Progress 15-06-2013





Erik Gustav sat at the old wooden table in the High Hall across Volund, his right hand holding a tankard and his left moving over the surface of the massive table. “Wooden furniture on a world without trees, the Olafson Burg still holds treasures and its name is spoken with respect all over this world of ours.”

Volund raised his tankard. “Olafson ale is one of these treasures, not that we can make as much of it as we used to. The grain comes from beyond Nilfeheim and so does the hops.” He took a deep drought.

Erik Gustav did the same, gave the rest in his tankard a thoughtful gaze then burped from the deepest region of his barrel chest and slammed his flat hand on the table; underneath his veneer of sophistication, the Lord of the Ragnarsson Clan was a Norseman .”Countless are the repasts and delicacies available to me while I represent our insignificant world at the breath taking Assembly of the Union, yet having a full bodies ale at the right temperature served in a Tyranno tooth tankard warming your very innards; ailed and praised by a belch worthy of Thor are not to be had.”

Volund leaned forward. “What news of the Union then? I do remember the excursion to Pluribus when I was in Union School.”

Erik Gustav wiped his beard. “I am representing our world for seven years now, ever since my beloved Hilda passed on. Do you know how many times I was called to press an issue, to convey news?” The Ragnarsson man held up his fist. “Not a single time, Volund of the Olafsons, while we Neo Vikings squabbled over fishing grounds, the Union went to war and we almost defeated the Kermac.” Volund remembered the word and knew Kermac meant something opposed to the Union, but that was about all he remembered. “What a victory is almost? Either you win or you loose. Have we lost?” “What begun almost 80 years ago with the Kermac attacking Green Hell, ended just recently with a second Signing of the Free Space Treaty and an Armistice. The Galactic Council a shadow of its former self having lost almost 80 percent of their former sphere of influence agreed to all cease fire conditions requested.” “I do not claim to understand such things, but why stop there?”

Because a new Species intervened on behalf of the Kermac. They are called The Blue and are distant relatives. The Blue are highly advanced and control much space in the Andromeda Galaxy. They...”

Erik Gustav stopped. It was clear he had lost Volund's interest in the matter and smiled sadly. “Exactly this is why there are no calls, we do not care. My heart is still Norse and I understand, yet my eyes have seen wonders and powers that are more frightening than an angry Tyranno Fin while you share the water with it. I know how fragile and defenseless we really are. For this reason I can not step down, for this reason I must remain exiled from the world I love. “

Volund was not sure he understood what the other was speaking about but he was pleases as she saw his son Isegrim decked out in finest warrior garb. Oh aye Isegrim Olafson was a dashing sight, full of strength, and vigor, with raven black hair and glittering blue eyes.

Volund saw the bosom of the veiled Ragnarsson daughter raise in greater frequency as her beautiful eyes took stock.

Volund paid attention to Erik Gustav's lament once more. His noble guest waved at his daughter.. “I amassed great wealth both on this world and so much more beyond. I was blessed by a strong son and this lovely daughter. My son has died, and so has my wife and love. No other woman shall ever be by my side or share my chambers, so was the oath I made the day Hilda died. Hence no son of my blood will again be born.” He sighed as he looked at his daughter. “Only here on Nilfeheim is this a problem. My beloved and beautiful daughter can not inherit, neither my wealth nor my name, but she can bear a son of her own. In this future son I place my hope .”

Volund said. “My son is full of strength and he carries a name as old as Ragnarrson, but the words must be spoken.”

“Aye indeed. What are we if not shaped by our traditions and our honor. Volund Olafson, Lord mighty of the Olafson Clan. Honored of old, your son may court my daughter for the purpose of marriage.

Isegrim sat in his finest at the table and stared at the veiled woman. Her hair caught by ray of sun light gleamed like gold. Her eyes were big and green, he could not keep his eyes of her. Gretel was forgotten, this princess, this creature of finest Nilfeheim stock would be his bride after the required time of courting. His father had just clapsed arms with Erik Gustav Ragnarsson.

Both of them pleased and more ale and beer was brought.

