|| RAIDERS RETURN TO BUSY BUSY BERK ||

[PART 1]

January 12, 2019, Norwegian Sea…

'Quiet!' Metal clashed with metal; the Dragon Trapper's teeth gritted as he stared down the beast.

In the shadow of night, Thor's mighty hammer sang no song to clear the dense fog that blanketed their cargo. The hours grew long and still their precious game sat upon rust, ice and soaked surfaces. The waves would cascade upon the hull and its creaks would echo across the seas, but this ship was far from derelict. They charted a hidden course, unsullied of resistance and any fool unlucky to venture this far out would find no solace. There were whispers of course, rumours of those who struck in the night. Silent they were, a breeze that whistled with the wind leaving little in their wake. Even as Kanaka patrolled the many cages upon the deck, he may have felt their eminence, but nonetheless, paid those stories with salt enough to rival the seas they charted. These dragons bore a destiny far to the East, beyond the jurisdiction of the Berkian nation and her knights.

The Shovelhelm cowered in her cage, a jeering chuckle to please Kanaka as he ran his billhook along its bars. He noted another of his company, brandishing the grey and navy fatigues of the Trader Shipping security colours with sharp eyes peering through the mist. The use of night-vision goggles may have illuminated the night but under the fog bank, they were reliant upon subtleties commonly lost to the naked eye. Their line was secure, their tracks covered and to remoteness such as this, what threat would dare venture these parts?

Something muffled caught Kanaka's attention, his eyes darting to his colleague's last position. Empty space filled the void, and yet, just the hint of a disturbance through the mist; he was not so cynical of the stories now. As he squinted down his row of cages, a faint silhouette painted itself against the mist, the figure of a man. He stood motionless with the night as his ally, until ignited with flame, conjured from beyond, a blade spread its flickering light before the Trapper. He reached for his gun when low grumble emanated behind him; a creature slunk with such grace from atop the cage of a Snafflefang, the mists parting to two terrible green eyes. He caught the footsteps thumping against the metallic deck before the plume of flame sliced through his weapon. It was severed in a shower of sparks as the assailant circled round for a secondary strike. Kanaka instinctively swiped with his billhook; his foe masterfully evaded not just his first but his second strike, ducking clear of its range. He lunged for a third blow only to have his wits turned cold; the emblazoned blade was hollow, split into two segmented shafts and the billhook was caught between them. Kanaka's grip was seized, his weapon torn from his hand before something solid connected squarely against his forehead. No amount of stumbling would right his course, as another powerful force toppled him face first to the deck. Against the darkness that followed, he barely registered to the slippery scales that brushed over his cheek.

The world was suddenly evicted of its twilight; a sharp crack spilled blinding light around the man. The approaching Dragon Trapper raised his rifle only to be coat hangered by another unseen assailant.

His body thumped against the deck and from the misty void, his leg was wound in a riveted, scaly mass before being dragged off into the mist. 'Bow is secure,' a feminine voice echoed softly into her helmet comm. 'Are you alright?'

Her midnight clad companion nodded once, before pushing further into the ship. 'Port side move in. Watch your perimeter,' she ordered, nabbing a handheld radio from the fallen foe.

'Copy that captain,' they relayed, engaging their portion of the plan.

High upon an overarching crane arm that overlooked the ship from Bridge to bow, a lean yet proven man lay prone with his eye on the team now in motion. 'Brant, this is Flashburn. Three Trappers moving along the outside lane.'

His reconnaissance scope was outfitted with thermal settings to pierce the mist; the bulk of the Trapper force remained stationed towards the bridge. Their quarry was plentiful despite the ill fate which besieged the Dragon Trapper's lingering occupation; the dragons of value were closest at hand. With their diversion in motion, the Trappers were spreading their forces along the misshaped lanes to close in around the intruders. In turn Brant signalled a small company down to intercept as he tracked ahead with his sister.

'Forward party in sight, run cloaking,' Brant Hamilton instructed, activating a key on his wrist as the first of the Trappers appeared through the mist.

'Six is clear Brant, taking point,' Brenda Hamilton notified him, scaling up the side of a heavy shipping container. 'Starboard team, what's your position?'

'Escorts away, holding fast for instruction,' a thick Berkian voice answered.

