(Loki) The Veins of Ragnarok (Closed)

Aboard the Yorktown.

Commander Udari stood beside the Captain of the ship, glancing at his superiors expression, before returning his attention to the view screen. Captain Olivier Primeaux frowned severely at the view Sarah was transmitting, her flare bringing the chasm into greater focus. The evidence of battle changed the whole dynamic of the situation, and not for the better. Not only did they have people in need of assistance, but were likely dealing with a hostile element.

"Get the crew into combat alert."

The captain ordered quietly, his deep baritone clear to Udari's ears, the commander already moving to bark everyone into readiness. It was game time now.

The captain patched into the com, answering Sarah directly.

"Rescue team, this is the Captain. Intel suggested that insurgent activity in the Asgard system was an extremely unlikely cause of the beacon's activation, but wasn't ruled out. There are several Terra Nova based groups that have bristled at SATAE's intervention in the Asgard System, but none have committed any violent action against us. Also, there have been no ships seen in proximity to Loki, beyond our own survey teams, within the last few months. Its possible that someone might have slipped in unobserved, or already been using the caverns prior to our return to Asgard. We'll continue to scan for possible signals, and we'll update you accordingly. Your mission remains the same: Find our people and bring them back. We'll be ready to give any assistance you can, but the lives of those marines are your top priority. Exercise caution when warranted, but do not waste time. Devoting resources to deal with these hostiles is a secondary matter. Acknowledge."


Captain Primeaux ordered, his voice firm.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Present time

As the captain relayed his orders, Icarus and his team went into the chasm, which had been further illuminated by Sarah's flare. The journey down was slightly treacherous due to the uneven nature of the chasm's outer edges. Due to the light and closer proximity, they were able to see evidence of the shuttle. Pieces of it anyway, peeking out of the snow, scattered in several.

The beacons signal grew ever stronger, until, at last, they found it, hidden beneath the scattered fragments. It had been damaged, its circuitry exposed to the elements. Whatever had damaged it had eaten through its protective shell, perhaps a particle weapon of some kind? No sooner had the PFC shifted it did it power down, exposure doing it in. But the beacon was attached to the shuttle's black box, which appeared battered, but the data inside was likely safe. If there was answer about what had happened, it would be in that box.

Nearby, on the opposite side of the chasm, was an entrance to the cavern system. It stood ominously, like a pair of waiting jaws
--------------------------------

Three hours, Thirty Three minutes in the past

The journey back to the surface, expedited by the already mapped pathways and breadcrumb trail of flares, had been achieved in record time, compared to the hours spent in careful exploration. Within fifteen minutes, the fireteam traded the darkness of the caves for the darkness of Loki's night sky. The other half of the squad, led by Corporal Hammond, had already breached the surface, and the shuttle's pilot was already beginning preflight checks.

It was time to head out.

Icarus managed to retrieve the black box from it's casing. That's one problem down, now they needed to find any survivors. He switched to his long range radio, hailing the Yorktown. "Commander, this is rescue team. Crash site has been confirmed. Black box retrieved, no survivors in the area. There's a cavern system connected to the fissure caused by the crash, requesting permission to widen search for survivors through here."

"Icarus, stay sharp." She'd straighten her posture and toss him a flare. "Here. If you've never used them- Click the button at the top, don't touch or look into the hot end." She'd peer down the way, giving him a thumbs up and 'go' motion with her hand. "I've got all of your backs."

Sarah glanced back at Stefan briefly, then forward. "Come on, come down to an iceball in the ass end of nowhere, we'll have some beers, share some laughs.." she spoke with a strained tone.

Three Hours, Thirty Minutes in the past

Private Rajapaske followed PFC Jackson under the dull sky of Loki, the shuttle a smear of blue and white in the clinging black. Bach was behind her, watching the fireteam's six. An uneventful mission, she thought, but half of it was practice.

And these shiny new Marines would need it when they were deployed. She tried not to think of the war, but this kind of thing-this surveying planets in Alliance space and standing around looking pretty for whatever admiral was touring whatever blasted scrap heap they were guarding, that stung. A year ago she'd been scouting enemy positions and hiding from Reaper patrols.

Maybe once they got off this chunk of rock, she could get a transfer. Get back out in it. Actually fire her gun instead of pointing it at shadows.
The ground shivered.

"Have I ever told you I have a fear if being buried alive?" Bach asked her.

"No survivors - but no signs of any casualties, either," he elaborated on Private Icarus's statement. No smuggler or pirate could keep such a low profile that they would last a few weeks - let alone a few months - on this barren rock of a planet without drawing attention - so why was all this ammunition wasted, then? It would have to be a pretty sustained incident of friendly fire. Urbanski was beginning to get the same feeling about this mission as Thompson. Looking back at her, he rolled his eyes. "We always go to the nicest places, huh?"

