Aberrant: 200X - [Gods of War] Intro: The Line [FIN]

[Eingar]

11th May, 2011. 8:00 am. The Congo

"Repeat and confirm that, please." Einherjar stared out at the leafy canopy of the jungle from his perch on top of the hill, the cool ice of his tone a perfect compliment to his gaze as he made his not-quite-request.

"Orders from Windhoek are to not, repeat NOT engage Congolese army forces or those acting on their behalf unless they directly interfere with those under protection of your contract." The voice on the sat-phone line was crackling slightly from the distortion of the 1024-bit encryption, but was perfectly clear. "Order is confirmed, Einherjar. Do you foresee a problem fulfilling those orders?"

"Yes." Ein said flatly, turning to look at the sprawling tent-and-hut city that covered the large hill and some of the land around it. 12,831 displaced by the endless civil wars that wracked this country, mostly women and children, driven to the back end of nowhere looking for some peace only for the war to come looking for them. "The Doctors Without Borders personnel aren't going to just stand by and let the Congolese Army slaughter and rape these people. They'll put themselves in harm's way."

"We're sending an evacuation team, who should be there in three hours. The Congo forces have been warned to give us time to clear the DWB people or risk Elite reprisals. We're notifying Doctor Fournier right now also: under the terms of our contract, if they refuse extraction they absolve DeVries of and all liability..."

"Yes, yes." Einherjar said shortly, distaste and scorn bleeding into his tone. "Tell me - is it cobalt or diamonds that these poor fuckers are sitting on?" There was a pause on the other end of the line.

"You have your orders. See the foreign personnel onto the choppers and ensure they leave the zone." The voice stated stiffly before killing the connection. Einherjar swore under his breath, then stepped off the outcrop of rock and fell to the earth below, the blue-green-white aurora of his anima shifting around him as he turned the fall into a gentle swoop over the town. Four years. This town had been growing here in North Kivu for four years on a patch of land that nobody wanted... only now they did want it, and the over ten thousand people, mostly women and children, were going to suffer. The Congolese Army weren't known for their tender mercy towards those less fortunate and less armed than they.

The big Elite touched down on one of the dry red dirt streets, the scrapwood and corrugated iron buildings lining this particular thoroughfare marking it as the high-class district: most of the population of this makeshift town lived in tents. As usual a small crowd of locals gathered, smiling and jabbering questions, prayers, requests for the 'god' to come and use his 'magic' on their brother/mother/cousin... They had little fear of him, though still lived in awe of the Elite who'd been with them for some months now. He was kind, helped the doctors, gave chocolate to the children, and had turned away an interhamwe raid one month past. The bandits had attacked the east side of the town with their usual fanatical ferocity, snatching some women and supplies, but they hadn't gotten far before Einherjar had caught up with them and fallen on the ragtag band with the force of a winter storm. Despite the fact that he was there to guard the Western doctors and nurses, the nameless town regarded Einherjar as their personal guardian spirit. Now, however, those in front took one look at Einherjar's face and melted away, letting him stride past.

"#The god is angry. What is he angry about?#" They muttered to each other, and worried.

Ein wasn't angry - he was furious. But he sublimated the rage behind his professional face and prepared to meet with his clients here.

Doctor Aalis Fournier wasn't quite so stoic or controlled when not dealing with medical matters. He could hear the Frenchwoman cursing a blue streak as he approached her 'office', and when he ducked into the hut he saw the handsome older woman holding forth to the other Doctors Without Borders personnel, having evidently wasted no time in getting them together.

"...those cowardly two-faced cochons... Oh!" she stopped short as she saw the blond giant and blushed very slightly. "Einherjar... Ein... We've just..."

"Heard the news." Doctor Solverk said dryly, the disappointment and helpless anger in his eyes mirrored in every other gaze present. All of them, Ein noted, looking at him. He met the stares unflinchingly and nodded.

"Yes. I just received my orders too. My job is to get you all, and your support personnel, onto the choppers." he told them in his rumbling voice.

"This sucks!" Patricia McGinty, MD said heatedly. "They're going to come in here and..."

"Do what they always do." Rolf Mueller said. The German leader of the peacekeeping guards, baseline mercs who worked for Doctors Without Borders to serve as crowd control and to fend off bandits, was a twenty-year veteran of Africa, and had pretty much seen it all. Which was why, eight years ago, he had decided to work for Doctors Without Borders for a fraction of what he was worth on the open market. Years of working abroad had softened and mostly erased Rolf's accent, but other than a slight middle-age spread there was little else soft about the large man. Alone amongst the baselines present, he seemed more soul-sick and weary than outraged. "This is Africa, doctors. Greed and hate drive this place, no matter how much we would have it different."

"Can't you do something?" McGinty demanded of Einherjar, tears running down her face as Mueller's words hit home.

"My job ends when you're all on the helicopters." Ein stated calmly.

"But you could stop the Army!" Aalis said with conviction. Patricia looked at the older woman, then at Einherjar.

"Is that true?"

"Yes." Ein said slowly, but as the doctors began to lean forward, perhaps to plead with him, he shook his head. "But I won't."

"Why the fuck not!?" Patrica screamed at him. Ein looked at her, just out of med school and wanting to change the world, not understanding that some parts of the world didn't want to change. She stood, eyes blazing, and pointed at him. "Is it the money? Is that it? You've seen these people. You've helped these people! They look up to you, you know that! You're a god to them and... and to us! I thought you understood. I thought you cared about what we do here!" She quieted down, wiping her eyes and looking at the impassive face of the blond giant.

"It's not about the money. It's about the practicality." Ein said calmly as though she hadn't just been screaming at him. "I might be able fight off the force that's coming alone. I might even do it with minimal fatalities. But then the government would hire elites. And then they'd come back, and the loss of life here would be greater." He looked around at them all.

"The best thing you can do for these people is to convince them to leave. To strike north or west. There's hours before the army comes to clean the place up. Get them moving, get them out. Rolf?" Mueller nodded. "Start spreading the word. The army is coming, and people need to pack up."

"I'll get right on that." Rolf said, heading for the door. Ein swept his gaze over the doctors.

"I sympathise with what you're feeling, but like Rolf said - that's Africa. The people out there know it." he pointed out into the street. "They'll be upset to leave here, but part of them always knew that they'd have to one day. Because that's the way things are here."

