(Loki) The Veins of Ragnarok (Closed)

Loki, the fourth planet in the Asgard system, continued spin in alignment alongside the celestial bodies of Borr, Tyr, and proud Terra Nova, who had eschewed a name from the Norse Pantheon. it had done so long before humanity had claimed this system, and would likely continue to do so long after they'd gone.

Compared to its fellows, Loki was a relatively tiny. The reality of this was currently being exacerbated by system's sole gas giant, Borr, which possessed the mass of over six Jupiters, gravitating ninety moons around it. Loki possessed less than a tenth of the mass Earth was comprised of.

It seemed rather harmless. But like the cunning god that whose name it bore, Loki had its secrets. Some more dangerous than others.
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The alliance frigate, SSV Yorktown, had departed from Terra Nova several hours ago, after a rescue team had been rapidly assembled in response the fragmented distress beacon. As Loki grew steadily larger the closer their sublight engines brought them to the tiny planet, the ship's scanners produced an increasingly detailed picture.



Loki's two hemispheres were extremely inhospitable by varying extremes. The one currently illuminated by Asgard, from what could be seen past the gas clouds clouding the atmosphere, were the basaltic highlands, a vast expanse of rapidly ascending & descending igneous rock, evidence of a long past cataclysm. Records from previous exploration of the planet's surface indicated that traveling by foot or ground vehicles was extremely hazardous.

It was, perhaps, fortunate, that the gradually weakening and incomprehensible distress signal was located on Loki's darkside, a hemisphere coated with ice, and well bellow the freezing point. But far easier for the rescue team to circumnavigate.

Aboard the SSV Yorktown, members of the rescue team gathered in the war room, to receive one final debriefing, before descending onto the planet below.

Sarah Thompson sat while affixing the omniblade projector to the end of her shotgun's barrel. Her armor felt snug and new in all the wrong ways- It had been months- Maybe years since the last time she was in combat armor and carrying the weight around again was an oddly nostalgic feeling. She pressed her hand to the side of her rebreather helmet's visor, rendering it opaque. Rosenkrov. Minimal branding. Light blue on dark blue. Her biotic amp was primed- And for all intents and purposes, the woman was ready for action.


Or so she hoped. She kept her eyes ahead and activated the folding mechanism for her M-23, slipping it to the metal plate on the left side of her lower back, next to her handgun, all the while remaining as quiet as a field mouse, mentally going over her plans and the operation.

This would be his first time out of the gate in a while. Urbanski hadn't been on an extrasolar operation since the end of the Reaper War, and most of his postwar stuff was peacekeeping during rebuilding - until he got wounded, anyway. Much different from rescuing someone from such a barren hellhole of a planet. He hoped he hadn't gotten too rusty behind a desk on the Citadel - shooting ranges didn't substitute for the real thing. It was a good sign that he felt at home in his Onyx combat armor, at least. The marine took a last thorough look at his gear; his Carnifex with its attached scope, the Vindicator with its extended barrel. Incendiary rounds. The two weapons that had gotten him through the War. He rolled his neck, gear prepped. Time to get to it. The tools were up to par, now their operators just had to do their jobs. Just keep a cool head about you, and should the mission go south, never let surprise or panic get the advantage. And always have a contingency - and a contingency for the contingency in case that fails. A philosophy pretty well engrained into the veteran at this point, but he always mentally repeated it to himself before a mission. You never know what you'l find out there, what snags you'd hit. A hidden varren on Feros could pounce while you put down suppressive fire on an Armature, the smuggler base could have ex-SIU men running security, or the Cerberus loons on Arvuna could have a few dozen Reapers in storage. Semper paratus, as they say. Remembering that mission to Arvuna, he made a mental note to get in touch with Redford and Masterson (provided he survived the rest of the war) once they had got back from this operation.

Urbanski had heard about Loki before; it had a bit of a reputation for its diabolical dual environments. The planet looked as tranquil and beautiful as any from orbit - but of course, apparent danger had an inverse relationship with distance. Any poor bastard who was stuck there had his pity, that was for sure. Nodding at Thompson, he waited for their last debriefing to start.

Icarus had been getting into a lot of strange situations lately. For a year and change he'd been content with garrison and policing work. Sure it was boring, and sometimes dangerous, but it was better then nearly getting holed at Chavka 5, and then getting involved with N7, trying to unearth a cult that was on the Citadel. And then when that blew over, the garrison was getting mobilized for a rescue mission. Fate seemed to have caught up to Icarus as he entered the briefing room.