Hamilton's squad ran their operation cleanly and with the Trapper's pushing amidst their rising numbers, they had little defence against what they could not see. Flashburn studied the route ahead; he drew a line from the outer catwalks leading down from the bridge between six large container stacks that created a nasty choke point. Whilst they intended to liberate the dragons in whole, he was under advisement that strongly favoured that conglomerate.

'Starboard team, you're up. Timor, Verdana, Briggs, prep your holes. Tats, Ophera, Undara, draw in below deck, stay out of sight,' Flashburn instructed checking his wrist com for the six corresponding dots. 'On my mark, three. Two. One.

A short flash off the starboard hull echoed with a soft rumble leading the attention of the Trappers. Flashburn adjusted his posture to trail the guards as they peered over the rail. An empty wall of steel and the black waters below were all they saw, until a sudden force hurled them overhead into the freezing abyss.

'Escorts, we have Trappers overboard, Mala do you copy?'

Coasting high above the cloud bank where the moonlight sparkled in full, Diane Mala leant steadily against a great set of antlers as five restless dragons cawed and grunted behind her. She donned colours that hid her as a silhouette, a mesh composite layered in dexterous strips with golden trims befitting of her status. Power be to those who led, power in force and in protection, and as for the Defenders of the Wing, upon Big Red she stood, prepared to answer their leader's call.

'Holding firm Flashburn,' she stated with perfect diction. 'Ready on yours.'

'Good, Timor status?' Flashburn relayed, aligning his sights upon the Bridge side containers.

Jeraline Timor ran with three fresh recruits, arming the ship's engine mechanics with Changewing acid canisters set to detonate on command. In the shadows below deck, they wisped between the pipes and gauges like spectres unbeknownst to the Dragon Trapper hosts. She ran point with the others crouched low as she wound the compartments behind her, their activities sealed and secret. They could hear the thumping of their counterparts upstairs, and with no gun fire as of yet, it rested well on their conscience. At last, the stale confines of stagnant air was opened to the frigid breeze as the two teams converged in the centre of the ship. They lined up against the cages running in a wall to the bulk of the Trapper force. Between the threat of the armed forces, the terrified dragons snapping their thin eyes towards them and the icy winds, their blood ran hot with adrenaline.

Fresh on her first rescue mission, Christina Verdana felt her heart pulse as an adolescent Raincutter snarled at her; these dragons were truly wild, skittish and lawless to those she knew in the dragon races. She could accredit her retirement on changing times, younger generations were pushing their supremacy and in light of riders like Krogan, her talents were undeniably passed. Like her friend Georgia Briggs however, their talents were not for forfeit and the approach of a formidable young man offered a new, yet dangerous career. Together, Briggs and Verdana spotted their Portside counterparts adjusting the last of their charges; the four operatives were more seasoned in this kind of foray, but word spoke in favour of their combative frontrunners. Only two there were to brave behind enemy lines and each in accompaniment by unlikely allies. With the outer cages set, the rescue teams linked up to spark the catalyst event in motion.

'Commander Flashburn, the bombs are primed,' Timor notified.

'Copy that Timor,' Flashburn zeroed in on their position. 'Prep the second wave.'

'Undara, Tats, you're with me,' Brenda motioned to the rest of the team. 'Eg, Sweeny, cover Brant's six. Link up at the crane support.'

'Lane's clear,' Brant said, ducking around the corner to begin the next phase.

The cages were becoming sparse in favour of the large shipping containers and as such, every corner beheld an unseen threat. Brenda brushed up against the crates, creeping low to the deck with each dash between the ailses.

'Undara, take a vantage point,' she signalled up the containers. 'Let's hope these things burn through,' she remarked, clamping a charge on the container locks.

'They've been tried and tested Brenda,' Flashburn commented holding his sights on their line. 'Heads up, company at eleven,' he drew along the lanes towards the bridge where the captain remained unfazed, simply pacing by the helm.

Captain Ivar Whitton as reported, was a familiar name within the Defender's growing exports list; he was stern and a competent leader that swung with the ebb and flow of events. Flashburn had no doubt his night would soon reek with dissent on his part, the time of which was late for retaliation.

'No mistress, we've had to adjust our course south of the maze; we're not equipped to handle the ice with this load,' Ivar stayed his feet for the moment, his tone level and his eyes skimming the seamless horizon.

'Understandable captain. Though take heed on the forewarnings of your peers; this rebellion is growing out of favour with my associates. We've already lost two shipments, a third would only wean our support,' his superior relayed, her voice neither fair nor demanding but rich with the Russian slur.