"They don't have to be." Doctor Fournier said softly, her dark eyes on him. Ein shrugged.

"No. They don't."

* * * * * *

Two hours later...

"Ein!"

It was Leo Kincaid, one of Rolf's team of guards, that had called him. Ein looked round as the burly man skidded to a stop, his dark skin gleaming with condensation and sweat in the humidity.

"One of the first parties to leave just returned. They say they ran into army forces to the west who turned them back." Leo's face was grim. "They're not letting them run away. What the fuck, man?"

"They're planning a massacre." Einherjar's face set into a stone-like mask, his jaw tight. "Rather than let these people relocate to squat on some other piece of land, they plan to eliminate the problem." Leo's eyes widened in outrage, then he raised a hand to his radio earpiece, listening.

"One group that tried to go to the north just got back too. The troops opened fire on them, but there's only a few injuries. You're right, man. They're penning them here and waiting for us to go." Kincaid looked furious, impotent and angry. "They can't fucking do this!"

"They can, and they will." Einherjar said. "And if they've got the place encircled, that means at least two to three thousand troops. Probably with mortars as well. They'll wait for us to leave then slaughter all of the refugees."

"What the hell are we going to do? Call Utopia?"

"They won't get involved. Not quickly. The Congo's too much of a hotspot, with too many foreign interests." Ein looked up at the grey sky and sighed. "Tell Rolf to make sure all the DWB people are ready. The choppers are nearly here."

Leo ran off, and Ein walked down the dirt street. Word was starting to spread, resignation was giving way to fear and panic as the people here realised their fate. Everywhere he looked, eyes stared at him, beseeching without words. I'm not a god. he thought at them fiercely. That's a gimmick, an image, a media ploy. I can't wave my hand and stop a whole army.

The helicopters roared in from the southwest, four large Blackhawks with the DeVries logo prominently blazoned on the sides and bottom. Ahead of him, he could see the doctors and their support staff, including Mueller's guards, waiting by the cleared strip of jungle that served as a landing pad. Doctor Fournier stood next to Mueller, listening to him as he explained something to her, and Ein's sharp eyes could see the blood drain from her face as he approached. She looked at him, her eyes wide, and read in Ein's unflinching expression the awful truth.

"I won't go!" she shouted at him over the roar of the rotor blades. "I won't! I can't, Einherjar!" Composed earlier, the doctor was crying now, shaking off Rolf's hand on her arm. Ein looked at her, the still-beautiful face lined with care and hard work, the dark eyes filled with tears. The Elite looked around, saw the crowd of people calling out and pushing, shoving each other and jostling. He saw women and children, scared and wailing. He saw Mueller's boys (one of whom was a girl) all standing nearby looking grave. The other doctors and the nurses. And they were all looking at him. In every gaze he saw the same thing.

You can do something. We believe you can. Give us a sign, give us a miracle.

He pulled out the satphone.

"Base here. Are the doctors away?"

"They're just getting on the choppers now." Ein said, looking straight at Aalis, his icy blue eyes fathomless.

"Good. You're done there. Report back to Windhoek at earliest opportunity."

"Repeat and clarify. You said I'm done here?" Ein asked conversationally, blond hair waving in the wind from the choppers.

"Confirmed. Contract is done."

"Then I'm taking a vacation." There was a pause for a moment.

"Copy that. Report back to Windhoek and-"

"Now." Einherjar said matter-of-factly. "I like it here. I think I'll be staying."

"Negative! Dammit, Einherjar. This isn't-" The big Elite shut off the phone and smiled slightly, then handed it to Doctor Fournier.

"Give this to the DeVries rep when you see them." he told her. She looked at him wide-eyed.

"What are you doing?"

"Resigning, I think." Ein looked up at the sky, feeling suddenly very light inside. "Or getting myself fired, which is much the same thing. Now get going. I'll keep these people safe and get them away from here." He looked at her slack face, then looked at Rolf. "Go. Get them on board and tell the choppers to go." They were all motionless for a moment, then jumped into motion as Ein yelled "Go!"

He turned and walked towards the crowd, hearing the first helicopter start to take off behind him. Raising his hands to get their attention, the big Elite rose into the air a few feet.

"Listen to me!" he shouted in French. "The army are coming, yes. But I am still here, and I will not let them hurt you. But you have to listen to me." Another chopper rose into the air and began to buzz off to the southwest. Ein looked at the sea of faces, saw the hope growing there like a sunrise. He felt clear, clearer than he'd ever felt. Even when the world used to make sense, before his eruption and the death of his wife, the big man hadn't possessed this kind of clarity.

"Get all your belongings, and all the food the doctors left. Take them to the high ground there." he pointed up the large hill. "Do it now, and do it calmly, and you will be safe." He lowered back down to the ground as the crowd began to move, only to find Rolf Mueller and his fifteen mercenaries all standing behind him.

"What the hell are you still doing here?" Einherjar asked them. Rolf grinned unrepentantly, as did the others. Leo Kincaid chuckled.

"If you're going to shepherd these people somewhere safe, you'll need sheepdogs." Rolf looked at the activity around them, then back at the huge blond man. "So what's the plan, boss?" Ein stared at him for a moment, then laughed, a rumbling leonine sound.

"We're getting ready to weather a storm."

[Eingar]

11 May, 13:30 Local time

The mercenaries had been working for an hour now, assisted by hundreds of willing hands who readily accepted direction as they dug trenches, tore down corrugated metal buildings, and using both constructed an elaborate network of foxholes. Sandbags were another thing this place had in abundance - Mueller believed in always having lots of empty sandbags nearby, just in case he needed to fill them in a hurry. The hill was defensible - barely. The Congolese army would have to come up from the south or east, due to the footing being too treacherous on the other slopes. They'd be coming soon, too. Mueller's lookouts had spotted one or two scouts at the treeline, and the mercs could imagine the Congolese commander hastening his men to set up and get ready.

Einherjar didn't have to imagine it. He could hear it.