Four Hours Earlier

Beneath the frozen surface of Loki's dark side tunnels bored through rock and dirt, both extensive and oddly regular. When the Reapers had come, this tunnel system had become a hiding place. And perhaps once again it would be useful to the Systems Alliance.

The squad moving through the tunnels after having been dropped off by shuttle was just one in a succession of squads quietly sent to the planet by Command.

Even so, Private Lakshika Rajapaske was not having a good day. Such a mission was hardly the first of its kind she'd taken part in-she was a Recon Marine after all-but this was a damn milk run. This unit was greener than grass, with a handful of veterans sprinkled in for seasoning.

And where the fuck had these new Marines been during the war anyway?

The squad leader was close by, she could hear Corporal Hammond's low voice as she spoke to PFC Jackson, Rajapaske's fireteam leader. The Marines' eyes strained, imaging equipment bouncing of the walls and into the darkness. The recordings and maps they were making would find their way into the brass's hands, like others had before. And maybe soon some poor unit would get tasked with building a base here in this cold.

Which she swore was seeping under her skin, hardsuit or not.

"Why can't we ever get sent somewhere tropical?" Private Bach complained as Rajapaske swung her Typhoon LMG to cover an entrance to another tunnel. "Nope, we get 'Hell's Caverns' because that isn't fucking creepy."

"Hel Caves," She corrected, "One l."

"Still fucking creepy," Bach replied.

"Why do I keep you around again?" She muttered.

Bach smirked under his visor, "I'm carrying your extra heatsinks."

"Shut up," Jackson grumbled.

"Hey, I thought I joined the Marines for the banter," Bach quipped. There always had to be a fucking joker.

"Good for you," Rajapaske retorted, "I was conscripted."

He blinked. At least the rifleman of their fireteam was quiet.

Today was going to be a long day.

Present Time

The rescue squad had been a hastily assembled, and this showed as the war room filled in. At least two N's of varying classification, a biotic intelligence officer, and several standard leatherneck marines. The XO of the Yorktown, Lieutenant Commander Sarath Udari, leveled his gaze at them as they finished situating themselves. The distress beacon, disjointed as it was, had activated precisely three and a half hours ago, prompting a rushed assembly of qualified soldiers to achieve a rescue op.

Udari would have preferred a more synchronized unit of marines, but with lives possibly on the line, and the threat, if any, as of yet unknown, these marines would have to do in a pinch.

"Alright Marines, listen up. As you know, three and a half hours ago, a distress beacon was activated in the vicinity of Loki, fourth planet of the Asgard system, on the planet's frozen hemisphere. The beacon belongs to one of our shuttles, and judging from the increasingly corrupted signal, we can only conclude that the shuttle was somehow damaged by forces unknown."

Udari activated a detailed hologram of the planet, bringing into focus a region on the polar hemisphere.



"The shuttle landed here, with a squad of eight comprised of two fire teams, plus the pilot. They were the latest squad officially sent for training exercises for some of our newer recruits..."

The XO touched yellow circle, bringing into detail an incomplete map of something that had been affectionately labeled "Hel Caves".

"... Unofficially, they are there to map an extensive cavern system hidden beneath the ice. During the war, some of our forces used these caverns as a hiding place until they were safely extracted. What made these caverns noteworthy, despite being a natural phenomenon, troops and vehicles could safely traverse them without impediment. We've been discreetly rotating squads for the last few months, with the necessary equipment. This is the first time we've had any sort of problem like this."

He informed the potential rescuers, his words clipped and serious.

"We don't know what happened, but something damaged the beacon, and we haven't been able to raise any member of the squad. They may have gone so deep into the cave system that its interfering with our communications. Regardless, you will go down there, find out what happened, and bring our people home. Do you understand me, Marines?"

The unanimous affirmation, fierce and clear managed to form the crinkle of a approval in Udari's eyes.

"Damn right. We'll be dropping you off via the Makos, along with the neccessary equipment you'll need to travel through the ice, in ten minutes. Dismissed."

And with that, the marines were ready to got to work.
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3 hours, 55 minutes in the past

The five minutes that had passed by since Bach had inserted his foot in his mouth had been refreshingly quiet, as PFC Jackson's fire team crept deeper into the darkness of the Hel Caves, accompanied only by the light of their scanners, and their barely audible footsteps upon the dark stone.