'We've gone beyond necessary precautions, rotating patrols and check-in intervals. If they attack, we shall know,' Ivar reassured her.

'I trust you will captain,' she signed off, leaving the line dead as Ivar released a heavy sigh.

He reached for his vest mounted radio. 'All patrols, command says to keep your eyes peeled for bandits. Let's call it interval.'

The Trappers instantly turned in their reports on by one. 'Mannus. Kiln. Jenkins. Partivan. Rio…'

The transmission befell to silence capturing the attention of the Captain. 'Kanaka?'

With no response, Ivar clenched his teeth as the shiver tingled down his spine. 'Send a squad, find him,' he instructed pointing to four idle guards. 'Mason, are you on deck?'

'Yes sir,' Mason's reply was swift, easing Iva's concerns.

'Captain Ivar, its Jenkins' a sharp voice intervened.

'Report?' Ivar furrowed his brow, that sense of unease rising in his chest.

'The engine room is sealed; we can't get in. Someone's welded the door,' the Trapper relayed.

Ivar could feel his arms prickle before he slammed his fist against the primary console. 'They're already here. Line the catwalks, move the forward ranks in a sweep! Do not prime the alarms, I want precision, I want restraint, and for it to be done quietly. Our quarry cannot come to harm, no more than a scratch if necessary,' he pushed through his subordinates, barking orders before turning to two bulkier soldiers equipped in military grade armour. 'You two, hold the rear, they'll be after our prize cargo.'

'Who are they sir?' the heavy reached for his assault rifle.

'Dragon Riders,' Ivar gritted his teeth.

He lifted the lid of a nearby supply crate and lifted out nozzle fitted flame thrower. 'Johann has a personal interest in their leader, we need him alive, dispose of the rest,' he pumped the loading mechanism priming a coiled net cartridge.

'What about their assassin's?' the other heavy noted, twisting her knife between her fingers. 'Jenkins said they have assassin's now.'

'I've heard of them too sir,' the male heavy remarked. 'Well trained, near invisible, armoured and with… blinding white eyes.'

Ivar cast them a grilled expression. 'They're only human.'

The Trappers quickly mobilised with formidable discreetness; their forces spread themselves among the containers pushing towards the bow. They were determined to scour the ship unyielding to the looming threat, but it would lay little on their conscience when invisible arms wrapped around their necks. Still, their line held firmly with each other's peripherals marking from Port to Starboard.

Flashburn could see the coordinated movement from his posting and the conclusion rang with clarity. 'All teams, they're onto us. Use the height advantage, climb those containers.

'We're pinned Flashburn, six on our flanks. They'll catch our trails in the fog,' Brant whispered through the comm. We could use a distraction.'

Flashburn knelt, hoisting his pack over his shoulder. 'I'm on my way,' Flashburn relayed, skipping across the crane arm.

Brant pressed himself against the container side, one eye on his sister, the other on the Trappers training their weapons before them. Even with their cloaks, at this distance, these sharp hunters wouldn't hesitate, if not for the mismatched clanking of footsteps channelling overhead. The Trappers whipped around to the sound finding no sight to match it; a parting in the fog left little time to react as a dark figure was suddenly ignited in a trail of sparks and fire, the residual moisture gleaming on their metallic surfaces sparkled in hues of red and indigo. The likeness of a slim man, he vaulted from atop the containers dragging his roaring blade down the corner steel; the Trappers opened a blaze of gunfire trailing to slow as the blazing strikes cut cleanly across their weapons.

Another figure mask by the night dashed between the Hamiltons, the Trappers' flank was exploited as a pair of glowing short-hand axes shone light across the deck in fantastic and elegant trails. They swung in tune with the blade wielder as they danced between each other. The path was cleared, and the duo quickly parted in short pursuit of their congregating foes. Brant signalled to his sister to circle around and catch them on the rear and yet, the thumps echoed beyond the small confines of the aisle to greater flashes of light and ripping steel. The dragons were startled, rattling spines, and wings against their confines as a dark mass bounded through the fog before them.

