to do anything else,” she said with a weak grin.  “Actually, that’s not fair, you guys go do whatever you want, I shouldn’t press nerves on you guys,” she said.

“Naw, that’s fine,” Remilia said.

Jake turned to his opponent and shook his hand, collecting his chips.  “Thanks for the game.”

===In the Wolf King's Eyes===


Above, Russ settled into his throne in the holotank room, as Redwind and Bjorn bowed low to their King.  “Father Russ, welcome home,” Redwind said.

“Rise, brothers.  Speak to me of your plan,” Leman said, leaning forward as he did.

Bjorn spoke.  “The camps yield your sons, of course…but the problems remain.”

“Of course,” Russ growled.  He leaned back in his seat, sounding disgusted.  “And the deployments?"

“Well enough, Lord,” Redwind replied.  “Two officers of the Army were here a while ago reporting in on their own roles in the deployment.  It seems smooth enough…but we haven’t mobilized on this scale in a very long time.”

“No,” Russ agreed.  “How did First get off?”

“Very fast, fortunately enough,” Bjorn said, again hiding his irritation.  “Sending that many Dreadnoughts off at once…it was a logistical nightmare.  Fortunately, the Iron Priests were prepared.”

“Good.”  Russ peered over at his ancient friend.  “Something else troubles you.”

“It does, King Leman,” Bjorn grumbled.  “We’re wasting time.  It’s been too long since we took the fight TO the green filth.  We can defend against their raids, sure, but then we start losing worlds when we’re not close enough.  We have outposts ninety thousand light years from Terra, but we can’t keep control of a single trade lane in the Ultramarines’ back yard?” he asked coldly.  “Someone is at fault for this.”

Russ let his eyes narrow a bit.  “And at whose feet,” he asked quietly, “do you lay the blame?”

“The Navy,” Bjorn answered instantly, with Redwind nodding in silent assent to his mentor’s words.  “They simply aren’t doing enough to hold and expand the territory we sacrificed four millennia to take.”

The Wolf King regarded his advisors with a sense of surprise stealing through him.  Bjorn’s words so closely echoed his own, to the Emperor a mere month before, that he felt honestly taken aback.

He slowly rose from his throne, pacing around the holotank.  The empty space below filled with light as he approached, showing the colossal web of ‘safe’ Warp routes through which the Chartist Captains and Rogue Traders and Explorators hawked their wares, hauled their goods, wove their deals, and explored the galaxy.  Clearly, from its presence, this had been a topic of some discussion in the Council of late.

“I see,” Russ said slowly.  He looked over at where his two Lords were staring at him, unmoving.  “I do not…disagree…” he said, his voice trailing off a bit.  He looked down into the tank and picked out four small runes around an intersection of two trade lanes: suspected Hrud nests.  A black sphere nearby bespoke the alleged presence of a Webway Gate the Dark Eldar had only recently reactivated.

Threats.  Slowly, the dark places on the map were filling with them.  Once, ancient Terran mariners had filled the blankness of their sea-charts with depictions of horrible beasts, to represent to the ignorant the dangers of exploring the unknown.  How prophetic of them it had been in this instance.
“Brothers, your words are familiar,” Russ finally said, speaking quietly, and standing stock-still.  His eyes – perhaps the best in the human race after his fathers’ – picked over the map, searching for a foe he could reach out and crush.  An enemy neck, to test his blades upon, a target he could break for his father’s will…a danger he could undo to make the world a little bit safer for his beloved wife and beautiful daughter.

“They are my words,” he finally said.  “I said the exact same thing to the All-Father, less than four weeks ago.  Even the bit about the Navy being…inadequate.”

Redwind blinked in surprise.  Bjorn smirked in vindication.

“I told Freya when I arrived that the new Saturnine Fleet vessels would be distributed amongst the Legions, and I spoke the truth,” Russ said.  “What I did not say was that those vessels will be IMMEDIATELY staffed and crewed by Titanian and Martian crewers the Emperor and Horus handpicked, and dispatched to reinforce the Warp lanes around the Legionary homeworlds the instant they are consecrated,” he finished, emphasis raising the tone of his voice.  “And the rest of the Solar shipyards will be doing the same.  We will divert tithes if we must: the shipyards of Segmentum Solar will not fall quiet ever again.”

“What do you mean, Father?” Redwind asked.  Bjorn’s smile turned toothy as comprehension dawned.

“I mean that the Emperor agreed with me.  Horus, Sanguinius, Rogal and I approached the Emperor with a plan to expand the Imperium’s borders…but do so within our existing borders,” Russ said, looking down into the tank once more.  Less than twenty nine percent of the galaxy within the Astronomican’s range was under human control, less than fifty percent of the galaxy total.

“So…you mean, then, to fortify the existing inter-Segmentum trade and transit lines…then push outward from worlds on their course?” Redwind asked, his Astartes mind deriving his master’s intent.

Russ gave him a nod of mixed pride and bloodthirsty approval.  “Very good, Ackur, very good,” he said.

Redwind nodded to acknowledge the compliment.

Bjorn spoke again.  “So Earth and the Legionary homeworlds will be the hubs of this expansion?”

“Not exactly.”  Russ turned to gesture at the map.  “The Segmentum Solar is the physically smallest Segmentum, yet it contains the largest number of Forge Worlds by twenty percent more than Ultima.  Why?  Because the Martians didn’t always have FTL drives as fast as the ones we have now.  The galaxy’s industrial core is there because that’s where Mars is.  So the Forge Worlds of the Segmentum Solar will all be the hubs of this drive inwards…and the Legionary home worlds will be the lynchpins, the points from which the elite troops and intelligence-gathering services muster.”

