Cargo Bay, Jotunn Shuttle, Jotunheimr System, December 25, 2021
Calvin hurt. All over. Not only was his head pounding, he felt like vomiting with every movement. The sensory overload he was experiencing was only making it worse.
Although the Jotunn shuttle’s cargo bay was cavernous, the giants had loaded it beyond what Calvin would have thought safe. In addition to Calvin, Farhome and the Ssselipsssiss, as well as a large party of guards to watch them, the shuttle was full of the S’nark. Calvin had no idea how many the Jotunn ship had held; most of them looked the same to him. Trapped in his seat for the journey to the planet, he had the opportunity to look closely at several of them for the first time under full light, and he realized there were a variety of different colors and markings. Although the differences were subtle, he imagined the bugs could tell each other apart as easily as a Terran could any other human.
The shuttle ride was not something he wanted to ever do again. In addition to the stink of a large number of Jotunn, who obviously didn’t believe in showers or anything approaching Terran hygiene, the bugs emitted a weird odor when they were excited, which all of them were as they made their first-ever journey to a planet. Their odor clashed with the reek of the Jotunn, producing a miasma of stench he figured would stay with him for days. It would probably be easier to requisition another combat suit than to try to clean the one he had. He spent most of the shuttle ride trying to fight off another round of vomiting. Not because it would have made the smell in the back of the shuttle worse, it wouldn’t have, but because his throat was already raw from the episodes of the previous night. He swore he’d never drink mead again.
He looked at Farhome in disgust. The Aesir was sleeping soundly. He had grown extra filters for his nose that strained out the smell. Cheater. He had also probably used his nanobots to clean out his system so he wasn’t hungover. Calvin couldn’t remember ever hating someone so much.
The Ssselipsssiss were seated across the aisle from Calvin. They looked like infants sitting in an adult chair; all five were buckled into the same seat. Young enough not to worry about the consequences of their journey, they were excited and chatting happily with each other. Calvin hated them too.
The pilot of the shuttle never announced to the passengers their landing was imminent; Calvin’s first indication they were getting close to the ground was when the shuttle slammed into it, throwing all of the unsecured non-Jotunn into the air.
Apparently, the pilot had advised the Jotunn in the cargo bay the ‘landing’ was coming; all of them were braced for the impact and laughed uproariously at the non-Jotunns’ discomfort.
“Boy, that makes me miss landing on the aircraft carrier,” Calvin noted. “Not.” He stood up and slowly stretched, trying to undo the damage of the landing without upsetting his stomach.
The ramp came down, and they got their first view of Jotunheimr. The capital city of the Jotunn looked much like the capital cities on any of the other advanced civilization’s planets Calvin had been to; massive metal and steelglass structures reached for the sky that would have dwarfed the tallest structure on Terra, the 3,300-foot-tall Jeddah Tower in Saudi Arabia.
As Calvin walked down the ramp, he saw they had come down in a park in the center of the city; they were in a canyon formed by the massive structures surrounding them on all sides. Only one building was different than the others. Although it seemed out of place with the rest of the buildings, it wasn’t out of place for the culture; the city was built around a central structure that looked every bit the part of an ancient Viking longhouse…but one on the grandest scale imaginable.
Odin’s Longhouse was a long, narrow, single-room building like the Terran Viking longhouses of old, but that was where the similarity ended. Where the Viking longhouse might have been 150 feet long by 15 feet wide, this building was as big as a medium-sized Terran arena. The structure incorporated a pseudo-concrete monolithic dome measuring almost 900 feet in length, with a width of 150 feet and a height of well over 250 feet.
The planet’s star was overhead but did little to warm the group; although the Jotunn had said it was the height of summer, it felt like winter back on Terra. The cooler temperatures helped settle Calvin’s stomach, as did being on solid ground once more.
With a blast of sand and small rocks, the Terran shuttle set down next to its Jotunn counterpart, looking like a child’s toy next to the other shuttle’s enormous bulk. Within seconds, the cargo bay ramp came down, and Calvin’s group was joined by Captain Sheppard, Night and Lieutenant O’Leary.