With the last of the party quelled in unconsciousness, the bladed man retracted his weapon, catching a twirling jab at his stumbling opponent leaving a trail of sparks from his left foot. The Trapper clambered away on his backside, reeling in fear as the figure suddenly lit up in a symmetrical array of lights. The chest piece was brazened with two vertically arranged bars flanked by speckled details on his shoulders and hips. Most alarming were the two blazing eyes drilling him down without emotion, at least until the world was collapsed into darkness. The man hesitated, casting an unseen expression to his partner now hovering the butt of her axe over the Trapper's head.

'Astrid, I had him right where I wanted him,' the man's face shield expanded and drew back in three different segments.

Brilliant green eyes shone with the mixed light, his expression able to breath truly with subtle admiration as his skin felt the chilly air. Hiccup Haddock crossed his arms with an endearing smile.

'And now he's right where I want him,' his partner pressed the button on the side of her helmet, revealing a pair of blue eyes matching the oceans of day. 'Come on, they know we're here,' Astrid Hofferson doubled back, signalling the others to file through.

'We've still got the stacked crates for cover,' Hiccup checked their corners for any hidden surprises. 'No doubt the Bridge is swarming.'

'For now, they'll be buffing their ground defences, not mention we've lost eyes for backup,' Astrid zeroed in on an extra to their company.

'What?' Hiccup wheeled around, his trepidation a fleeting wash over his face. 'Flashburn?'

'They're moving heavier armour down from the Bridge, you'll need the extra hands to clear this wave,' Flashburn strode with intent. 'Have you found the container?

'Not yet, don't suppose you've seen our dragons?' Hiccup kept his eyes roving for movement.

As if waiting for the cue, a large mass of black glossy scales slunk across the nearby cages, his eyes illuminated with a beautiful green aura. 'Toothless, there you are Bud. Sorry bout that, had to improvise there for a second,' Hiccup ran his gloved hands over the dragon's large scaly head.

The Night Fury cooed gleefully rubbing up against his rider, though not to say his own gaze wasn't peered for enemies. A rattling sound followed by hushed chirps caught their attention as an elegant Deadly Nadder clad in shimmering blue and gold scales poked her head in search of a hidden entity.

'Stormfly,' Astrid quickly reassured her dragon at last bringing the count to its max. 'Right, that's everyone. Final wave gang, set your charges then clear the blast zone.'

'Yes captain,' Brant acknowledged peeling off to run their next set of explosives.

'Astrid, you take point while Toothless and I search for this container. Flashburn, go with Brenda on port side. Once I find these dragons, blow the engines,' Hiccup instructed, as the other defenders set their explosives.

'I'll have Mala on route in time for extraction,' Flashburn rested a reassuring hand on Hiccup's armoured shoulder.

Hiccup caught his eye. 'Take care commander,' he said with a single nod, before donning his face shields.

All radio activity and Heads Up Display visuals activated, illuminating the world to another perspective. The Dragon Riders charged beyond their company with their dragons in tow, leaving the second wave of dragons to draw the attention of the Trappers with sharp cracks and wisps of fog. Astrid drew her axes as the breach line approached; the first Trapper was weapons drawn, easing a steady path down the aisle. She crossed into the shadows before jumping the hunter with a precise slice that severed his weapon. With a short jab to his gut, Astrid delivered the final blow against the back of his skull. For the most part, their aim was to avoid fatality, murder was a harsh needle to their conscience, even against such villainy and thanks to Flashburn, their training had proven quite resourceful. In any case, the guardians that loomed in their shadow were ever present to dish out any final deliverance that might escape their perception.

Astrid cast a quick glance to Hiccup as he ran his hand along the containers, scanning the various numerical labels. 'Three, o, three… five, two six one five nooo. Come on, where are you? WSK nine o? Argh, Powers, Tina?' he radioed into the escorts.

Now skirting the edge of the fog bank, the dragon escorts could see the bulk of the ship cruising at a degree just South of the major ice fields. Perpetina Powers was low to her saddle with her eyes trained towards the ship deck. Anora glided idly in the pack keeping a level distance with the other dragons; now Hiccup was on direct call for her services.

'I read you,' she pressed her hand to her ear, being sure to hear him correctly.

'I need you on deck to help me look for this crate, the second wave of Trappers are closing in,' he relayed succinctly.

Tina cast a quick glance to Mala in reserve of her unique disposition; the seasoned dragon expert in turn offered her confirmation with a short nod. 'Understood,' Tina replied, angling Anora towards the ship.