The silent rifleman, technically the greenest person in the squad, was content to remain mute save when addressed by his squadmates, and even then he embraced brevity. It wasn't discipline that kept him silent, but fear. Loki had unnerved him the moment he'd stepped out of the transport, and going deep into the cold darkness wasn't helping at all. So, in his fear, the Private Third Class went through the motions, completing his job as mechanically as any of the scanners memorizing the tunnel system, helpfully updating the marines as they went deeper into the caves.

An irrational instinct combated the marines nerves, the sensation that the cave wasn't just dead rock and frost. That they were traveling through the veins of something of something ancient, living, and monstrous.

Which is ridiculous. These caves are a strange natural phenomenon, and nothing more. Hell, just by the smoothness of the exposed rock, I'd say water flows eroded them into being, before everything was just ice.

He reassured himself, letting logic comfort him, as his eyes scanned the wal-.

The rifleman paused at one particular wall, his weapon lowering slightly in confusion. Wait a minute.

He thought, accidentally breaking out of his team's formation, as he peered quizzically at the black stone.

Icarus nodded and got to his team. They filed their way to the armory and retrieved their weapons and armor. Their equipment was mostly standard issue for 2188, being regular garrison troops, with some non lethal weapons thrown into the mix. They made their way to the mako and stood at attention, waiting for the rescue team leader.

Sarah stepped out of the room and towards the vehicle bay. Sub-arctic temperatures. She thought of home, of a decidedly much warmer environment- And stepped into one of the Makos, waiting for Stefan to take a nearby seat. The woman grabbed the top of her head and her jaw, popping her neck. A few flexes of the arms and stretches- And she was ready. Thermal shields are optimal- Biotic amp is optimal. It was just a matter of getting down there and not freezing to death.

She was irritated for a few reasons- And her thoughts, once focused and honed, become scattered. Grabbing an overhead handle- She leaned to the side and barked at Icarus and the others, her voice filtered with the electronic tinge of her helmet's speakers. "Icarus- Don't forget an atmospheric shield. If you freeze to death down there, I'm going to say "I told you so." - That goes for the rest of you ladies as well."

Three Hours, 53 Minutes in the past

When the rifleman of Alpha team halted, so did the rest of the squad, shuddering to a stop like a machine. Many of the Marines dropped to one knees and formed an immediate defensive perimeter. It was unlikely they'd run into anything that would be capable of harming a Marine in his environmentally-sealed and shielded hardsuit, but it was good practice.

Muttering briefly under her breath Private Rajapaske moved to where the rifleman was standing, staring at the wall like there was some kind of secret to be found there. She kept the LMG pointed to the ground as Bach covered th nearest cave entrance.

"What's going on, Private?" She demanded in a low voice. Some of the greenhorns looked antsy. The darkness seemed a physical thing, pressing in on the plastic light shining from their helmets.

Three hours, fifty two minutes in the past.

The rifleman twitched minutely, belatedly realizing that he was holding up the squad. His DI would have torn him a new one, not for so much as halting the fireteam at the sight of an oddity, but that he didn't follow proper protocol, and alert everyone, as opposed to freezing up.

Rajapaske came up to him, and while the woman was several years his junior, barely an adult really, her grim eyes and brisk attitude affirmed her as a veteran and a superior, even if her height and features didn't.
The junior private swallowed dryly, before gesturing at the stone wall that had diverted his attention.

"S-sorry Ma'am. Its probably nothing but..."

The marine took a breath, before upping the power on his shoulder light, bringing what he was a looking at into greater detail.

"...Its this rock. It's different from the others."

He explained lamely, before pointing out exactly what he was talking about. The igneous rock was the same material they'd been travelling through for the last hour, but whereas the previous tunnels had been uniformly smooth and regulated, almost unaturally so, the wall the private had pointed out was different. This stone looked almost rotten in comparison, a scattered erosion that left myriad spiderweb cracks gouging into the rock.

The rifleman paused in explanation, before using his light on the tunnel ceiling and opposing wall, bringing into focus more of the "rot". Then, using the butt of his rifle, nudged the wall, causing a few minor fragments to chip away.


The Rifleman turned back to face Rajapaske, his eyes uncertain behind the visor of his helmet. "It just seems unusual, Ma'am."
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Present time.

With preparations complete, the time for the jump into atmosphere was steadily approaching.