As Icarus's team moved into the cavern, Urbanski cautiously moved down into the chasm to investigate the crash site. Examining the remnants of the beacon and its protective shell, he frowned. The wreckage was unusual, it didn't have the same telltale signs of conventional combat as the firefight did. He said over his radio to Thompson, "Lieutenant, you may want to take a look at this." A pause. "The beacon was damaged, and it couldn't have been mass accelerator rounds. Its protective layers were..." He searched for the right descriptor, "burnt through, it looks like."

He opened a vid-line to command so they could get a look at it. "See what I'm saying? Not exactly what you expect from standard ordnance."

"You never take me anywhere nice." Sarah quipped, following Stefan over to take a look at the beacon. After he radioed command, she piped in, speaking to all channels. "All callsigns, the beacon appears to have been melted." She crouched down to try to get a closer look, holding the shotgun between her leg and her gut. "Incendiary rounds are unlikely with the cold.." She'd wipe her palm against her visor, cleaning it of flecks of snow, before standing again.

"Eyes sharp, girls. Keep your guns loaded and your senses aware. I'm not liking our objective's chances. Icarus, I want your men to look for any signs of footprints leading to and from this area."

Present

"Permission granted, rescue team. Upload the contents of the black box to us. Have you had any luck trying to raise any survivors through the communications channels?

The captain asked, reasonably. If any of the lost marines were still among the living, they'd still have their built in communicators in their helmets.

Three Hours, Twenty Nine minutes in the past..

The rifleman glanced over at Bach, about to interject into the conversation, when the whole world went wrong. For the troops on the ground, it was the jarring effect of the ground beneath their feet, as it shifted to a quiet rumble to a violent quake.

For the shuttle pilot and Corporal Hammond, it was the sound of movement, a portion of the stars in the sky being replaced by a sinuous black shadow that grew larger and larger and larger and-




The pilot had enough time to think the words, but his lips were only slightly parted, when his shuttle found itself clamped firmly within the flexible mandibles of a Thresher Maw. The beast worked quickly, using both strength and its acidic secretions to burrow into the kodiak like a chef taking apart a lobster's shell for the soft meat within. The only marine in the ship who'd survived the initial impact, had enough time to look through his cracked visor to see the livewire blue proboscis extend into the craft, before it speared through his lungs. He couldn't even scream, as the acid easily burned away at his flesh and armor.

The beast hungrily relieved the shuttle of its contents, ripping it apart like cheap tinfoil, scattering the fragments across the chasm, including the beacon and black box that would be discovered in several hours. Once finished, it turned its four large pupil lacking eyes towards the surviving marines on the ground, its need for food far from sated....

"We're cycling through short range channels trying to get signal responses, nothing so far. Standby." He stated over his radio. The trio kept moving forward through the ice tunnel, Icarus sweeping his motion detector left and right for anything over then themselves moving.

"Yes Ma'am, we're sweeping down the tunnel now." He spoke to burke. As they walked, one of his squadmates, a woman, spoke up.

"I wonder what caused this tunnel in the first place."

"Beats me, we'll figure it out after we finish the search." Icarus responded.

"This is Second Lieutenant Sarah Thompson of the Systems Alliance, broadcasting to all available frequencies. If you are a survivor on Loki, respond. We are here to rescue you and we need you to respond. I will repeat this message five times." She held a hand to her ear and straightened her posture, going through the applications in her helmet's transmitter- And she transmitted the message as she'd said.

Something bugged her- A crawling feeling in the pit of her stomach. Dread? The sense of something bad about to happen- The woman glanced back to Icarus. "Don't spread out too far. I'm getting the feeling we're not going to be getting many responses."

Three Hours, Twenty-Nine Minutes In The Past

For a terrible, stretching second, the thresher maw rose above the Marines and they were frozen, held in the grip of base animal fear at its casual destruction of their only way off their planet (and much of their heavier ordnance was gone with those cannons). But then training kicked in and Rajapaske could feel her heart pounding in her ears, adrenaline rushing through her as Jackson shouted a single word.

"Run!"

Rajapaske swore as she obeyed, shoving the rifleman to ensure he'd move. Bach was yelling swear words as he sprinted, what was left of the squad scattering-a drill learnt in Hostile Enviroment Training, designed to make it harder for the maw to take them all out at once. Gunfire shattered the night sky,flashes of rounds sent at the beast.

It was possible to take a maw out with a Kodiak or a Mako. On foot though...well, this could be problematic. She spun, pulled the trigger of the LMG. It thundered to life, braced against her armoured shoulder. The slugs poured out, joining the stream of fire directed at the maw.

"This is PFC Jackson," Jackson was saying over comms, "I'm taking command. CASREP now!"