Hiccup and Toothless skimmed back along the aisle towards the railings whilst Astrid held their flank secure. A burst of gunfire ricocheted off the container, skimming Astrid's armour with little effect beyond the force of the impact. She followed through flinging her axe to embed itself through the barrel of the gun; a cursory volley of Nadder spines met the Trapper's shoulder as Stormfly whipped her tail in defence. Astrid retrieved her axe, rolling her shoulder under the impact of the bullet.

She felt the slight tear in the plating, marring the sheen of her otherwise flawless suit. 'Damn. Thanks Stormfly,' she sighed.

It was in time too as Anora coasted in with Powers quick to dismount on Hiccup's trail. They crossed paths with Brenda as her squad continued to layer the containers with explosives. Another trio of hunters caught them on the corner with Hiccup quick to draw them beyond cover. Toothless wasted no time in bounding up the container releasing a powerful blast that crippled the section of starboard railing.

'Nice work Toothless, keep these guys covered. We'll be up ahead,' Hiccup instructed parting ways with his dragon.

He drew his blade for a fast encounter, both Astrid and Tina laying into their disarmed foe. 'Swords and axes against guns. What madness inspired this?' Tina remarked.

'It's incentive more than anything,' Astrid replied. 'We're normally in and out before they notice.'

'And we'd also have more time to plan, but we got caught out on this shipment. Kudos, to the Trappers on keeping it in quiet,' Hiccup quipped, running his free hand against the corrugated steel.

'Yep, nothing like an aggressive strategy at two in the morning, but you know we've had worse,' Astrid swivelled in her step as they crossed an aisle.

'I know,' Hiccup's voice was laced with a solemness born from the past. 'Gods, where is it? Hugh said it was in column 11, row 14,' he retracted his face shield.

'There!' Tina spied the corresponding inventory number painted in white bold print. 'WND-five three four nine.'

Hiccup cast a relieving smile. 'Which means the others are only two columns down. Come on.'

Tina vaulted onto Anora as the Razorwhip began to scale the containers, her sharp talons denting the steel. 'Once you three are clear, head straight back to base. We'll cover your escape,' Astrid explained, dropping her face shield.

Tina acknowledged the plan, returning her attentions to the container. 'It's been too long girl, open her up.'

Anora reeled back before blasting at the locks, shredding them with her silver fire. The doors creaked on their hinges as Tina scaled up her dragons neck to sneak inside. She parted them allow a little more light to filter in revealing the shimmer of silver scales dancing in an ominous coil.

'Windshear?' Tina whispered into the darkness, the soft slide of metal echoing around her. 'hey, do you remember me?' she carefully outstretched her hand as she had always known before a single eye that glowed with acid green parted.

Tina steadied her breathing, lowering herself. 'I'm here to take you home.'

The sparks rained and the puddles splashed under their feet as Hiccup and Astrid weaved through what little cove they had. The heavier lines of Trappers had pushed forward beyond the shadow of the Bridge but enough stood by to prevent their approach. They split for cover behind the outer Bridge supports and the last container with gunfire sparkling up the deck.

'The last of the dragons are in those three containers,' he indicated to the set behind the Trapper line. 'According to our source.'

'If we can trust our source,' Astrid grimaced holding her axes close to her chest plates.

'Fair enou-Agh! I really don't fancy running through that,' Hiccup remarked.

'They're closing in,' Astrid dared to peek with yet another spray of smouldering steel to meet her. 'Oooh, nope,' she planted herself up against the crate, retracting her face shield. 'Call it in. Use the distraction.'

Her face was strained with the impending fatality the corner beheld; Hiccup honoured her request, dialling up his timer. 'Flashburn, we're picking up too much heat.'

'Did you find the dragons?' he replied.

'Yeah, technically. The Trappers have us pinned and we could really use a distraction,' Hiccup flinched as another burst sparked by.

Flashburn was bunkered down with the other Defenders casting an eye to where Toothless couched on guard. 'Set clocks for six minutes. We have our window ladies and gentlemen. Light her up.'

The rescue teams signalled off to each other, Timor and Ophera held their detonators in hand. 'Do it,' and with a single button, a chain reaction crackled across the deck as steel ripped and burned.