“Good to see you,” Calvin said in greeting; “thanks for coming after us.” He introduced the Ssselipsssiss to the Terran officers. “These are my…um…kids. Captain Skrelleth left them in my care. They are also something of a Ssselipsssiss combat team, so they have some skills you might not expect in Terrans their age.”
Lieutenant O’Leary raised an eyebrow. “Got tired of collecting spaceships and decided to start collecting kids?”
“No, he left them with me right before he sacrificed himself to get us off their planet, so I owe him. Captain Sheppard, can we find room for them when we return to the Gulf?”
“That won’t be a problem,” the CO replied, his voice sad. “We have all too many rooms open at the moment.”
“Well, it seems like we all have stories to tell,” Calvin said.
“Not only that,” Night said, “but guess what else is here on this planet? One of the red mountains you were looking for.” Calvin had been given a staff by an avatar of an ancient civilization and told that he needed to take it to a number of mountains on planets across the galaxy; all of them were similar to Ayer’s Rock in Australia.
“Did you happen to bring down the Progenitor’s Rod?” Calvin asked. “I think I only need one more to find out what it does.”
“No, sorry; we didn’t see the mountain until we were on our way down.”
A nearby giant started tapping his foot, causing a series of minor earthquakes. “It is time for me to take you inside,” the Jotnar said.
“I guess the rod will have to wait,” Calvin said; “it looks like the Jotunn are ready.”
Odin’s Longhouse, Jotunheimr, Jotunheimr System, December 25, 2021
The doors on the end of the longhouse gaped open, and the Terrans followed their guide to the structure with the Ssselipsssiss and the horde of S’nark following close behind.
It was even cooler inside the shade of the longhouse, with a breeze blowing through the tunnel-like facility that made it hard to walk through the doorway. As the group entered the structure, Calvin was surprised by its lack of furnishings. He had expected the building to house an auditorium-like facility; instead, it was nothing more than a packed earth floor with three rows of tiered benches on both sides. Long poles shaped like tree trunks held up the ceiling. The floor was shaped like a Terran eye—narrow at the ends and wider in the middle.
The giant led them into the longhouse and pointed to a spot about 1/3 of the way to the other end. “Combatants wait there,” he said. “All others wait on benches on the sides. Don’t worry, the battle won’t last long.”
The Terrans moved to the indicated spot on the floor while the rest of the group took their seats on the benches. The Ssselipsssiss and Farhome helped each other onto a bench; the S’nark scrambled onto the one behind them.
“You seem pretty calm,” Calvin said. “Do you know something I don’t?”
“I know that I’d hate to be their champion in a few minutes,” Night said, “whoever he is.”
“It’s probably one of them,” Captain Sheppard said, nodding to the other end of the hall.
A group of four giants stood talking in the opposite doorway, their hair blowing in the breeze. The largest of the group was facing away from the Terrans and had a massive battle axe strapped to his back. Seeing the Terrans, one of the others nodded in their direction, and the group turned toward them. The biggest giant was…
Fenrir.
“Oh,
shit,” Calvin muttered. “Fenrir. Do you remember how he introduced himself? Fenrir, son of Loki. And who was the captain of the ship you guys destroyed?”
“Loki,” Night said. He shrugged. “Doesn’t matter; I’m pissed off, and he’s going to die.”
“Ha, ha, ha,” the enormous Jotnar said to his comrades. “These creatures look smaller in real life. This will take even less time than I originally thought.”
Fenrir strode toward them. Easily over 17 feet tall and 3,000 pounds, the giant was colossal; the ground tremored with each of his footsteps. Dressed in red-spotted pelts, the Jotunn had a chain-metal shirt over his torso, and light blue hair. He stopped 20 feet away from them; the Terrans still had to crane their necks to look up and see the Jotnar’s red eyes glaring back at them.
“Ha, ha, ha,” the giant said again. “I am surprised you had the courage to meet me in battle.” He reached over his shoulder and drew his battle axe. “Gaze upon thy destiny, mini-mortal. This is Hel, given to my family ages past by the goddess of death, herself. With this axe I will cleave your maggot head from your swine body!”