He sat cross-legged near the summit of the hill, his eufiber configured to it's fur and chain-mail look, his sword and axe resting across his knees. His eyes shut, quantum enhanced hearing listened to the radio chatter as though it were directed to him. This was a gift he hadn't shared with his employers, this knack of hearing broadcasted electromagnetic transmissions. It was one of a few gifts he hadn't shared, out of some instinct for a tactical edge even over those who should know his capabilities the best.

And after today, they'll wonder what else I've been keeping hidden. That should give them pause... I hope.

The Congolese army was having trouble, mainly because of the hilly, densely forested terrain meaning that they had to carry their heavy equipment into place. They would be ready in another hour, Ein estimated, smiling as he heard the enemy commander cursing his men to hurry to a set of map coordinates in order to set up a second mortar battery. The voices were so clear they might as well have been prayers - the litany of war.

Does that make me a god of war? he asked himself amusedly, then opened his eyes and looked at the frightened people below his rocky perch. Many were looking up at him, praying and hoping. Ein's smile died. It does to them.

*"Mueller."* he transmitted on the short-wave frequency that he knew no-one was listening to. *"I'm going to need a cargo net in about ten minutes."*

*"Understood. I'll have some of the boys bring one to you."* Rolf's voice came back, no questions asked. Again, Ein was struck by how absolute the mercenaries' faith in him was. He'd heard them - they believed he'd get them through this. And Rolf, plain-spoken worldly Rolf, with his two daughters and a grand-daughter, was among them. Einherjar hoped he was up to the task.

His worry wasn't affecting his planning, though. As quantum-enhanced as the rest of him, his supernatural coolheadedness was plotting every move and countermove in the battle ahead.

Three thousand troops, about a thousand that could be called real soldiers. Vicious and fierce, but undisciplined and superstitious. No heavy armor - they had to leave that thirty miles away and hump their way here. They'll have Chinese AK-47 knockoffs, recoilless rifles, RPGs, maybe some ground-to-air one shot missiles. And mortars. French-made 81mm, effective range 3 kilometres, two batteries of ten. The commander's plan is to bomb the hell out of the town until we're good and rattled, then move in and clean up. Only ten shells per mortar - two hundred total, mixture of willie pete and explosive. Enough to level the whole town. Commander's name is General Kbongwe, and he's cautious. The DeVries rep told him I'm here, but he has anti-tank weapons and huge numbers, and I'm just one nova. Einherjar stood and drifted down to earth, glowing a pale blue-white. He looked at the faces turned his way, the hesitant hopeful smiles people were shooting him, the grins on the faces of the five men bringing him a large cargo net. They're wrong, though. I'm more than one nova. I'm Mueller and his mercs. I'm 12,831 people who need me to save them. He sheated his weapons in their holsters on his back and grinned back at the mercs, taking the bundled up heavy net from them and resting it on his shoulder. He felt an enormous sense of purpose, the clarity he'd experienced earlier becoming ever-more crystalline. Whatever happens later, whatever DeVries do after today, even if they send Totentanz to kill me, here and now I'm about to cut the balls off an entire army to save lives, and they'll never know how ALIVE that makes me feel.

He looked at the ring on his finger and grinned. "I'll see you soon, but not today." he murmured to the gold band. "Today, I've got people counting on me. I know you understand." He kissed the warm gold, then looked at the mercs nearby.

"Tell Rolf I've gone to get him some artillery." he said as he rose into the air about twenty feet, then took off to the west, keeping low as he headed for a set of map coordinates he'd heard on the ether.

* * * * *

"Captain Gwalke, do you copy?" the voice came over the radio net in French.

"Copy."

"You are to commence firing in ten minutes. Walk fire until your spotters tell you that you are hitting the target."

"Understood, General."

Ein opened his eyes and grinned at Rolf. "They're about ready. Firing starts in ten minutes." Rolf smiled back, a little worriedly.

"You know that even if this works, we're still going to have thousands of troops crawling up the hill."

"Leave that to me." Einherjar said confidently. "Are you ready?" Rolf laughed.

"Oh yes. Zeroed-in and eager to start. We're going to alternate rounds, give them some serious pain to think about." Rolf looked over at the captured mortars and grinned evilly. "We'll wipe the other battery out in about four shots, if your coordinates are right. I know these 81's like they're my children."

"Good." Ein clapped him on the shoulder. "Then get to it. No sense in letting them fire first." Rolf laughed uproariously and turned to his mercenaries.

"Alright boys! Let them have it! Feuer!" As one, ten pairs of hands dropped ten high-explosive round into ten 81mm barrels. There was a staccato of loud *crump* sounds as the propellant on the base of each bomb fired, and the rounds were lobbed in a high arc. Einherjar listened to the radio network. If Rolf was on target...

"We are taking fire. Command, we are taking fire on our position!

"You got them." Ein said to Rolf, who turned to his men with a savage whoop.

"Fire all rounds, boys. Let's make some big booms, hey?!"

The sound was deafening. Working together and alternating white phosphorus with high-explosive rounds, Rolf's mercenaries launched bomb after bomb on the enemy mortar position. Rolf laughed like a fiend, his hands over his ears, as from their vantage point on the hill all the defenders could see the jungle three klicks to the south erupt into flame and smoke. Screams sounded over the radio net, which then fell silent as the bombardment continued.

"Take that, verdammt child killers! Hah! Rape a bomb, you Schlappschwanzers." he shouted in glee. "Eight years now I have been turning the other cheek to bullying Hurensohner like this, and now it's payback time, arselickers!" The exuberant merc hugged Einherjar. "My friend, even if we die today, this was worth it."

"We've got another ten minutes while their general finds out what happened and adjusts to the shock." Ein estimated. "Break down the mortars and store them under cover. We might need them later. And get everyone into cover." He looked at the grey sky overhead, at the fat-bellied clouds, and grinned.

[Eingar]

The civilians were all under cover now, Rolf and his men in their foxholes and watching the approaches to the hill. At the top of the hill, Einherjar heard the enemy general command his men to storm the town and kill everyone, a command accompanied by a lot of cursing and grisly threats against the 'damned whore-mongering Elite'. From hundreds of hastily-dug trenches, the people watched as Einherjar rose into the air, the blue-white of his aura flickering and dancing around him, growing in intensity as he concentrated.

I've got to get this right. Need to form it in my mind before I let slip a single erg of quantum.