The com crackled, and the deep baritone of the Yorktown's captain echoed in their ears.

"Rescue team, this is the captain. We will be within drop range within thirty seconds. We're getting some interference from a nearby storm, and the signal has been gradually weakening for some time. We've done our best to narrow down the location, but you'll a have better chance of isolating the beacon's location with closer proximity. We'll stay close, and ready to provide any air support we can. The mission is yours. Good luck."

Thirty seconds later, the Yorktown was in position.

"Drop commencing in 5. 4. 3. 2. 1."

For those in the Makos there was brief illusion of weightlessness, as their vehicles descended to the planet below, the effects of gravity dampened by their truck's jet propulsion, the key piece of technology that prevented the Makos and their occupants from being pancaked.

They'd arrived unharmed upon the surface of Loki.



The beacon's signal was faint, but detectable, emanating north of their current location.

Sarah was strapped in, but the anxiety of an atmospheric drop was still there- It's been a long time since she'd had one of these.
As she poured through her memories- Nothing came up. This was the first time this has happened. No big deal. She peered across the Mako's crew bay at Stefan, giving him a shaky thumbs up.

She spoke, her voice broadcasting to the commanding officer- A limited band transmission, just between the two. "XO. Tell me something- What were these men doing down here? If this was a simple rescue operation, you wouldn't be sending in Intel operators. What gut feeling do you have about this, off the record?" Blue eyes glanced across a hard, clear screen of her helmet at the other occupants of the mako.

There was a crackle on Sarah's private line, before Udari answered.

"...Honestly, the men were sent down for a simple scouting mission. But we are concerned that someone might have taken offense to the Alliance setting up shop on Loki. If it is enemy action, then you'll be best prepared to deal with it. The truth is we don't know what might be down there, and we're prepared for the worst. Be ready for anything."

The Yorktown's XO warned, before cutting communications.

Three Hours, Fifty Minutes in the past

The younger Marine frowned underneath her sealed visor, the light glinting off her dark armour, looking over the rifleman's shoulder at the stone he'd pointed out. You had to pay attention to the little things, the small details. That was how you survived when everything went to hell. She brushed past him to peer at the wall.

"Good catch, Private." Now, if he could stop being so unnerved, "But don't worry. It's not going to eat you."

Jackson's rough voice, "What's the hold up?"

"Rocks," She replied, deadpan, "Might be a weakness in the stone-I'll scan it." When the PFC nodded, she brought up her omnitool, the orange glow of it blanketing her chest plate and she scanned the wall, the waves penetrating into rock, searching.

Survey missions. Fascinating stuff.

And yet, something twisted in her gut.

He took a deep breath just before they dropped. Looking at Sarah, Stefan recognized her discomfort and returned the thumbs up. Then he whispered over a private band between the two, "First drop in a while? Don't worry. It'll be just a couple seconds." They remained in free fall for a few long, crucial seconds before landing. Now they had boots on the ground. Time to get on with the mission. "Welcome to Loki, marines." Now to head towards the beacon.

"I'll take point." She threw herself out of the Mako's door and boots crushed the disturbed snow below. The beacon was lit up in her visor- and with careful steps, she'd take a forward position- crouching to a kneel and unclipping the shotgun from her back. It'd fold open, and with a click, a very bright light shined from the emitter near the barrel.

She'd begin to wade through the snow towards the objective. "It's cold as hell at night on this rock." She'd mutter.

After Burke, 3 more marines jumped into the disturbed snow, carrying standard issue valkyries of varying length and kit. They all activated shoulder mounted flashlights and followed in the thin path of disturbed snow behind the woman. The two at the back of the line were shining their lights across the fields of snow to their left and right, keeping the area illuminated.

The one in the middle had a PFC rank insignia. He was holding a handheld device in his left hand that emitted a pipping noise every second or so.



"All the better to get to the beacon and get out." He swept the device left and right, keeping his valkyrie slung as he followed the two in front of him.

Three hours and 48 minutes in the past.

The rifleman shifted to the side, allowing Rajapaske greater room to complete her scans. "Not the rocks I'm worried about." He muttered, getting back into formation. Something about this place just set him on edge, like the bitter taste of a bad memory.

The scans revealed a bit more information about the oddity. Traces of some kind of acidic compound, but inconclusive as to what kind, exactly. Whatever it had been, it wasn't present save for the barest of traces. Dating of what remained of the compound revealed a little more data, indicating that whatever had caused this oddity had occured sometime in the last fifty to hundred years, according to carbon age of the rock samples that had fused with the mystery compound.

