Freya adjusted her dress. Despite being officially a soldier in Penrose’s corporate forces, she preferred to stay out of uniform. As one of the CEO’s wives it afforded her a kind of privilege, but it was also a shackle. Her body itself was proof; a hamr, a full body prosthetic designed to her wife’s exact specifications. She stepped into one of the unused hangars, the catwalks above casting shadows on her.

  Freya sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose. It would have been simpler if Sirius had just killed the survivors earlier. Now they were a burden on the crew of the Ofnir. The recovery crew hadn’t found any others in the wreck of the Surcouf, just halls full of corpses. The Draugr had been thorough. She looked back over to the four survivors; two men and two women, one of the women being an actual pilot with a valkyrie impnt and the others fgged as engineering crew according to the Surcouf’s manifest.

  “Alright, here’s the deal.” Freya cpped her hands together. “You’re here under quarantine after contact with a malignant intelligence. Officially, you’re all dead.” She watched their reactions, mostly rising worry. “I don’t want to have you join the rest of the Surcouf’s crew. So, I either onboard you and have you stay on as staff for the Ofnir, or I can set you up with new identities when we next stop off at a shipyard on the condition that you say nothing of what you experienced both here and on the Surcouf.”

  Captain Ailin Maes joined Freya, having just come down one of the lifts to the hangar. Her bck uniform was accented with gold and Penrose’s signature violet marking her affiliation with the company. Her dark hair was pulled back into a braided bun. At her hip, her right hand rested on the grip of her sidearm. “Should any of you be unwilling to accept either of those generous concessions, I will dispatch you mercifully.”

  The pilot of the group, a younger woman with blocky Blivet service tattoos surrounded by more delicate flower accents raised a hand. “Isn’t Penrose a Blivet ally?”

  Captain Maes drew her weapon, activated eitr glowing in its chamber. “Correct. The corporation still has its own prerogative, and you four are here by my, Sirius, and Lady Freya’s grace.” She leveled the weapon at the pilot. “Company policy is that all staff not assigned to the Ofnir that come into contact with the intelligences known as Draugr are to be removed from the board.”

  Freya connected to Ailin’s ARC, her eyes briefly twitching toward the captain. “You aren’t helping the situation.”

  “I am letting them know just how kind your offer is.” Her eyes focused on her weapon then at the gre from the rescued pilot. “Well, what’s your choice? Do any of you want off this ship,” her finger gently pressed up against the trigger, not enough to cause the weapon to discharge, enough for a message, “right now?”

  One of the male engineers stepped forward, a hand up, eyes fixed on the glowing chamber of the captain’s weapon. “I want a life off this can. Are these new identities going to have the credentials or funds to survive?”

  “You’ll be given a fund with enough monthly pay out to live a comfortable life, more if you decide to pursue employment in your new identity.” Freya watched him nod then focused back on Ailin. “Not my offer, Sirius insisted they be given a chance on the way back from the Surcouf.”

  “They did? I assumed the old warhorse was only here for the bloodshed.” Ailin nodded and gestured with her gun for the man to move to the side. “The guards will take you to a private cabin until we can drop you off. Now, the rest of you.” She aimed between each one before leaving it pointed at the einherjar pilot. “Which of you want to stay here and get some revenge on that thing that took over your ship.”

  Freya only just prevented herself from rolling her eyes at Ailin’s remark. “Sirius prefers to fight in an einherjar against an opponent that can offer them a challenge.”

  “That kind of thinking will get them killed someday.” Ailin gestured once more to the captives. The pilot of the group stepped forward, leaving the remaining engineers where they stood. Ailin smirked. “Good. Lady Freya will see about getting you acclimated.”

  Freya shot Ailin a gre. “The fuck I will.”

  “I'm sure Sirius can help with that too. This is their offer of shelter, no?” Captain Maes gestured toward the wall opposite the door out of the room. “And you two?”

  “Sirius needs to rest, I’ll do it.” Freya pressed her tongue against the back of her teeth.

  The remaining man walked toward the exit door while the st engineer looked between the door and the pilot. After a moment she sighed and went over to the pilot.

  Captain Maes smiled and holstered her weapon. “Good. Welcome to the crew, you two.”