Above the hill, the clouds began to move, water condensing as it rose on air currents directed by the nova's will. The grey clouds darkened, starting to move in a circular pattern as more and more water was driven upwards into the atmosphere. Einherjar's eyes began to glow with the same colours of his anima as he gritted his teeth, building the storm, feeling the electromagnetic energy dancing in the clouds.

These normally form over oceans... Be careful. We don't want tornadoes. He looked down at the faces below him and saw their expressions as they looked up, seeing the glowing Elite and what was forming above him.

Click to reveal.. (ZOMG!!)

He heard the crackle of small arms fire, saw the flashes from the treeline and heard the shouts of alarm as the rapidly building storm overhead caught the attention of the soldiers. Einherjar grinned mirthlessly as he took the leash off the storm.

"Mein Gott!" Rolf swore from his bunker as he looked up.

"Holy shit." Leo muttered.

The hurricane was small at a mere 37 miles across when compared with it's natural cousins. But it lacked nothing in ferocity when compared to the bigger boys. 120 mile per hour winds screamed through the jungle, lashing the trees and carrying driving rain so thick and heavy that to take a breath was to risk drowning. Lightning flashed in the sky, thunder roared above the banshee howl of the wind, the cacophony of air and water so loud that the screams of the men were drowned out. They were battered by debris moving at lethal speeds, thrown from their feet in their hundreds, tossed screaming through the air with bone-breaking force. For 30 kilometres in every direction the surrounding Congolese army was swatted aside as though by the hand of a wrathful god, bogged down to the knees as torrential rain turned clay earth to mud. Those uninjured scrambled to find shelter and huddled there, terrified beyond rational thought, screaming at every clap of thunder and bright flash of lightning. It was Hell on earth.

Except in the center. The eye of the storm was centered on the hill, whipping gusts of wind and the occasional squall of rain the only intrusion on the space that Einherjar had placed under his protection. The towering walls of the storm surrounded the hill, and both mercenaries and refugees were grateful of it as they regarded the fury beyond that invisible barrier.

Einherjar sank back to earth, still glowing brightly as he maintained the storm. If he'd seemed imposing before, he was terrible now, inhumanly handsome features locked in a pitiless mask as he watched the carnage beyond the hill's boundaries, arms folded.

For hours he assailed the Congo forces thus. For hours he battered them with wind and rain and lightning, washing the unlucky out of their boltholes, reducing their aggression and violence to naked shivering fear. Floods sluiced down the valleys, drowning the unlucky, carrying men and vehicles to screaming oblivion.

Finally the storm dissipated, the wind dropping, the rain still coming down, the thunder subsiding to distant grumbles as the hurricane splintered into myriad rainstorms. Einherjar knelt in dirt, plainly exhausted and with dark circles under his eyes. Maintaining the storm had been taxing even for his superhuman vitality. Slowly, refugees and mercenaries crept from their dugouts and gathered in a circle around the blond giant who was barely able to acknowledge their presence, their eyes wide and grave. Finally Rolf came forward and crouched beside the nova.

"Mein gott!" he murmured. "I have never seen anything like that. Are you alright, Einherjar?"

"The way should be clear." The huge Elite replied in a low, weary tone. "Get everyone ready. We're heading east to Uganda, out of this shithole." He rose slowly, taking deep breaths. "I'll be fine. Let's go before they realise what's going on. We have one hell of a trek ahead of us." He pulled a nova-nutrient bar from his belt and tore off the wrapper, biting into it as Rolf began barking orders. He should have been happy, satisfied with the days work.

They won't send baselines next time. was all he could think about.

Click to reveal.. (Unleashing Hell)

Intelligence + Mega-Intelligence + Weather Manipulation (first 2 dice mega)

1d10=5, 1d10=8, 1d10=7, 1d10=10, 1d10=5, 1d10=4, 1d10=8, 1d10=7

5 succs - enough to shift the weather from cloudy/hazy to full-throttle tropical hurricane, albeit a small one with a 30km/18.6 mile radius (60km/37.2 miles across.)

[Eingar]

1400 hrs, 12 May 2011, North Kivu

"We're not moving fast enough." Leo Kincaid said to Rolf as they watched the mile-long snake of people walk steadily, but slowly, through the valley behind them. The two mercenaries had just topped a rise in the ground and were looking back over the twelve-thousand people behind them, laden down with bundles and those too young or too sick to walk.

"They are moving as fast as they can." Rolf answered as he removed his bush hat and wiped his bald head. "Damn weather." It was raining again, a light drizzle that did not do much to cool the air, meaning that people were drenched in both sweat and water.

"Boss, they're sitting ducks. If Kinshasa whistles up some air support..."

"Then Einherjar will huff, and puff, and blow them back to the airstrip." Rolf laughed and clapped Leo on the back.

"What about 'non-conventional' air support?" Leo asked with a faint note of worry in his voice. He meant novas, of course. Both men knew it, and both automatically scanned the skies, Rolf going so far as to take binoculars out and do a careful sweep.

"Then we will have to hope that our 'non-conventional' is better, eh?" Rolf said as he lowered the glasses.

"Yeah." Leo said with a sigh. "Hey, boss. Did you know he could do that?"

"Do what? The storm thing? No... no I did not." Mueller rubbed his chin as he stared off back the way they had come.

"Scary, huh? The way there were hundreds - thousands of dead troops lying back there. He tore them apart. He beat an entire army, man. Without firing a shot."

"Oh, he fired the shot, Leo. He fired a shot. It just wasn't 'conventional'."

There was a faint whoosh in the air above, and both men fell respectfully silent as Einherjar landed by them. The big Elite seemed recovered from the strain of the previous day, another factor that added to his implacable aura.

"Rolf." he said as he stepped closer, pale eyes on the horizon as he spoke. Mueller offered his temporary commander a canteen, which Ein gratefully took a drink out of before turning his gaze on the two mercs.

"Quite a few of the column have guns. Picked up from the dead soldiers on the way out?" he asked rhetorically. Rolf nodded.

"Ja. We couldn't really stop them all, so it seemed best to let them arm themselves." Ein nodded in understanding.

"We'll be stopping in a few hours. Have your men circulate and make sure the weapons' owners know how to clean and maintain them. If they're going to carry guns, it'd be good if the guns worked." he stated. Rolf nodded, but Leo piped up.