Three hours, 28 minutes in the past

The marines, despite initially reacting in accordance to the primordial instincts hardwired in that screamed into wakefullness at the sight of a monster that put the Wyrms of legend to shame, crystallized into the highly trained warriors the Alliance made of its recruits. Those closest to the Maw bolted, survivors from Hammond's team, while Jackson's Fireteam, while retreating as ordered, gave their comrades covering fire, hopefully diverting the creature's attention.

The Maw itself was typically sized, a living leviathan to the scattering humans on the ground, but still dwarfed to the monstrous broods native to Tuchanka. Kalros herself could have easily devoured it, but that was cold comfort to the survey team. On this world, it may as well have been Jörmungandr, the World Serpent, one of Loki's three quasi demonic heirs, come from the legends of Ragnarok to devour them all.

The response to the CASREP was slightly disorganized, but after a moment, the picture became clear. Corporal Hammond's fireteam of six had been cut down by 2/3, plus, with the death of the shuttle pilot, that left PFC Jackson his four man team, including himself, and two survivors. Six marines in total.

So it was a surprise when a seventh marine with Corporal Hammond's voice, brittle and disoriented, was heard on the com.

"Jackson, I..can't feel my legs, I.."

The pained voice became, reduced quiet sobs of agony, her breath increasingly rapid. Hammond hadn't been in the shuttle when the Maw had erupted from the ground, but she'd been close, waiting for Jackson's team to arrive before setting foot on the ship. Zooming in with their helmet's HUD, Hammond's form could just be seen, the lower half of her body trapped under a piece of the shuttle's wreckage pinning her down. The Maw was roughly thirty feet away, its undulating bulk dwarfing her comparatively tiny form. Unless something was done, the corporal would die, crushed, devoured, or even left alone to fade away in the cold darkness of Loki.

The squad's rifleman, shrugging off Rajapaske's grip, activated his com.
"Sir, permission to get the Corporal!?"

The green marine, asked, slightly frantic. He may have been frightened, but he was an Alliance Marine, and they didn't leave their own to die. Not when they didn't have a choice.

Jörmungandr itself, vaguely irritated by the annoying stings that were coating its chitinous hide, opened it maw wide, and sprayed a violently acidic glob in the direction of the scattering soldiers. Had it a less basic intelligence, it might have just submerged, and picked them off, one by one.

-------
Present
The caverns of Loki, or the Hel Caves as they were denoted in this only recently charted region, were absolutely massive. The rescue team had only just walked in, and the Alliance's interest in utilizing them became increasingly understandable. Not only were there so many, tunnel entrances in several directions, but they were extremely regular, making travel, either on foot or vehicle, a very viable proposition.

This particular cavern had suffered some recent disturbances however. There were rocks scattered everywhere, as through something massive had smashed its way in. The cavern entrance seemed somewhat unstable as a result.

The comline, which had been quiet till now, briefly erupted into static, before quieting down. There may have been a voice, but interference was proving a major deterrent.

Meanwhile, aboard the Yorktown, the data transmitted from the blackbox was being sifted through, looking for answers on what had happened on the surface of Loki...

"Command, can you bring the Mako to us with VI command? I've got a garbled response- But we're going to have to go further in. Going on foot was mistake. I'm setting a marker on the TAC-COM now, over." She activated her omnitool, going through the map on her visor.
A mark was made where they were.

"Icarus, what do you think?"

Three Hours, Twenty-five Minutes in the Past

At the rifleman's words, Rajapaske spared him a glance, though the rata-tat-tat of her LMG never halted. He had to be crazy, right? There was a thresher maw there. But...she'd seen a lot of good Marines die, some of them screaming, some quiet, some praying for salvation tha never came. It seemed cruelly unfair that they should die here, because of a survey mission and a dumb beast. Corporal Hammond has survived the Reapers. She'd survive this too, if Private Rajapaske had anything to say about it.

Which she probably didn't but if the other Marine wanted to grab Hammond, she'd help him as much as she could.

Jackson threw himself to the side, away from the spray of acid. Rajapaske went the other way, grunting as her armoured shoulder collided with the icy ground. She rolled to her feet, gripping her gun tightly. Her breathing was loud. Adrenaline pounded through her. A tight grin stretched across her face.

"Permission granted," Jackson grunted, "Be careful Private. We can't afford to drag two Marines out of there."

Rajapaske spoke, her voice drawn tight with tension or exhilaration, "I'll cover you and keep its attention off you." She lifted the Typhoon and fired again.

"Think there was a voice in all that?" He asked the Lieutenant. "Good idea to bring the rest of the lads down here. If there are any survivors they're deeper down the tunnel, I'll bet."

Urbanski looked around the tunnel at the handful of other marines who accompanied them. "Dobrescu, straighten up!" He pierced the silence sharply and one slouching trooper stood much more alert, almost as if his blood just ran as ice cold as Loki. "Stay frosty, people."