  ______

  Sirius pressed near one of their temples. It would be best to just get this over with. The message that they had received was from one of the other ace pilots from the mk.1 era, Surtr. The two of them had worked together a few times and been on opposite sides more than twice as often. When Sirius was forced into an early retirement, Surtr just disappeared from the scene, and when they’d finally worked up the interest he couldn’t be found.

  Sirius opened the video file and was met with Surtr's visage, an older man with dark skin and intense green eyes. While he'd changed his manner of dress to a more professional one from the casual clothing of his youth, he kept his hair long even as it began to have bits of grey threaded through it.

  “Sirius, old friend, I am surprised to find you are back inside of an einherjar.” He smiled slightly. “Though not as much as how you made your return to the stage.” He cpped his hands together, the heavy brass rings on each ring finger connecting added a metallic sound to the motion. “A bde through the audience chamber of the Economic Council, fantastic! A shame that so few of the parasites died in your attack.”

  This wasn't the tone Sirius had expected to be met with. They shook their head as Surtr began to speak once more.

  “A worse shame that you upstaged my organization's own efforts; and that, of course, is what this message is really about. Jotunn is… I am, extending to you an invitation to do something good with your life, Sirius.” Surtr stood, extending a hand toward the camera. “With the council at each other's throats, this is the time for us to strike. The dream they stole on Veles can be seized from their bellies if we only tear them open.” Surtr lowered his hand and pressed it down on the top of his desk. “And if a moral plea isn't going to sway you, I ask that you imagine a greater opponent than the Council. There is none.” He sighed and settled back into his seat. “A secure contact method is attached to this message. I look forward to working with you again, friend.”

  With that the message cut out, leaving Sirius alone once more. They exhaled. Surtr did know how to appeal to them even after all this time. There was little that they desired more than a fight where they could dance on the edge of a knife. Sirius looked down at their body, the soft curve of their breasts beneath their loose top. Aria was the only other thing that really mattered; they had watched over her for nearly a decade. In some ways they had lived vicariously through her, and not just as an einherjar pilot. That was something that they were only just starting to come to terms with.

  With a thought, Sirius connected their mind to Freya's. “We need to talk.”

  “That message, was it bad news?” Asked Freya.

  “No, and that's the issue.” Sirius id back on their bed. How secure is this channel? Cecile doesn't have constant access, does she?”

  “Even she has her blindspots. Her pride makes most of them.”

  Sirius rolled their eyes. “Don't dance around it, can she hear us right now?”

  “No. She's allowed us more autonomy, both out of necessity and due to our circumstances. She believes my sisters and your Aria are enough of an insurance policy.”

  “I'd be lying if I said I wasn't worried about Aria, but she's a big girl now.” Sirius chuckled, remembering how the kid had looked when they brought them in, all skin, bones and exhausted desperation. “I have to trust that she can handle herself, and that her partners can make up the difference if it’s too much for her.”

  “Cecile would never get rid of my sisters. She can't stand letting anything go and I trust that Nimue is capable enough to keep your daughter safe.” Freya paused. “So, what was the message about?”

  Sirius sat back up, taking a moment to refocus. Having had Aria referred to as their daughter was somehow odd to them. Not that Aria wasn’t a woman, but that Sirius could ever be nurturing. They gripped their knees. “The leader of Jotunn wants to hire me on.”

  “Do you want to do it?”

  “I do.” They stood with a grunt, nerves cooperating, but only just. “Surtr left a secure contact with the message, and I'd like to more thoroughly hash out the terms of this arrangement. If at all possible I want to keep the Ofnir and its crew.”

  “Not impossible. We would need to bring Captain Maes onboard as well. I'll bring her around the room when I've gotten the new pilot acclimated.”

  “One of the survivors decided to stay?”

  “Yeah, two actually. The second is an engineer.”

  Sirius chuckled. “Of course, a pilot and their mechanic. Before we meet back up, I want to speak with the recovery and engineering teams about the Draugr wreck we picked up.” Sirius paused at the door, having to take a moment to steady themself. “Talk to you ter, Freya.”

  ______

  Sirius stepped out into the quarantine bay of the Ofnir's hangars. They'd had to take their ARC out before entering in case the Draugr wasn't entirely dead. The whole bay was encased in a faraday cage ,and the staff there were simirly without devices with wireless connectivity. At the center hung the Draugr machine. It was missing both legs and most of its right arm. Its torso gaped open, the cockpit that would normally have held the Draugr itself disconnected and secured in its own containment unit. Even with its cairn cored out, the crew of the Ofnir was not taking any chances.