"Aren't we going to push on? I mean, what if they come after us?" Ein took another swig of water and handed the canteen back to Mueller before answering.

"They're not coming after us." He locked eyes with Kincaid. "They're waiting for us a few miles short of the border. Artillery, tanks, and air support. As soon as we leave the hills and jungle to the flats, we'll be walking into a shitstorm."

"Crap. So let's turn north or something." Leo said. Ein shook his head.

"No good either. We've got two elites on our trail. They're cautious, because they're not certain what other tricks I have under my hat, but if we try to maneuver they'll run up our arses. That's why we're stopping tonight. I'm going to try and take care of both of them."

"How'd you know all this?" Leo had to ask. Ein grinned.

"Magic." he said with a laugh and started to turn away.

"What about the elites? You know them?" Ein stopped at that, still looking away, and was silent for a long moment.

"Both of them." was all he said before taking to the air.

[Eingar]

There was no real hiding his approach from who he was hunting, so Steelbolt didn't bother. Wearing his hardened metallic form and easily carrying the two-meter long 'BFG', a 7-barrelled rotary cannon originally designed for the A-10 Tankbuster, the bulky Elite trudged along the clearly defined trail taken some hours earlier by some twelve-thousand people that his employers wanted dead. Steelbolt wasn't overly bothered by that, just so long as they didn't expect him to do the killing. He was a goddamn Elite, not a roach exterminator. Let the baseline 'soliders' waiting at the border get their cheap kicks: he was here simply to remove these people's protector: Einherjar.

Ein had seriously fucked up this time. Rumor was that he'd come close to blowing a billion-dollar deal for Anna, and that the hard word had come down from Praetoria to find DeVries' former blue-eyed boy and sanction his ass into a dirt-nap retirement before the pooch was well and truly screwed. Steelbolt felt a little bad for his ex-compatriot. Einherjar was a good drinking buddy, a damn good fighter, and the kind of guy you'd want guarding your back in a fight. But he'd fucked up: he'd messed with the Almighty Dollar-flow. Now the Docs Without Borders were snarling up a shitstorm accusing DV of allowing helpless people to be murdered simply for mineral rights, Ein had trashed Asani's 4th Congolese Army division, and apparent Kinshasa was squealing to DeVries like a Thai hooker with a dick up their ass. If Totentanz had been available, he'd have been the one they sent. But he was off killing some other poor schlub for too much money.

Like that spooky Aryan fucker needed another nova kill anyways, Steelbolt grumped. No, this would make his rep, his and Scalp's. Take down the scary-professional Einherjar - this was the ticket to the big time. Too bad: he liked the dude. Liked him better than that weirdo psycho partner they'd assigned him for this gig. Motherfucker was trying to be Totentanz, ignoring the fact that Totentanz was Totentanz, and would probably stay Totentanz for some time.

"Evening, Steelbolt." The rumbling voice didn't really come as a surprise: Steelbolt had been expecting to find Ein waiting for him. Thumbing a switch on the BFG, he started the barrels spinning as his eyes penetrated the gloom and saw the tall blond nova emerge from the rocks a little ways up the ravine.

"Getting sloppy, Viking-boy." Steelbolt said with a smile. Damn if he didn't like the guy, even if they were about to kill each other.

"I thought I'd give you a chance to turn around." Ein jumped down into the trail, a blue-white aurora springing into life around him as glittering frost limned his weapons. Steelbolt didn't discount the sword and axe: he'd seen Ein cut though tank armor with those 'quaint archaic' things. He also didn't discount the fact that Einherjar was crazy - or confident - enough to not bother with a sneak attack. Steelbolt felt a thrill of something that was not-quite fear - more excitement - as he looked into the glowing ice-blue eyes.

"Turn around? Now I'm insulted, man. You know I can't do that." Any time now, Scalp, you little fuck he thought.

Click to reveal..

Ein: Activating Premonition 2 qp, Claws 3 qp, Forcefield 2 qp. Down to 23 qp

Forcefield roll Roll: [6, 2, 10, 7, 4, 8, 2, 6] + mega [2, 10, 5]. Total Successes: 6. + 17 B/L soak

Premonition roll Roll: [1, 5, 6, 1, 6] + mega [6, 2]. Total Successes: 0.

Scalp: Stealth roll Roll: [2, 2, 7, 10, 3, 8, 9, 6, 6, 4, 8] + mega [7, 5, 8]. Total Successes: 9.

+Catfooted = 12

Ein: Awareness roll Roll: [5, 10, 5, 5, 6, 3, 8, 7] + mega [7, 1]. Total Successes: 5.

Scalp gets the drop on Ein: +7 dice to attack roll

Using monowire garrote:

Sneak attack roll Roll: [1, 2, 6, 2, 9, 2, 1, 7, 6, 6, 4, 9] + mega [7, 6, 6]. Total Successes: 5.

+4 damage dice

10L + 17d10L reduced to ping damage.

Damage roll Roll: [9]. Total Successes: 1.1 Lethal to Ein

There was no warning, none at all. Ein's instincts, attentive though they were, caught no sign of the impending attack until the carbon-fibre garrote was already around his throat, the razor-sharp strand cutting into his neck. Fortunately, the super-reinforced nature of the nordic Elite's skin and his glowing forcefield deflected the worst of a strike that would, otherwise, have snicked his head clean off his broad shoulders. Steelbolt raised his gun, but was unwilling to open fire with Scalp in the firing line.

There was no shock, no moment of panic for his enemies to capitalise on. Ein's emotions were rigidly controlled, his mind too swift and coldly logical to be thrown off-balance by his failure to detect Scalp. Even as he felt blood run down his neck, the big Elite reacted, thrusting up one hand to the sky, reaching out into the quantum ether... and calling down lightning.

Click to reveal.. (Calling the lightning)

Weather Manipulation, paying 6 qp (unmastered technique) Roll: [9, 7, 9, 5, 10, 8, 10, 5] + mega [7, 6, 8] + 1. Total Successes with modifier: : 11.

Damage: 10L + 7d10L - 3 Lethal soak = 7L + 7d10L. Ouch.