From the Bridge, Ivar was poised in disbelief as the ship trembled, the rows of containers and cages were illuminated by a single crack of light before smoke mixed with the fog in a swirling haze. They could not see before them, but the wings that billowed in threads through the mist, a great charge for freedom found high in the twilight. The second of the blasts rumbled from below, throwing the Trappers to the deck and there, Hiccup and Astrid pushed for their prize. They cut through their weapons with ease, leaving their bodies limp for a later awakening.

'That's that,' Hiccup remarked.

'Hiccup watch out!' Astrid caught a raised barrel from out of the corner of her eye.

She slipped in behind him ripping through the barrel in a vertical strike that exploded with a mix of molten steel and gunfire. Her elbow was quick to ram an armoured chest piece as she brought the rest of mangled rifle overhead. The attacker was avenged in moments as a second armoured combatant countered her parry with a solid coat hanger. Astrid's armour sparked on impact as the soldier followed through with a knife. She caught the plunge in time to deflect it towards the deck; time enough for Hiccup to return with a solid right hook to the heavy's face before slicing at her armour with his blade. The charred pieces clattered to the deck with the woman groaning in pain as the sizzling residue cooled too close to her skin.

'Heavies,' Hiccup grunted.

Her counterpart was fast on recovery, once again catching Hiccup's blind side with a shoulder charge. The world flipped on its head and he felt the full force of the impact as the soldier slammed him to the deck. His blade was knocked clean from his hand as the heavy drew his handgun for a point-blank shot. The gun ripped apart in a blazing flash as Astrid flung her other axe before flipping herself onto her feet with a twirling kick to the heavy's jaw. She pushed through with a series of crushing blows, cartwheeling to nab her fallen axe and flourish it in a dance perfected through months of training. The heavy managed to catch a few blocks against the handle, but the radiating heat of the blade broke his parries as Astrid chipped away at his gauntlets.

Hiccup in the meantime, painfully dragged himself to his feet, retrieving his blade. 'Ow. Where're the dragons when you need them? Save getting pounded,' he checked through his systems panels finding no issues, only a little scarring to the paint.

'So they fight for you?' a gravely voice emanated behind him.

He didn't wait for thought, no secondary consideration as his blade slashed in an upward stroke, clipping the female heavy's mask. She screamed clutching at her face, her feet lost to their path as she stumbled across the deck in defeat. It was impossible to know how his hand acted with such definitive action, the hand he angled in such a way that the tip of the blade merely skimmed her flesh; the wound would cauterise and scar forever marking her memory of this day. For Hiccup, he felt it as a blur, the next step in a flourishing sequence of movements that would either save him or sign his death. There was no further thought, no lingering consequence as he retracted the blade to magnetise firmly against his leg.

As for Astrid, she worked her foe's resolve like grounding materials to powder. The heavy swayed with each successive jab to his pressure points. He crashed against the railing Starboard railing, rolling out of Astrid's fluent strikes. She severed them on each side in a cross action before driving her foot against the heavy's chest. The railing gave way and with a strangled cry, he tumbled to the aft deck. Astrid stepped up to the edge and watched as he crawled away in agony, unable to face she who vanquished him.

'That was hard,' Hiccup groaned, refocusing her attention. 'Harder than normal,' he handed her second axe back in turn.

'Thanks,' she deposited the weapon against her back holsters. 'They were military, trained mercs, not like Drago's rabble.'

Hiccup paused for a moment as the realisation dawned a strange reality upon him. 'Huh. No, no way, military would have nailed us round a corner, they're precise and… son of Gronkle.'

'Yep, not exactly inspiring,' Astrid replied, leading towards their target containers.

'We have three minutes and no, not what I meant,' he thinned his lips. 'The game's changing Astrid. Whoever is running the show, Drago, Johann, whoever, they're beginning to take us seriously.'

She could feel his words sink with a hidden weight. 'And you're not sure what that means?'

He shook his head to the simple truth before his eyes turned towards the containers. 'But this, I'd like to know,' Hiccup remarked, as he brandished his blade through the locks. 'Open sesame.'

For what revelation they may have imagined was a stark contrast, neither rare nor elusive were these dragons but common without question. If not for Astrid's eye catching a distinct marking that separated these dragons from the rest, their bounty was no more than a brown Gronkle, a red Monstrous Nightmare, and a green Hideous Zippleback.

'No. That's… how, when?' Astrid exclaimed hesitant to move any closer. 'They're racing dragons? How did they get racing dragons?'