The old Ragnarsson still held Volunds arm. “Our Clans are soon to be one, the day I can no longer raise my arm, will be the day the Ragnarsson banner and shields will be placed in the Cave of forgotten Clans, but strong Olafson blood will mingle with mine in the Offspring these two will have.”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Volunds eyes glowed. “Aye a Grandson of this bond, wise and cunning as the Ragnarssons and strong as the Olafsons. When he becomes Clan Chief, who knows, the Throne of Gustavson could be his. Uniting the Clans of the West under one banner.”Volund raised his tankard. “His name shall be Eric to honor thy name. Eric Olafson!”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Erik still holding the others arm. “So I will be.”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Neither man was sober anymore and both basked in the future glory of a yet unborn heir and spun the tales of conquest, they all loved so much.”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Erik Ragnarsson pounded his fist onto the table's surface and made tankards dance. “It is not proper that the father of my daughter's husband lives like this. It behooves the Olafson Clan to be once more first among few.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Ragnarsson Rock is big and well maintained and it will serve our future grandson as a fitting craddle. Come ye Volund, move to my burg. Be it's steward and master, let your son Isegrim be master and steward once our both arms are weak until he who combines our blood is born and has passed the Ancient Rite of passage.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">This burg can then be properly renovated for future use,”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">“I can not deny the attraction of thy offer, but how can a Burg have two masters? ”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-weight: normal">Erik Gustavson taking another deep drought of the strong Ale. “I am more often than not away from Nilfeheim, By Odins Sacred Spear I pledge everything I own, everything that is Ragnarsson both on this world and everything beyond shall be Eric Olafsons, he the unborn firstborn fruit of our children, but until the day he comes into his own, the Ragnarsson Burg shall know one master only.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">--””--

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Erik Gustavson had left the Olafson Burg three days later, taking his daughter and warriors along.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Volund waited until the flyer was a mere dot at the horizon and then he turned to his son who was standing behind him, on the court yard and smashed his fist with all might square in the face of Isegrim, only to folow up with a hail of blows and he yelled. “Oddløg, my hands getting tired, bring me the whip.”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Isegrim was a strong man already, but Volund was a true brute. He did try to land a few blows of himself but his old man caught his arm and executed a painful lock, almost breaking Isegrims arm. Isegrim was on his knees as Oddløg brought a broad leather whip made of braided and twisted Fangsnapper leather. “Father have mercy. I deserve the beating but let up in your rage. I have seen the beauty and I gladly obey.”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">“You are despicable, no warrior no matter the reason pleads for mercy, and no soul disobeys me on this rock. Not the Low men, not the Warriors and not even you, my oldest son.”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Volund however dropped the whip and drew his sword instead. “Before we leave this rock and move to Ragnarsson Burg, I will cleanse this our anchestors home from all the filth. “

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">He stomped with heavy steps down the into the quarters of the Lowe men and descended upon the Hemstead low men. He killed them all and his sword and arm was full of blood as he hacked down another maid and yelled .”I will kill you all! Where is she?”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Volund raged like a demon and killed many, yet Gretel was not to be found.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">--””--

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Gretel had hidden herself in a near empty barrel of Urine, the disgusting reeking liquid was collected from humans and nubhirs alike and used in a very old process of tanning skins into leather. Now, wet and stinking she stalked between the dismembered bodies of the low men and she saw her own father, two of her younger sisters, uncles and those she called friends hacked to death.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Using her volumptious body to seduce the son of the Clan lord seemed such a good idea just so recently, a way to escape this filth and the abhorrable conditions that existed in the bowels of this burg.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">What she thought of a game had turned into a nightmare. She felt sick to her stomach but she felt no remorse, she felt the need for revenge.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">She knew of the stories, of the worlds that existed beyond the skies of Nilfeheim but Low men were not allowed to go to Union School and were kept by the Clans almost like property ,like slaves. The Low men of good and rich clans got salaries and other benefits, the Low men of poor clans were starving and had to work to the very bones for a little food and shelter.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Gretel had watched the visitors and saw the daughter of the other Clan chief from a basement window, unseen by them. She was regal, wore a fine velvet dress and had golden hair. It was easy to look like that if you had nothing to do all day but play the harp, do needle work and not much else.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">But now she had to survive, leave this place somehow and unseen.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">There was a little motor boat in the den, and while it was almost suicide trying to use it, it was preferable to certain death between these walls.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">She could not hope to make it all the way to Bifrost in a small boat,without navigational tools and without really knowing how to use them even if she had them, but to the Bendixen Rock could be seen and since the Bendixen hated the Olafsons, maybe she was able to find shelter there.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">--””--