Damage Roll: [9, 4, 7, 5, 2, 7, 8]. Total Successes: 4. + 7L

It arced down from the cloudy night sky, a dazzlingly bright stroke of ionised particles that engulfed both Einherjar and the smaller man on his back. There was a scream, high-pitched and cutting off in a mere second, and as Steelbolt blinked away the afterimages he saw the charred and unrecognisable body of Scalp catapulted off Einherjar's back, trailing smoke and filling the ravine with the familiar smell of burned flesh. Ein was coughing as his breathing returned, himself unharmed by the lightning strike.

"God-damn!" Steelbolt laughed, raising his ultramachinegun once more. "That was a sight to see. Makes me even more sorry to have to kill you."

"Kind of you." Einherjar said hoarsely as the wound in his neck healed. "If it helps, I'm sorry to have to die." He nodded once more at Steelbolt. "Shall we?"

There was no more need for words. Both men tensed for a moment, then Steelbolt squeezed the trigger on the huge cannon in his hands as Einherjar charged...

Click to reveal..

Status: Ein's down to 16 qp: 6 from the lightning bolt, 1 to Regenerate.

[Eingar]

Click to reveal.. ('Bolt Initiative)

Roll: [6]. Total Successes: 0.
Initiative 13

Ein Initiative Roll: [3]. Total Successes: 0.
Initiative 18

Einherjar: Activating Multi-tasking 1qp, Enhanced Movement 1qp: 14 qp remaining
Wits roll for multitasking Roll: [8, 7, 3, 2, 9] + mega [10, 3]. Total Successes: 6.

Taking 3 actions: Penalties are -1, -2, -2

First action= Dodge roll as he closes
Dodge roll Roll: [9, 3, 2, 2, 7, 9, 6, 6, 6] + mega [5, 5, 7]. Total Successes: 5.

Steelbolt: firing the big-ass gun on full-auto
Dex + Firearms +10 - 3 (no Mega-dex)
Roll: [3, 9, 2, 9, 8, 1, 2, 2, 6, 7, 5, 8, 5]. Total Successes: 5.

Defender wins!

The sound of the BFG in the ravine was deafening, a jet of flame fully two metres in length emerging from the barrels as Steelbolt tightened down on the trigger fully, sending 150 depleted uranium 30mm shells per second at the charging Einherjar. The sound was almost physical, the reverberations pressing against both men as the slugs whined hungrily around and past the fast-moving rogue Elite in the second it took him to close the distance.

"Fuuuu-" Steelbolt tried to keep the roaring assault cannon on his target, but the thing was unwieldy even to those strong enough to carry it, and Einherjar was too damn fast. "-cckkk!"

Click to reveal..

Attack roll 1: Aiming for Steebolt. Dex + Melee + 1 (Ambidextrous) + 1 (Specialty) -2
Roll: [4, 10, 7, 1, 6, 8, 2, 8, 10, 4, ...succs: -10 soak

Damage 15L + 20d10L - 9 Lethal soak (19 reduced by 10) = 6L+ 20d10L
Roll: [3, 8, 4, 3, 5, 8, 6, 6, 7, 1, 4, 7, 1, 1, 7, 1, 6, 1, 1, 6]. Total Successes: 5.

11 Lethal

Attack roll 2: Aiming for Steelbolt. Dex + Melee + 1 (Ambidextrous) + 1 (Specialty) -2
Roll: [1, 7, 1, 10, 3, 8, 9, 7, 4, 1, 7] + mega [9, 7, 10]. Total Successes: 13.
12 net succs: -24 soak

Damage 15L + 20d10L - 0 Lethal soak (19 reduced by 24) = 15L+ 20d10L
Roll: [8, 8, 8, 4, 3, 1, 4, 6, 7, 2, 6, 9, 7, 1, 3, 6, 7, 3, 4, 7]. Total Successes: 8.

23 Lethal damage

The axe and sword came up together, criss-crossing at neck height faster than even most nova eyes would be able to follow. Steelbolt looked into the eyes of his once-comrade, feeling incredible searing pain for a moment as the heat-sapping cold of the blades passed through his metallic flesh and bone. Then his fingers loosened on the gun and it fell to the rocky ground.

"I'm sorry, old friend." Einherjar told him with cool regret, the icy glow of his eyes filling Steelbolt's fading world. "Remember, where ever you end up: I asked you to turn away. Rest in peace."

He stepped back, letting Steelbolt sink to his knees. The metallic Elite looked up dumbly, jaw slackening as the light left his eyes. Then the body fell backwards in an undignified sprawl, the head rolling clear and bouncing for a few feet as, in death, Steelbolt's body once more became flesh.

Einherjar sheathed his weapons once more and knelt, picking up Steelbolt's head and placing it on the chest in the hands of the corpse, looking up at the sky. Then he closed the staring eyes and stayed there, head bowed, for a long moment. Whether he prayed for him, or whether he merely remembered the fallen Elite none could say. But when he walked away, taking the BFG with him, Steelbolt's mask, a trophy to many, was likewise placed on the dead Elite's chest.

[Eingar]

0800 hours, 15th May, ten miles from the Ugandan border.

The mist wasn't natural, Colonel Mutkani knew, a worried frown creasing his forehead as he peered fruitlessly out into the roiling white mass. It was cold and moisture laden, as though a cloud had been pulled down from the sky and enveloped the entire regiment under his command. And the Colonel wished he hadn't thought of it in those terms, because that meant there was a nova still alive out there who had such power. The nova mercenaries had failed.

A shape loomed out of the fog to his right and Mutkani jumped slightly, then relaxed as he realised it was his aide, Kawanda. The Major looked at the fog, nervousness concealed behind his professional mask, and then at his commanding officer.

"The fog, it extends for miles. All the way to the jungle. The air force say that they cannot see anything, and that the planes they had up there have had to return to a different airfield as Tingba is fogbound." He looked expectantly at his superior. "He is still alive, Colonel. The men all know it, and they are frightened, but they will stand and fight for you."

"We cannot call bombs or artillery on him. We cannot see him or the refugees, Major. This-" the Colonel swept an arm viciously at the surrounding fog "- is his work. He sends fog when he could just as easily send a storm." The Colonel lifted his radio and pressed the button. "Forward posts, have you seen anything?" There was a pause, then a crackle as one by one, the four observers he'd sent out earlier called in that no, they'd seen nothing.