Hiccup was caught off guard, his history fell short and for the first time in too long, he was lost to an explanation. 'I don't know,' his heart was thrumming with the adrenaline in his veins; they weren't safe here. 'We have to keep moving. Where's Stormfly?'

The Nadder appeared on command with a short chirp as the young Dragon Riders carefully approached the dragons. 'Oh, on call apparently,' Hiccup grumbled.

'Good training,' Astrid, spread a teasing grin before setting her intent towards the racing dragons.

They recoiled at first, unnerved by the strange creatures before them, scales of metal and glowing lights over their bodies. But behind the carapace was flesh and blood, they could smell them, they could see the shine of their eyes as they approached with open hands.

'It's ok,' Hiccup cooed, his gloved hands still shaking. 'We're friends, we're here to rescue you.'

In the heat of the commotion, the dragon trappers were overwhelmed in their numbers as dragons scuttled and clawed for escape. Flashburn and the Defenders were on the run, vaulting out onto the aft girders. Another blast impacted upon the starboard billowing a plume of flame.

'I hope we got them all, we had to skip on a few empty cages,' Brant commented to Flashburn as he jumped the railing.

'We've done all we could,' he replied with an eye on the aisles. 'Escorts, you're clear for extraction off the Starboard aft. Two minutes, lets hustle.'

Toothless paced around guarding their exit as the last of the Defenders filed in; his sharp senses cut through the mists and debris tracking any lingering threat. Of course, not all were enemies to blast with plasma as Sweeny and Brenda dashed beyond smoke.

'This thing is tearing itself apart Balmore, might've overdone the bangsticks,' Brenda quipped before she acrobatically cleared the railing for a clean landing below.

'Show off,' Flashburn chuckled to himself.

Sweeny eased up to climb down carefully. 'What about Hiccup and Astrid?'

'They've got their own rides Ava,' he said as the winds pelted down in heavy waves that plumed the smoke and mist around them. 'Speaking of which. Toothless, best return to Hiccup, we'll see you back at base,' he rubbed the Night Fury's neck before returning to his own escort.

The dragon's mass weighed in on the failing integrity of the freighter, but Big Red was no idle behemoth. The Crimson Goregutter stood tall with his antlers tearing down the walls of several containers around him. Flashburn took his leave with a final glance down the Starboard aisle only to face a demon that inhibited the torrential chaos in nightmares. His limbs froze, his eyes locked in a paralysis as all around he saw the shivering hallway drench in rain. The lone gunman raised his weapon with paramount intent and he could hear the echo in his mind call the very name that would take the heart from him.

'Drago!' Flashburn felt his shoulders crunch up against a frigid railing.

The gunfire whizzed past and in its place, a streak of bright light that exploded in smoke and plasma. 'Balmore! Balmore, look at me.'

He knew those eyes, beautiful green eyes that saw many incomparable wisdoms and wonders of this green Earth. Slowly, the waves below became a known noise and he could hear the strained cries of a fierce and principled woman.

'Diane? I…' he jumped his hands to his chest feeling for wounds where there were none.

Mala wrapped his arm over her shoulders as she carried to safety. 'Thuggory! Help him up.'

Thomas Mogadon leant down from his saddle rig with both hands. 'I've got you sir,' it was an effortless manoeuvre, with Mala leaping her way up to secure him. 'Alright big guy, take us home.'

Big Red roared with pleasure towards the idea, lifting up to release the crushing weight upon the deck. His thunderous wings dragged them in pursuit of their companions, linked up on their escorts in a great menagerie of multicoloured dragons.

'Where're the Wild Cards commander?' Thuggory searched far and wide for the distinct shapes of his friends. 'They have their own path Tom, trust me,' Mala rest a hand on his shoulder in reassurance despite the turmoil that amassed in her heart.

Rightly so, Astrid had locked in her harness and as Stormfly pottered about, the racing dragons calm at her tail as they poked about with curious eyes. Astrid returned a glance to Hiccup as he gently eased the Gronkle from her confines; he was measured with ease casting a single nod in her favour.

'Go on ahead,' he said. 'I wanna scope the Bridge, grab a manifest.'

'Don't be long,' Astrid replied.

'Yeah, well I'm stuck until Toothless shows up,' he spread his arms out. 'Seems he's gotten lost… again. I'll radio in once we're away, don't wait up,' he took to the stairwell, dropping his face shield.