Looking back to Thompson, he remarked, "Don't think incendiaries would do that... That casing is made to last." Urbanski searched his mind for a few seconds, thinking of similar instances he'd seen in the past. What could melt through this and expose the beacon's circuits like that? He could think of only one similarity - but that was in the Reaper War. "Almost looked like a couple of those little Reaper bugs got on it - remember those? When those things blew up on people, they ate through armor fast." His question was essentially rhetorical - anyone who'd seen what the Reapers did would never forget it.

He added, "Not that I think there are fucking Reapers here, of course. Just the best example I could think of."

Present

VI interference wasn't neccesary to have the makos reunite with the team. One marine each had elected to stay with the vehicles ealier in the mission, in the likely event that vehicular mobility became an issue. When Sarah's request for aid came on the line, the two mobile tanks were revved to readiness, the rapidly accumulated frost melting in protest, before they began to make their way to the chasm, the heavy treads breaking through ice and rock with ease.

Meanwhile, in the cave, some of the junior members of the rescue squad shifted uneasily at the mention of Reapers. Here, in the subterranean darkness of Loki, the shadows that fled from their lights seemed especially sinister, taking the shape of the horrors of yesteryear. Could the Reapers have reverted back to their omnicidal state? It shouldn't have been possible, but that didn't stop the soldiers from gripping their weapons a little firmer than they otherwise might have.

In any event, they had a choice to make. Push further into the caves, or wait for the Mako's trundling toward them, the noise vaguely audible through their helmets.

Two hours, Twenty two minutes in the past.

The marine nodded to Rajapaske, and proceeded to bolt in the the direction of the building sized monstrosity menacing his team. From his perspective, what was already massive, just kept getting bigger, every step reinforcing that he was intentionally getting closer to something that could easily swallow him whole.

Don't look at it. Just focus on Hammond. Get Hammond.

Of course, not looking at it was increasingly difficult, so long as it was so bloody huge. But somehow he managed, stopping at the wreckage that had pinned the corporal to the ground.

As for Jormungandr, the serpent's hunger was growing impatient. It began to descend, intending to submerge and resurface, when it noted the little fleshling coming closer to it.

Food.

It began to rear its serpentine bulk for a swift lunge when one of the annoying stings nicked one of its aircar sized eyes. The beast twitched, before focusing on the source, the fleshbits nearest the cavern.

With an earpounding snarl, Jormungandr lungled, burrowing throught ground with the ease of a fish going downstream, rapidly homing in on the source. The rifleman, while not the target, was still pushed off the soil for his trouble, taking a rough tumble for a bit, before unsteadily rising up.

I'm gonna feel that tommorow. He thought, shaking off the white from his vision, the kiss of pain overridden by adrenaline. Thank God for Alliance genemods.

With a huff of strength, he lifted the wreckage from Corporal Hammond's legs, lifted the wounded sister in arms as carefully as he could, before looking to see how Jackson and Rajapaske had responded to the oncoming leviathan.

"I say we wait, girls. Makos are on the way, then we're going to run sweeps through the cave system. Traveling on foot will take ages and we don't know what's down there. Command, how's that black box coming?"

Two Hours, Twenty Minutes in the Past

When the maw struck, Rajapaske had one thought.

Fuck

She backpeddled desperately, putting every ounce of gene-modded strength and endurance into that one move. Dying here would suck. She'd survived the war goddamnit! The movement had her stumbling back into the mouth of the cavern, the maw's lunge far far too close for comfort. Panting she ejected the heatsink from the Typhoon and tried to re-orientate herself. Confusion could be deadly and where were Bach and Jackson-

Ah, there was Jackson, still in one piece, shaking himself to get rid of the disorientation the knock had given him.

Bach...that was his voice, a low groan of agony. He was still on his feet, but he was scrabbling at his armour, "get it off me," he chanted, voice high and panicked. The blue surface of his chestplate was bubbling and a sick feeling rose in her throat.

She stumbled forward, grabbing his arm, careful to avoid the acid, "C'mon Private. Move-it's going to come back."

"Get it off," The whites of his eyes were showing. She pulled a bottle of water out of her webbing and tried to wash some of it off but it wasn't working-

"Get him moving Rajapaske," Jackson ordered, before switching on his comm to contact the rifleman, "Private, report."

Now they just had to wait for those Makos to get here. Moving through these creepy tunnels looking for clues as to the squad's disappearance was bad enough. But waiting in such a place, with such an unsettling atmosphere, could have effects on the marines' nerves. It wouldn't do to have them get all jumpy on a rescue mission. Over the squad radio he said, "Remember, people, we're down here looking for marines. If you see something move, try to identify it and tell everyone else. Odds are, it'll be a friendly."

Hopefully Icarus's team would give a report soon. He looked at the Lieutenant and sighed quietly. Over a private channel, he said to her, "Got any theories?"