"Twelve thousand people, Major, and they see nothing!" The Colonel laughed humorlessly. "You see? He will sneak them by us - fog means nothing to him, count on it. We mean nothing to him."

"He is just one man, Colonel." the Major began, but was cut off.

"No. He is a nova. He is an Elite nova, Kawanda. And you and I are not." The colonel stared out at the fog and sighed. "Why does he not attack?"

"Because there is no need to." came a rumbling, leonine voice from overhead. Both men started, reaching for their sidearms as Einherjar descended slowly, the soft glow of his aura diffused by the fog as he landed in front of them.

"Draw them and die." He promised in a flat, uncaring tone, pale blue eyes glowing faintly as he looked at the Colonel. "And then your men will die. Terribly. I will snuff out their lives like a child treads on ants." Both men quailed at the perfectly inhuman resolve behind that declaration, the icy gaze that reduced them to nothing, and they shrank a little where they stood as the giant of a man stepped closer, holding out his hand expectantly. His weapons were sheathed, and the BFG slung on his back, but the sense of potential violence was heavy enough in the air to taste. "The radio." he said evenly. Mutkani handed it over slack-fingeredly. Einherjar raised it to his mouth, his eyes still on the Colonel.

"Attention, Congolese forces." he rumbled in perfect French. "This is Einherjar, and I have your Colonel here in the palm of my hand. You have heard what I have done, and have a clue what I am capable of. You know that you are not facing untrained rabble, but me this day. I say this to you now, each and every man: lay down your arms. I am taking the people under my care through your lines. If one of them is hurt, if a single shot is fired, I will kill every single soldier hearing my voice right now. My sword knows you, I will find you, and you will all end your lives screaming. And then I will go to your towns, your homes, and visit them with storm and flood until nothing and none remain." He said this matter of factly, the coldly implacable threat of his words irrefutable, and when he'd finished the Elite tossed the radio back to the Colonel. "Tell them to stand down."

"Thi- this is Colonel Mutkani." the terrified man wanted to get this done, wanted the grim specter of the warrior before him to leave. He'd never been so afraid in his life, but something about the Elite was more terrifying than the prospect of mere death. He swallowed and continued. "Stand down! That is an order! This man speaks the truth. Do nothing to rouse his anger! That is also an order! Unit leaders, acknowledge!"

A chorus of acknowledgements came in, and he looked up at Einherjar expectantly. He is not a man. No man could scare me so. Not human. Not human at all! The towering Elite nodded, and the mist dispersed.

It was as though it had never been. The fog lifted in a matter of seconds, revealing a sea of people not 200 yards from the army's forward line. They were carrying small children, bundles of belongings, and the sick or weak on stretchers. As they saw Einherjar they cheered and moved forwards as fast as they could, pushing past the tanks, the shaken troops, the artillery pieces, the APC's and moving on towards the border. They laughed and chattered, hope and relief in their faces as they flowed past the unmoving army like a tide around rocks.

It took maybe an hour before they were all gone, dots on the horizon now, and Einherjar had stood like a statue next to the Colonel the entire time. The army had all stayed put, some talking quietly in little knots about what would happen, but the majority fearfully praying that the sword hanging over their heads would not fall. Finally Ein moved, casting a glance at the Colonel in parting.

"Don't come after us. Stay here, or return to base, or go to hell. But don't come after us. Or you might just live long enough to regret it." he told the man evenly, then took to the sky, arcing to the east on a trail of blue-white light.

[Eingar]

0930 hours, 15th May, the Congo/Uganda border.

"Ready?"

"Yeah." James Najarian adjusted his eufiber khaki jacket and readied his mic. The handsome 'face man' of the multi-award winning, multi-million dollar making pair smiled at the nervous looking Ugandan troops nearby, then looked off west, into the distance beyond the border.

"You know DeVries are gonna be pissed that we didn't take them up on that Praetoria interview." Christopher Gaal said quietly.

"Hell with it." Najarian said with a cavalier confidence he didn't entirely feel. "We go where the best stories are, and Anna DeVries showing us around her ranch is not as big as this. Roll 'em." Gaal nodded and raised the camera, levelling it at his partner.

"On in three, two..." the cameraman held up a finger, mouthing one, then pointed at Najarian, who immediately adopted an expression of sober earnestness.

*Recording begins:*

"We're here at the border post, a thin stretch of wire fencing that stretches across the road between the country of Uganda and it's western neighbour, the Democratic Republic of the Congo. The mood is one of nervous anticipation as Uganda's baseline forces, reinforced we are told by several of Uganda's own novas, await the arrival of the rumored force of interhamwe bandits led by the rogue Elite, Einherjar." Najarian told the viewers somberly. Gaal panned the camera over the troops, tanks and APCs arrayed at the border, focusing for a moment on a group of four novas who were obviously the Ugandan elites. One of them gave the camera a thumbs-up and a grin, but the others all had serious game faces in place. "We have also heard word that Team Tomorrow will be sending representatives to assist Uganda with maintaining the sovereignty of it's borders, at the government's request."

"Reports vary as to the size of the army at Einherjar's back, but an hour or two ago we saw a huge fogbank envelop what the Ugandan commander told us was the Congolese forces sent to intercept this body of men. The fog lifted at roughly 08:30, local time, and from what we can tell there was no fighting. Now only this stretch of wire and manpower stands between Uganda and an uncertain fate." Najarian broke off as Gaal signalled him, pointing to the western horizon. "Wait, we can see something. It looks like a large number of people heading this way on foot. Come with us now as we go to take a closer look." The two reporters took to the air, flying steadily towards the west.

The dark mass on the horizon was indeed a huge mass of people, spread out in large clumps walking determinedly towards the border. Gaal's expensive camera zoomed in, ranging over those below, some of whom pointed up excitedly and unslung weapons. There were shouted orders and the weapons were lowered, and the cameraman expertly picked out several men in paramilitary fatigues in each cluster of people, issuing orders in rapid French, Swahili, and other languages. More telling was that the numbers of armed men were few: the vast majority of the horde below were women, children, the old and infirm, and some on stretchers being carried. Almost everyone had a bundle of belongings, and many looked weary yet hopeful. Gaal panned back to Najarian, hovering slightly above him so that both reporter and the people below were in the shot.