<p align="center" lang="en-US" style="border-bottom: #000000 1.1pt double; border-left: medium none; padding-bottom: 0.07cm; padding-left: 0cm; padding-right: 0cm; border-top: medium none; border-right: medium none; padding-top: 0cm">Year 4990, OTT

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<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">The Old man was known as the Hermit, others called him a Wizard and most of Nilfeheim knew him as The Eldest. Almost no one knew or remembered his real name, Egill Skallagrímsson. He was a good dead over 400 years old and for the most part he lived all by himself on the tallest rock formation that reached above the water surface of the southern hemisphere. It was called the Pillar and was a thin column like rock, four hundred meters tall and on top no more than 80 meters in diameter. The base of the pillar, at the point where it reached the surface was only about 120 meters in diameter.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">To reach the small Burg that was built on top of the rock pillar, one had to use a basket, attached to a steel cable and an electric winch.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">The Pillar was far south and not to far from the permanent ice of the south pole region of this world. The first year of a new Longnight had arrived and in another twelve or thirteen month the ice flows that drifted around his burg would become a solid ice surface.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Egill had just returned from one of his rare shopping trips. His submarine, the only one of its kind on all Nilfeheim was loaded with the usual dry goods and packed groceries.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">He sighed. This was the down side of being a Hermit, he had no one to help him carry the things. He was muttering curses and grunted every time he carried boxes and bags to the elevator basket.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Egil did not turn as a deep voice in his head said. “You could get all the help you wanted, or even buy one of these robots I read about. Even use your telekinetics to float the things up in your nest. Instead of cursing the ice of the rock.”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Egill placed a box with salt, spices and ready to eat dinners into the basket and turned. There next to the sleek Submarine, in the churning waves and between the ice flowes surfaced an immense whitish shape with huge triangular shaped fins on top.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">The largest predatory fish known to Union science was the Tyranno Fin of Nilfeheim, sleek true fish twice the size of an Earth Blue whale, the albino animal that just surfaced next to Egill's submarine was the largest Tyranno and it was sentient. Egill knew the white fish for almost all his life and it was Egill who had given the fish a name and called him Tyr.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Egill was the only one on Nilfeheim who knew about Tyr, but there were countless stories and legends about the White Tyranno told by the Nilfeheim fishers and hunters.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Egill turned and said in the same soundless telepathic way “And you could use a fraction of your telekinetic powers to help me instead of giving me a lecture.” Egill approached the edge of the small dock at the side of the Pillar. “I am surprised to see you still awake. Longnight has begun.”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">“You short lived humans have not really noticed that the Longnights slowly grow shorter again, as they have been so long ago. I foresee the time when Longnights are of equal length with Shortsummer. Our rather odd Orbit, caused in part by the fifth planet that is technically a failed sun and its massive gravitational pull, is slowly but surely deteriorating...”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Egill held his head. “Don't fill my mind with all those equations, I am not interested I those things and I am not you who hangs around the Union School rock telepathically spying on the kids and their lessons.”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">“Where else should a simple fish like me gain all the wonderful knowledge about the Universe and the United Stars? Thankfully your off-world brethren is much more interested in in these things than you and this is the reason your kind could bridge the vast distance and invade my peaceful and quite world.” “You are more a God than a Simple anything, and you know that you have to do is reveal yourself to the Union Outpost and they have to resettle and remove every single Viking from this world, if they want ot not and this planet is yours again.”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">“It isn't that simple, and after almost 3000 of your years this is as much their world as it is mine, I am quite content and more so, without you I would not be sentient.”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">“How can we have anything to do with that? You told me you have been a thinking being long before humans set foot on this planet. If I interpreted your previous statements correctly, you are a thinking entity long before my ancestors discovered fire, back on Planet Earth.” Egill sat down on one of the steel bollards and crossed his arms while he looked at the immense being before him with much affection.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Egill, the groceries and everything vanished from sight only to re-appear in the main hall of his small burg, almost 400 meters above the water. Tyr once more demonstrated his vast psionic abilities. The trans location of almost a ton of groceries was no easy feat.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">“Because some events and some conditions are preordained “ Tyr's mental voice answered Egills question.”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">“I am supposed to believe in clairvoiance and throw the runes, and then see the future as this is what a Seer and Wizard supposed to do, but I am no Wizard. However if you say the future is already set then sentience makes no real sense, as it makes no difference what we do, it is already decided.” “Time is not a simple line or stream as you humans think it is, but you are right, the details of what you see as the future are not determined and it is shaped by events and decissions made in the now by the sum of all that is alive, but there is a framework that is part of The RULE. Some causes have effects that must occur and forseeing those are not clairvoiance.”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Egill rummaged through the bags and boxes of his shopping trip and found the bottle of Vodka he was looking for. “So what does this all mean, Big Fish? Why are you telling me all this? I sense there is a reason for your visit. Not that I am complaining, any reason you find to visit me is a good one.” “I am about to go to sleep, Egill but while I sleep there will be such an event., it is an event important than perhaps no other.”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Egill poured himself a generous helping of the clear liquid into a reasonably clean cup and topped it off with Cola. Here inside his burg he didn't have to be too traditional. “Do you want me to wake you when it happens, whatever you think will happen?”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">“No Egill, you can't reach me in our sleep mounains, but I want you to go to the Olafson Clan and be present when Ilva Ragnarsson delivers her first born and also be there at his naming day.”