“Just like the Crusade,” Redwind said, comprehension dawning.

“Bulls-eye,” Russ growled.  “The Solar Expansion will see every dark place on the map explored.  I have no love for the Eldar, but even they see the wisdom of this plan; I’m told the Emperor contacted Ulthwé and Alaitoc with this idea and they gave their enthusiastic approval.”

“What the hell for?” Bjorn asked curtly.

“Apparently, there are many unaccounted-for Webway portals and Exodite worlds within the theoretical boundaries of human space,” Russ said.

Bjorn shook his head.  “No, I mean why do we care what the Eldar think?  All the craftworlds are migrating out to where Ultran’s making his little fortress, out in the Ghoul Stars.”

Russ snorted.  “I couldn’t give a thundering fuck what they think.  But the Emperor flat-out told me that the Eldar want the expanding Hrud and Ork threats inside Imperial space neutralized for the safety of their ancestral cousins, and that so long as we don’t attempt to colonize any of the Maiden Worlds, they may even lend us their starmaps, thus saving us incalculable amounts of money.  They did colonize this galaxy first, after all…and they’ve re-explored less than a hundredth of the colony worlds they lost when they fucked Slaanesh into being.”

Bjorn and Redwind exchanged disgusted looks, but kept silent.  Russ was internally grateful for their lack of further dissent.  No Wolf alive could change Russ’ course when he and the Emperor both had their minds set to a task, after all, and Russ was in no mood for his homecoming to be scarred by an argument with two of his most trusted friends and commanders.

“Any comments to register, my sons?” Russ asked, point-blank, just to be sure.

“None, really,” Redwind said.  “Disregarding that Eldar bit, I think it’s a grand idea.”

“Bjorn?”

The millennia-old Terminator shrugged.  Though he could be described as ‘stoic’ and ‘grumpy’ in a single sentence, he also knew a reasonable argument when he heard one.  “I would lead them myself, if you asked me…but you won’t.  Will you, Leman?” he asked rhetorically.

“I came here for several reasons, old friend…and one of them is to lead the Brothers in person once more,” Russ said, turning his eyes to the holotank again.  Fenris glowed in the maze, all but invisible in the sea of five hundred million stars.  He could find it, though.  He had stared at that star millions of times on thousands of maps, even as more and more worlds appeared on the maps around it, and he could have found it blindfolded by now.  Soon, the empty places around it would fill even more…but he knew he could find it again.

“I have missed running with my brothers in the fields of war, I will not lie,” Russ said, staring down at the artificial galaxy.  “But I will wait.  The campaign will not begin until all assets are constructed and in place.  ‘Expedience in the absence of foresight leads to catastrophe,’” he quoted Hawser.  The Primarch turned to his Wolf Lords.  “The Legions of Mars must be able to keep pace with the Legions of Terra and Fenris and Nocturne and Inwit and Macragge and Medusa, after all.”

“Oh?  What will the Martians be up to?” Redwind asked.

“Beyond the obvious and urgent need for more exploratory and troop-transport ships for this expansion, they will be called upon to transport whatever STC artifacts and useful xenotech we find, obviously,” Russ said.  “But the Collegio Titanica will be our armored spear, here.  We will be fighting xeno empires that not only eluded the Crusade for three thousand seven hundred years, but in some cases ESCAPED it,” he pointed out.  “We will need the War Titans on this quest, you may be entirely certain of it.  And if we are to expand into the galaxy once more…then by the Worldsea of Fenris, we will need our armored companies,” Russ added darkly.

“Of course, Sire,” Redwind said, bowing his head in agreement.

Russ sank back into his throne and gestured once.  The holotank switched off once more.  “The Martians may not be ready to supply us with the ships, Titans, and Skitarii forces we need for twenty years,” Russ said.  “And the eighteen years of peace we have enjoyed have…softened the Army.  Not all of it, of course, but some.  Enough to be a problem.  And the Rogue Traders, who once served alongside the Explorators, have grown fat and complacent,” he added with a tone of unadulterated disgust in his voice.  He HATED Rogue Traders.  Some were little better than privateers and heretek mercenaries, serving the Emperor and Mars in name alone.

Bjorn, whose personal views on Rogue Traders hewed closer to his masters’ than in any other regard, nodded in weary agreement.  “I would not be so quick to discount the Army though, Sire,” he said.  “Was it not you who said that the Astartes often forget the sheer bravery of the mortal man, who is motivated to fight to defend his family and honor?”

“It was,” Russ conceded with the faintest grin of self-reproach.

The ancient one nodded, his point made and received.  Redwind sensed the conversation ending and bowed low.

“How shall I impart your plan to the Brothers?” he asked.

Russ straightened up in his throne.  “You shall not.  Not verbally, at least.  As I said, there could be two uninterrupted decades of hard work ahead of us.  Step up recruitment as much as we can short of provoking battle between the clans outright, see to it that we secure as many designs for fresh hardware from the Mechanicus as we can without stepping on anyone’s mechadendrites…quietly.  We have many foes, with many ears to hear and eyes to see.  I trust the Techpriests here, of course, for they stand to gain as much as we do.  Lost Forge Worlds!  Entire archives of human history and knowledge.  STC relics!  But caution is the preserve of the living victorious, and indiscretion the preserve of the dead vainglorious.”

“Well said, Sire,” Redwind said.  He rose and allowed himself a small, satisfied grin.  “Anything else I should do, before I go to see to this instruction?”