"Behind and below me it can clearly be seen that, rather than a dangerous force of bandits, this seems to be a lot of displaced refugees. This is clear confirmation of what Doctors Without Borders have told us: that the Congolese army were attempting to exterminate innocent men, women and children. What this means regarding Kinshasa's accusations of mass-murder against Einherjar, there is no telling at this time. But it does not look good for the Asani regime." Najarian turned, scanning the crowd below, some of whom waved up. "Let's see if we can find the man himself. There he is." The reporter pointed, and the camera followed to zoom in on a tawny blond head of hair at the front edge of the mob. Einherjar was walking purposefully, weapons slung and a child on each shoulder, the cluster around him mainly women and children. As the camera watched, he let one child down into her mother's arms and swung a little boy up in her place, seemingly at random from the clamoring children around him.

"Clever bastard." Gaal said admiringly under his breath, knowing that his partner would hear it but the mic would not. Besides, that's what sound editing was for. Currently off-camera, Najarian looked back at him and smiled, nodding agreement. Of course it was clever. The sight of Einherjar with a child on each shoulder, leading refugees to safety, was a Time magazine cover of the year. He'd managed to make DeVries look heartless and borderline incompetent, and Asani look like what he was: an oppressive dictator. Both reporter and cameraman were cynical enough to realise that it was probably calculated on Einherjar's part.

"There's Einherjar. We're going to try and talk to him." Najarian said as he swooped closer, landing a short distance ahead of the horde. "Einherjar!" he called as the big Elite came closer, raising a hand in greeting.

"James." Einherjar said in return, not slowing. "Mind if we walk and talk? I'm on a schedule." He flashed a grin, white teeth against the sun-bronzed tan of his face. Najarian nodded and fell in beside him, Gaal hovering a few feet further away, keeping them both in shot.

"The answer might be obvious, but what's going on?" Najarian asked, smiling at the children as he pointed his mic at the warrior in their midst.

"I'm taking these people to Uganda." Einherjar answered simply, his eyes scanning the border post ahead. He stopped and raised a hand. Gradually, like the tide itself was stopping at his command, the spread out column came to a halt behind him, people passing the word to stop. Murmuring reassurance in French, Einherjar handed the children to their mothers and moved out from the group.

"What if the Ugandan government turns them away?" Najarian asked, walking alongside Einherjar as he headed on towards the border post. The Elite turned icy eyes his way and smiled, an expression that had little humor in it.

"They won't. Otherwise they'll seem just as bad as Asani: worse in fact, seeing as Uganda's president has condemned Asani's record on human rights on multiple occcasions. I don't believe the man is a hypocrite, and I would hope to be proven right."

"But if they do refuse entry to these people?" Najarian pressed. They were scant meters from the gate now, and the four Ugandan elites were standing in the path. Einherjar sized them up, then looked at Najarian.

"That would be unfortunate." He moved to meet the other novas.

"What is it you wish here?" the leader demanded, the glowing white of his eyes eerie as the dark purple light that played under his skin.

"Behind me are poor people, innocent people victimised by the ruthless Asani regime. They wish only to escape the fate the Congolese army wants to visit on them." Einherjar replied, then looked past the elites at the blue and white eufiber suits that waited beyond.

"I want to place these people under the protection of Team Tomorrow." he proclaimed loudly, his booming voice carrying. "They are hungry, and there are sick and injured among them. Any weapons they have, they will surrender."

The camera zoomed in on the Tomorrowites, revealing the chiselled, tall and muscular form of Caestus Pax standing at their head. With him were three other members of T2M Central, all of them looking the part: heroes, saviours. With the camera upon them, could they refuse?

"Team Tomorrow will look after these people, and assist the Ugandan government in their humanitarian goals." Caestus Pax replied without even a pause. Najarian suspected that Utopia had briefed him, that T2M's presence here was because they knew the truth all along. Of course Utopia would want to assist in making DeVries and Asani look bad. The Ugandan novas stepped aside, smiling as they, too, played their scripted parts. Einherjar looked back at the crowd and motioned them forwards before stepping over to Caestus Pax. Gaal did a slow pan of the happy, relieved faces approaching the border crossing before turning to take in the sight of the two large men shaking hands.

"We've known what you were up to since the Doctors Without Borders people talked to T2M Europe." Pax said with a smile. "I am glad - Utopia is glad - that there are novas like you who value human life above money, and will fight to defend that sanctity. It is a deep shame that so many lives were lost in the process of these being saved, however." The bald Utopian looked stoically saddened, his gaze faintly reproachful as he looked at Einherjar.

"The lives of child-murderers and rapists mean little." Einherjar said without so much as an eyeblink. "The world is probably a better place for it." He paused, then smiled. "Thank you. For looking after them. This was the only part I wasn't sure about, the only thing I couldn't plan for. I didn't want to invade Uganda, believe me."

"I do." Pax said with a nod, aware of the camera on him. "You know that the Ugandan government don't want you to cross the border, don't you."

"I thought they might take exception." Einherjar said with a shrug and a wry grin.

"But if you surrendered to our custody while the mass-murder charge was investigated...?" Pax suggested. Einherjar shook his head.

"No." he said. "I will not agree to be put on trial when I have committed no crime. I did that once, in another life. Never again."

"Very well." Pax said with a frown. "Goodbye, Einherjar." With that, he turned and stalked away, heading over to the rest of the Utopia contingent. Ein watched him go, then turned to Najarian.

"What will you do now?" the reporter asked. Ein looked around at the sea of people, people he'd saved, people who he'd delivered safely as promised, then he looked back at Najarian and grinned.

"I don't know. Right now I kind of feel like Santa Claus." he chuckled, rubbing at his neck ruefully, then looking back at the country to the west. Finally he looked at Najarian again, the glowing ice of his eyes twinkling.

"Seriously. You're fired from DeVries, your assets have been frozen, you're famous for defying a whole country, and I'm sure every dictator in central Africa is nervous. What's next for Einherjar?" Najarian pressed. Ein thought for a moment, looked at the ground, then raised his shaggy head and winked.

"No comment." he said with a smile as he started to float upwards, before accelerating away straight up. The camera remained on him until he was out of sight.

*Recording Ends*