  One of the engineers came up to Sirius. “Sir, is there something we can help with?”

  “Wanted to see the wreck myself. Lady Freya said there were still some processes active in it,” said Sirius, staring up into the inert camera banks of the machine.

  “Yes, but it appears to be primarily for maintenance purposes. The ‘mind’ of the Draugr is gone.” The engineer made a gesture of stabbing. “You saw to that.”

  “It was dangerous,” said Sirius ftly.

  The engineer held his hands up. “N-not saying you were wrong to. I've seen the archival footage and what we recovered from the Surcouf… These things are too dangerous to leave alive.”

  Sirius nodded. “There,” they pointed at the stump of its right arm, “it's repairing itself. Have we figured out how they do that yet?”

  The engineer nodded. “The team believes it automatically uses eitr to fabricate new matter.”

  “Have you tested that?”

  “When a section of armor was submerged in eitr it mended much faster, yes.”

  Sirius nodded. “Then I only have one more question.”

  “Yes?”

  “Is the material compatible with the mk.3 einherjar architecture?”

  The engineer hesitated, before stammering out the answer. “Physically, yes. The issue is more with the coding nguage. It isn't like what we use.”

  “Lady Freya has been able to interface with it before. I'll ask her to assist the team.”

  With that Sirius turned and left the quarantine area, picking up their ARC on the way out. They slotted it back into the port above their right ear and leaned against the wall of the hallway as it rebooted, the strain on their nervous system making their right leg weak. It quivered and Sirius hit the side of their thigh with a fist.

  “Cooperate, you piece of shit,” Sirius growled.

  They managed a few steps before their leg buckled and they fell, side sliding against the smooth wall of the hallway. They hated this feeling, being weak, unable to depend on their body. They tried to get up again, but their right leg refused. It was content to quiver and twitch uselessly. Sirius hit the leg again and winced from the impact. The damn thing couldn't do as they demanded, but it was still perfectly capable of transmitting sensation back to their brain.

  “Sirius,” said Freya.

  She must have come down the hall while they'd been struggling with their leg. Sirius looked up at her, into her many hued eyes. The hamr she wore as a body was beautiful, strong… Dependable. They’d never seen it falter.

  “I'm fine,” grumbled Sirius, trying to make their leg work again. “Just the sync syndrome acting up.”

  “Then take my hand, pilot.” Freya grabbed theirs and pulled them up, not letting them make the choice.

  “Why?”

  “You were hurting. Besides, you're my partner in all this.” She pulled their arm over her shoulder. “Let's get you back to your room so we can talk about that friend of yours.”

  “Thought you were already on board,” said Sirius, trying to support some of their own weight on their currently working leg.

  “I am, it’s just some specifics I want to iron out. Our position in Jotunn's arrangement, we're the ones with the most to offer.” Freya paused at an intersection. “Gonna just make this a bit easier.”

  Before Sirius could respond she scooped them up into their arms, carrying them as one would a bride. Sirius looked up at her, the eitr inside the exposed sections of her hamr casting scintilting light on her features. They were at a loss for words. Being held like this should have been infuriating, embarrassing, emascuting. It wasn't. It was nice. Not quite like when Aria had helped with simple tasks, but adjacent.

  “Sirius, you’re flushed.”

  “Don’t. Don’t mention it.”

  “Oh, is it not just the sync syndrome?” Freya’s fingers squeezed their thigh lightly. “I told the new pilot and her mechanic that I’d help them get used to the Ofnir, but this is much more interesting.”

  “How is an old pilot blushing that engaging?”

  “You act as if I’m not carrying a famous pilot, the one that broke Breidablik and having them blush back up at me.” Freya stepped into Sirius’ room, the door closing behind her.

  “Let me down, please.” Freya set them down on their bed. Sirius turned and sat up, palm pressed into their still quivering thigh. “We can, I know what you want and we can, just after the attack passes.”

  Freya nodded, going to grab a chair and sitting on it facing the pilot. “Then we’ll talk first. If we are to join Jotunn, I want us to have a position in their leadership.”

  “If we get that concession, I’m not going to meetings. I know what I do and what I’m for. Wield me.”

  Dark_Sun_Morrigan