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<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">--””--

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">4991 OTT

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<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Not in the last 500 years did the Olafson Burg look as spectacular as it did now. Gone were the rag like remnants of cloth, replaced by brand new flags in vibrant red. But not only Olafson red furled in the stiff breeze of Longnight wind, there were black flags with the silver falcon of the Ragnarssons. The obvious cracks and patches of crumbling concrete had been filled with expensive Duro Crete or simply hidden behind a decorative banner. A brand new Hydrogen generator hummed happily in the basement right next to the burned out 1000 year old scrap heap of the old one and sent electricty to a thousand lamps or more.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Volund caressed over the fine dark red leather he was wearing and found his long fur brimmed cape quite regal. The heavy golden Clan Chief necklace around his neck and his right hand on the hilt of Hefnen, he once again felt pride.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">He stood by the window of his chambers .This was the second year of this seasons Longnight. Temperatures already dropped to minus 15 degrees during the dim day and an reached minus twenty at night. In another year, the ocean surface around Olafson Rock would be thick enough for a man to walk or drive across to the other burgs in the vicinity. The temperatures were unimportant to the Low men, Bondi and Freemen laboring outside to make the Burg fit to hold a wedding.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">It was tradition to hold the Wedding at the Grooms home, otherwise they could have already moved to the much bigger and well kept Ragnarsson Burg. But then this Burg was not small and there was ample space for all the guests. Erik Gustav had given him a more than generous advance on the brides Dowry. He had never seen such a sum on the read out of his Union bank Account and the two coffers filled with Iridum Coins standing behind him were to pay the local merchants and the workers. After all only Clan Families and members of the free families in town were Union Citizens and had bank accounts. The rest of Nilfeheim still relied on good old fashioned money. His son Isegrim stood in the middle of the court yard, dressed quite similar as his father, but with the addition of a Nubhir Wolf Mask. These masks were tremendously popular among the Neo Viking Warriors, as they gave them a fierce and frightful appearance and the leather and pelt kept their faces warm. In the bright light of the flood lights he was an eerie sight as his breath steamed between the permanently growling fangs of the Nubhir mask and made it almost look alive. There were much cheaper alternatives and until recently the Olafson's were forced to tie a piece of Fangsnapper fur before their faces,. The Ragnarsson Clan had the largestNubhir Wolfs and the biggest Nubhir Farm. Ragnarsson leather and fur was famous and expensive.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Volund watched his son order the workers around and making sure everything was perfect before the actual wedding would take place.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Volund turned, took a pitcher set for him on a small ante table by the window and filled his empty tankard with more of the warmed Ale. His eyes fell on a two dee picture image a traveling Image Taker and knife sharpener had made of his wife Grimhild. He raised his drink and said. “I wish you could be around to see all this. Thanks to the upcomming wedding of our son to the oldest daughter of the Ragnarsson clan I could now afford all the beautiful things a Chiefs wife deserves and most of all I now could afford a flyer and take you to the Union Clinic instead of seeing you die in Child bed.” He drank and as awlays imagined to see that special glitter in her eyes. “Our stubborn first born as seen the fair child of the Ragnarssons and he has forgotten all about everything else. I just wish our beloved Hogun would return. We Olafsons are fast to anger and fast to break all things around us, including the bonds that make a family what it should be.” He was glad that he was all alone in his chambers as tears dropped into his massive beard. “I have never treated you the way you deserved to be treated, and now that you are gone, I miss you and too late I realize how blessed I was. I pray to Odin to give Isegrim the wisdom to not make the mistakes I have made.”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">With a sigh he took his own Wolf mask and decided to visit the mount of rocks under which he had buried her and the deadborn baby girl, that should have been his daughter.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">--””--