The stairs clanked under his feet as he ascended to the helm; Astrid and the racing dragons surged beyond the mist with ease in a clean chase after the main flock buzzing on the horizon. They'd played their cards with precision and cohesion enough to execute a less than promising plan. Stealth for all its benefits was a delicate luxury, one Hiccup knew played to his disadvantage. A metal prosthetic no matter how advanced in its mechanics was still metal.

'Hold it right there!' Hiccup was caught on the last corner, it was the Captain no less, and armed quite extensively with incendiary equipment.

Hiccup took one look at the flamethrower and his shoulders dropped. 'Good one.'

Ivar sprayed a searing stream of flame without further warning, the inferno coated the catwalk in flickering flames as Hiccup bore the brunt of it. He raised his arm out of instinct, but nonetheless continued his path without injury or delay. Ivar could feel the heat being reflected as Hiccup slipped out of the central stream and grabbed hold of the fuel shaft. The motion was fluent enough to nab a knife fastened to Ivar's belt and slice the hose leaving the residual fuel to spurt and drip between the grates. Ivar stumbled against the stairs, his hands fumbling for the holster on his leg. He raised his arm for quick shot but Hiccup knew too well the thinking behind gunman of any kind. In his right hand, he held the stolen knife and with his left he brought his blade through the handgun with ease.

'At ease Captain,' Hiccup simply stepped past, tossing the knife into the chaos below.

Ivar could feel his arms trembling, his mind lost in feverous waves of impossibility. 'You… you walked through fire!'

'Ah huh,' Hiccup paid him little mind, rising at last to the helm.

The room was deserted with flashing lights and sirens blaring in a red haze. 'Great, less than a minute, come on, give me port,' his HUD ran an intense visual scan quickly highlighting a standard USB slot.

'Jackpot,' he slid past the chair and pressed a small panel on his gauntlet revealing a USB cord outfitted with an auto executable virus.

The small light flashed green on the port and within a second, his gauntlet displayed a number files being extracted from the ship's logging database. It would only take a few seconds, time enough for Hiccup to admire the mess left in the Defender's wake, but the absence of a particularly unique dragon was growing a darkness on his mind; he'd be sunk if they'd missed anything.

'Where are you buddy,' he whispered to himself.

His gauntlet flashed and Hiccup unplugged himself just as the lights gave out, plunging the room into a darkness beyond the lights of his suit. 'Right on time,' he chuckled, pressing a node on his hip that deposited a set of small cylindrical charges into his hand.

Hiccup flung them at the backwall alloying them to magnetise as he exited back onto the catwalks to a familiar sight down below. 'There you… ahh? Hehe, hey guys,' until the corner was host to a slight detail left within the recesses of his attention.

Given how six Trappers were assembled blocking both paths with their rifles pointed at his head, this was a rather uncanny conundrum, a conundrum to the unobservant at least. Jenkins stood firm; nonetheless, rising on Ivar's behalf to greet Hiccup with a personal regard. Jenkins should have been listening, for the wind in his ears rose in a shrill spike before a blast of light dislodged the catwalk. The other Trappers cowered for cover opening the only window Hiccup needed to vault from the rails and catch the grips of his saddle.

'Haha, always have my back Toothless.' he quipped, slamming his foot into the stirrups.

They circled round the Bridge for one final pass before Hiccup laid to rest the finale of his destructive machine. He pressed a dial on his gauntlet and the Bridge erupted in a splitting blast that shattered the helm. The remaining Trappers threw themselves from the catwalk as glass and shredded steel ripped by. Their work was done, the ship crippled at sea and to dare such a swim back to Berk held worse odds than staying put. A military patrol would find its way in time if not with a little guidance but until then, the star fields above call them home. Hiccup slowly clipped his harness into place allowing the free air to draw them out as the long night called him to rest. Tomorrow would come, Berk would greet them with silver towers against the cusp of sunlight and the dragons would meet their utopia.

To be Continued in

|| RAIDERS RETURN TO BUSY BUSY BERK PART 2 ||

That's it for January, I have assessment coming, a family trip, forklift training and my 21st in Feb before it's back to the regular old UNI season - Year three of four.

I dislike Thursdays

My OC novel finally has its intricate plot

And the ravaging bushfires down South are like a strange dystopia that only comes to mind when I watch the news. But at least there's been a bit of rain.

Stay classy dragonites :D