The battle axe was enormous, with a 10-foot wooden shaft and large, curved iron blades nearly three feet long. The Jotnar swung the blade easily back and forth in his hands, spinning it faster and faster until it became nothing more than a blur.
“Wow,” Night said. “That is his face. Stupid me; I just thought his neck threw up.”
“Ha! You are funny, Terran,” Fenrir said as the axe continued to whir. “But you are not very good at insults. Would you like to just give up now? I promise your end will be swift.”
“No thanks, you drinker of spoiled sheep’s piss,” Night replied. “When I’m done with you, I’m going to make you my sansordinn.”
Fenrir’s face went purple, and a choking sound came from the depths of his throat. His rhythm faltered with the axe, and he missed a catch. The enormous axe spun off through the air toward the benches lining the wall to the right; the Jotunn there scattered. With a loud “thwack!” the axe embedded itself in one of the benches.
“You will die slowly and in great pain,” Fenrir growled. “Take your position; it’s time for you to die.” He stalked over to the bench and yanked the axe out with a single tug, his gigantic muscles bulging with the effort.
The Terrans turned and began walking toward their end of the long hall.
“What the hell did you say to him?” Captain Sheppard asked.
“Sansordinn is the worst curse you can use in their language,” Night replied. “It basically means ‘to be used in the position of a female by another man.’”
“Well, if pissing him off was your goal, I think you succeeded.”
Night cocked his head to listen to the swearing from the other end of the long hall. “It appears so,” he agreed.
“More to the point,” Calvin said, “what do you know about fighting 17-foot-tall giants with battle axes?”
“I did some research,” Night admitted. “I figured he would fight with one of three weapons, and the battle axe was one of them.”
“You’re not worried?” Calvin asked. “He had it spinning pretty fast.”
“Bah, that’s easier than it looks, and it requires less swinging power than you might expect; gravity and momentum do most of the work to keep the blades spinning. What you don’t see is the axe’s blade tips have points that can also be used to thrust or hook an opponent. It’s a pretty effective weapon.”
“So what are you going to do to defeat him?”
“Try not to be where he swings it, for the most part.”
“That’s a good plan,” Calvin agreed. “I was talking more about how you’re planning on killing him. You can only avoid his blade for so long before you make a mistake. It doesn’t even look like you’re armed; I don’t see a sword or even a long knife.”
“No, but I have these,” Night said as he reached into a leather pouch at his side and pulled out a handful of large, five-pointed shuriken in a variety of dark colors. Three other bags were strapped to his belt.
“You’re going to beat him with throwing stars?” Captain Sheppard was incredulous; his mouth hung open as he shook his head. “Even if you hit him with them, they’re barely going to scratch him. Maybe you could put out an eye, but even that’s going to be a damned near impossible.”
Night smiled. “I’ve got a plan.”
“Well I certainly hope so,” the CO replied. “There is an awful lot riding on this.”
“Don’t worry, sir; I’ve got it. I owe them.”
“Well, good luck then,” Captain Sheppard said, turning to walk to the left-side bench.
“Thanks for coming,” Calvin said. “No matter how this turns out.”
“Heh, I’m the lucky one,” Night replied. “If I lose, I’m dead; you, however, are still stuck here.”
“So don’t lose, okay?”
“That’s the plan.”
Calvin turned and walked over to where the CO waited.
“Are you ready to meet Hel?” Fenrir yelled from the other end of the long hall.
“Are you ready to bend over?” Night yelled back.
Fenrir roared something unintelligible and charged.
The ground shook as the giant approached with the finesse of a runaway steam locomotive, the battle axe held high in his right hand. Seeing the Terran appeared unarmed, he leaned forward and ran harder, as if he intended to stomp the Terran into the ground.
Night started moving and took up a loping pace toward the Jotnar, trying to time his steps so they didn’t coincide with the giant’s footfalls. At the last moment he feinted left and dove to the right. Having swerved for the feint, the giant missed his strike and roared past, screaming curses.