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Several light hours away from Nilfeheim and beyond the orbit of the systems out most planet, a small ice ball called Hel, with nothing on it but an automated SII – GalNet Repeater and relais station a rugged, boxy looking space ship dropped out of quasi space. All that many space ships made it to Solken System. Other than the occational freighter and the monthly space bus, there was virtually no traffic. The dull brown ship, of finest Kartanian engineering was certainly not a Space bus. Even though this Kartanian built Super Cruiser had freight bays, it wasn't a freighter either.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">The openly displayed weapon turrets pointing in every direction made it clear, this was a ship of war.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">While the ship and the openly displayed weapons were perfectly legal, some of the hidden ones were not.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">The Ship Master of this hulking ship was a massive Pertharian, and the rest of the crew were with few exceptions members of the physically strong and very strong species of the Union. There was a Maggi Sauron, two Oromarls, three Purple Throat Shiss, Four Tripple Strongs and a former Plato Slave and they all had gathered on the bridge of the ship they called the Great Dame, in their midst stood a human, but he was neither the smallest nor the weakest aboard.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">The Ship Master, a massive four armed Petharian said to the big human. “We are here, this is Solken System.” And to the Purple Throat Shiss at the Comm Panel the Pertharian Ship Master said.”Go and hail the space port and call for landing instructions and make sure you transmit our transponder codes. I don't want them to call any Navy asset to check us out.”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">The Shiss did what he was asked and hissed to the Sauron sitting next to him. “That is something we should avoid indeed.”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">The Pertharian again addressed the human. “Hogun. I sure hate to see you go, you have been a true brother in arms, are you sure you want to leave us? I gladly increase your share, but I have offered that before”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">The big man had a strange expression on his face as he looked at the planet they approached. “Rathuur, no man could ask for better friends as I have found in the ranks of the Rhatuurs Brigants, but I am going to marry the girl that is waiting for me for so long and then I want to settle down, take over that little Inn she inherited and have some kids. No amount of credits could change my mind.”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">The Pertharian put one of his arms on the man's shoulder. “I have never met a man more honorable, more dependable or being able to best me in a contest of arm wrestling.” The ship belonging to this famous, barely legal mercenary outfit dipped through the planets atmosphere after it received landing permission.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">It took Hogun almost an hour to shake all the hands, claws and similar appendixes as he made his way to the landing ramp, but finally he had said his last good byes and shouldered a big durplast er box and made his way to the the passenger terminal while the Grand Dame reversed her Arti Grav and climbed back into space. Hogun could not blame them for their haste. While Rathuurs Brigants were a Union Legal Mercenary outfit, with a solid reputation and no Federal Rapsheet, most of the Outfits members did have some kind of criminal record and most of all some of the weapons both the ship and the Mercs used were everything but legal.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">While the outfit would never do anything that could harm the Union or go against Union interests, ( Having a Pertharian Outfit leader almost guaranteed that) they weren't as law abiding as perhaps they should. Most of the contracts they fullfilled while he was a Rathuur Brigant were targets outside Union Space and laws had little meaning there, some of their jobs could be called acts of Piracy.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Hogun turned and raised his eyes to see the ship disappear into the lead gray sky. Then his eyes went across the mountains of snow that had been piled to the sides of the Space port landing field.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">On the other end stood a huge Meteor Freighter, loading dense packed blocks of ice and snow. The freighter had the Logo of the Silver Hawk Emporium on its side.