Humanity hadn't been in the Asgard system for nearly that long. Whatever had caused this had arrived prior to the first Alliance expedition, but long after the natural formation of the greater system of caverns.

Before Rajapaske could report her findings, there was a crackle on the com line, before the familiar voice of Corporal Hammond, the squad leader and CO for this survey.

"Fireteam 2, heads up. One of our drones has reported possible seismic activity, and we're seeing signs of a recent cave in. Jackson, get the nuggets topside, and rendezvous with us at the shuttle. We're not staying down here if these caves are unstable."

The corporal ordered, her tone brisk. Nothing was down here worth getting trapped, or worse, in these caves for.
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Present Time

The rescue squad's decision to make the journey to the beacon on foot had its risks. It was night on this side of Loki, and the freezing weather didn't improve visibility much beyond that. Their suits protected them from the deadly chill, but the frosty touch of Loki was difficult to ignore, clinging to them every step of the way. But the marines were made of stern stuff; they marched on, seeking their lost comrades. Two marines stayed with each of the Makos, waiting for orders to assist, if/when they were needed.

For several minutes, they pushed on through the cold darkness, the snow and ice their path consisted of ocassionally interupted by the odd black stone jutting from below, hints of the cavern system that was hidden beneath their boots. There was no sign of movement from their sensors, save that caused by the fel wind.

The beacon signal grew steadily stronger with every step, until they arrived at the source of the signal, which should have been the kodiak shuttle.

...But there was no visible sign of the shuttle. The trail ended with a chasm, with broken ice and distubed earth. Almost hidden by a growing blanket of snow, were gouges that were certainly unnatural, and to the trained eyes of the marines, almost certainly damage from explosives and small arms fire.

There had almost certainly been a firefight here. But no bodies, or the source of the beacon's shuttle were visible. The rescue team's scanner had clearly pinpointed it in this area, but they would have to climb down, into the chasm, to search for it.

Sarah removed a flare from her right hip and activated it, throwing the superheated device down the chasm. She'd then open a vid-line to the XO on the public channel, briefly turning to wave over the squad following her. "Command, are you getting this?" She'd give a sweeping visual of the disturbance. "Lots of signs a dance, but no dancers. I'm getting a baaad feeling about this. Who knew this team was here? What insurgency groups are active in this system?"

She'd wipe flecks of snow away from her visor.

Three Hours, Forty-six Minutes In The Past

Jackson was a solid man-no bodybuilder but the sort of guy who stood tall and broadshouldered. But his dark armour appeared to blend into the shadows and his voice echoed weirdly, "Roger that, One. See you topside, over." The fireteam promptly turned and began their climb back to the surface, aided by the maps created by their imaging equipment and the flares they'd left behind them. Like that European fable.

Excellent. Time to get the hell of this rock and actually do her job rather than babysitting FNGs.

"Seismic activity?" Bach asked hesistantly. Rajapaske inwardly grinned.

"Yes. Tremors, quakes, movement of the earth-well. You know what I mean," She replied casually. She did smirk at the look on what she could see of the man's face.

Jackson was probably rolling his eyes at them, but Rajapaske would take what joys she could find. Meanwhile, the PFC never hesitated as he led them through the winding tunnels and the three privates followed in formation. A lifetime ago, a corporal would be in Jackson's place and a PFC in hers-another reminder of the changes the war had forced.

It was around then that the ground shivered beneath their feet. Bach went paler and Rajapaske patted him on the shoulder. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah," Bach replied, giving himself a shake.

Jackson seemed to contemplate the tremor for a moment before saying sharply, "Double time Marines. Let's not stay here longer than we need."

"Aye aye." Contrary to the vid image of a wild spring away from explosions of some sort, the fireteam hastened to a moderate jog, eating up the metres but remaining in formation and conserving energy. After all, their kit was bloody heavy.

The 3 behind burke surrounded the chasm and looked down at the illuminated space.

"I got nothing on the motion tracker except us." Icarus spoke over the radio. He peered down into the chasm. "I'll scout ahead with my team while you survey the area. 30 feet at most to see how sound the structure is." He said to Burke. He motioned to one of his team to start walking into the fissure, him following behind with his motion tracker. The last covered the rear, disappearing below the ground level.