Night rolled several times and sprang to his feet, a shuriken held high. The giant stopped and turned, faster than anything his size had a right to.
Not wanting to be made to look like a fool a second time, Fenrir advanced on Night more slowly this time, his battle axe held in front of him in both hands. Night waved the shuriken a couple of times then threw the star toward the giant’s face.
Fenrir turned the battle axe sideways, and the shuriken glanced off the face of the axe toward the crowd on the left.
“That is the best you have?” Fenrir roared. “Ho, ho, ho. That would scarcely even break my skin, much less injure me.”
The giant swung the axe, trying to disembowel Night, but Night dove back out of the way and began circling back to his right. When he saw that Fenrir had recovered from the swing, he threw another of the stars at the giant’s face. Like the first one, Fenrir blocked it with the axe head, and it went spinning off toward the crowd.
As the giant blocked the star, Night sprinted forward and dove through the giant’s legs. He rolled once and then was up and on his feet again.
Fenrir spun, leading with his axe, but Night was already out of range. As he recovered from the stroke, a shuriken slammed into his upper left arm.
“Oh no!” Fenrir roared. “A little bug just stung me.” He shifted the axe to his left hand and pulled out the star. With a flick of his wrist, he flipped it off to the side as if not worthy of his notice. Farhome dove out of the way as it whizzed past his head.
“Come now, mini-person, and let us end this,” Fenrir said, stepping toward Night. “We both know that—”
Fenrir screamed and jumped up into the air on one foot, dropping his axe. Calvin saw a flash of light from the underside of the giant’s boot; one of the throwing stars was buried in the Jotnar’s boot. Calvin wondered how it got there, and he scanned the arena floor. It took a moment, but then Calvin saw them. There were a number of other stars sticking up…from everywhere Night had rolled. Calvin watched as Night feinted and dove to the side. As he stood up again, Calvin could see the faint outline of a star where he had rolled, but the color matched the hue of the dirt, making it difficult to see. It pointed straight up, sure to penetrate the footwear of anyone who stepped on it, especially
if that person weighed almost two tons.
Night dove forward and rolled past the giant again, who tried to grab him but missed. Favoring his foot, Fenrir turned and hobbled over to his axe, using only the heel of his right foot. Seeing motion out of the corner of his eye, he turned as Night dove past him again, but was unable to seize the Terran, who once again rolled underneath his outstretched arm.
Picking up the axe, Fenrir turned to find Night cleaning dirt from a fingernail with one of the points of a throwing star. Night covered his mouth as he yawned. “This is the most boring fight I’ve ever been a part of,” he said. “I had expected a lot more from you.” He yawned again.
“I will kill you!” Fenrir bellowed. He took one more step, then he screamed again and dropped to his knees, another throwing star through the sole of his other foot.
As the giant fell forward onto his hands and knees, Night raced forward, drawing a 12-inch blade from a hidden scabbard in his sleeve. He ran down the right side of the giant and, wielding the knife like a sword, sliced across the back of the giant’s arm, severing the tendons there.
The giant collapsed to the right, and Night dove under the falling form. Rolling once, he stood back up again and severed the muscles and tendons in Fenrir’s left arm. The giant fell forward onto his face, and a whimper escaped his lips.
Night ran forward and plunged the slender knife into the back of Fenrir’s neck, cutting his spinal cord. The giant collapsed. Reversing the knife, he drove it up as far as he could into the giant’s brain. Fenrir shivered once then lay still.
“Merry Christmas, asshole,” Night said as he turned away from the body. “That’s for Wraith.”
Odin’s Longhouse, Jotunheimr, Jotunheimr System, December 26, 2021
Captain Sheppard, Calvin, Night and Lieutenant O’Leary stepped off the end of the shuttle’s cargo ramp and marched in a line abreast to the longhouse.
“Well, that’s different,” Lieutenant O’Leary noted. “Guards.”
The Dark Star War (Codex Regius Book 3) Page 24