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">So rumors were true, the Ragnarsson clan was associated somehow with Silver Hawk Inc. The Company logo and the heraldic hawk of the Ragnarssons were identical. Silver Hawk Inc. was by far not the biggest Company out there, but even he who had spend most of his off planet time in the fringe regions or beyond Union Space had heard of the Silver Hawk Emporium Stores that seemed to spring up at many Space Ports.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">He grinned and shook his head. “His father Volund would never get the idea to ship worthless snow by the ship load of planet. Not knowing that a shipload of clean water ice would be a sell able commodity on any Desert Planet.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Desert Planets far outnumbered Water planets after all and ninety percent of all Union citizen needed water in some form or another. Not the least of it was Space ship fuel.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">The Space port seemed bigger than it had almost twenty years ago when he had left Nilfeheim, hiding as a stowaway in a much smaller freighter. I was freezing cold, and the wind had a nipping bite to it , but here Gravity was just right, the air tasted wonderful.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">He reached the terminal and the Customs inspector was a local Freeman without any particular Clan association, Hogun noticed that because the man wore his hair short and his face clean shaven. The Customs inspector wore a laughable Thompson E Blaster in a similar unpractical covered holster, but Hogun was sure the man probably had never reason to pull his sidearm. The man was a Neo Viking and as such not a small person but he had to put his head back to look into Hogun's face and he said. “We usually never get any private ship traffic, so don't mind me asking what kind of business do you have here?” “What business I have on my home planet is none of yours, Freeman. I am a lawful Union Citizen and that is all you need to know. Scan my CITI and be done.” The Customs Officer did and said. “We don't have any Police on Nilfeheim so we like to check who comes, especially in a heavily armed ship and a box full of weapons, but your CITI checks out and the Weapon scan identifies only registered and legal weapons. You do know the local laws about these right?” “I am an Olafson. I was born here.”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">“Oh an Olafson! Welcome home then. I bet you came for the wedding!” “What wedding?”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">“Everyone talks about it of course. Isegrim Olafson is marrying Ilva Ragnarsson.”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Hogun once again shouldered the box and walked past the man. His enromous right hand clenched into a huge stone hard fist, the man had mentioned his brother's name, Isegrim. The main reason he had left in the first place.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Then as he passed into the lobby, he saw her standing there. With her hand demourly folded before a white apron and wearing a traditional blue dress to long flaxen braids, Freydis Bredeberg. His chin dropped. He had sent her a letter via Union Post over three month ago, that he would return and gave her an approximate day of arrival, all that came to is mind was. “How did you know I was coming today?”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">She smiled the most charming smile and looked at the big man with deep love buring in her eyes. “I came here to wait for you every day, since I got your letter,”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">He dropped his box and scooped her into his arms.

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<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">--””--

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Gretel almost died, she had missed the Bendixen Burg and had spend several days guiding her little boat over the rough sea. While the boat had a power cube with enough energy to steer that boat at least two times right around the globe, it wasn't very fast, had no cabin and was used to drive short distances over the open water so fishermen could attach air hoses to harpooned Tyranno's and Three Fins. Finding one of the small islands that dotted the otherwise featureless ocean of Nilfeheim was almost impossible without using navigational instruments. She had spend at least six or seven days at sea, cold, hungry and completley dehydrated. She had escaped the wraith of Volund with nothing but the cloth on her back.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">She had been very lucky that she had been spotted by the School bus flyer pilot. He had brought her to the Union Clinic.

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