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Phase 11: Party crashers
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Part 1
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Issabelle's Diner
Puente Antiguo
New Mexico
After two more pots of hot chocolate and a more detailed retelling of how Thor ended up here, our guest still wasn't jumping around like a kid having a sugar rush. The ribs he ordered were still a few hours away from being ready. He was busy demolishing a big dish of eggs, bacon, and cheese, watering it all down with orange juice.
By now, I was sure I had a pretty good handle on the situation of how Thor ended up exiled, especially if his latest shenanigans were the latest in a long pattern instead of a one-off fuck-up by the numbers. I was also confident he would have a good chance of winning an eating competition against a hungry Wookie… if the Wookie was a smaller example of its species.
"Let's go in chronological order with the latest issues at hand," I began while Thor munched on crispy bacon. Say what you will, a dinner in a small town so far was a better place to hold diplomatic negotiations than many others I've had to suffer back in my day.
"Yes, let's!" The Prince nodded eagerly.
"There were obviously Ice Giants involved in the break-in that led to the whole fiasco, right?"
"Yes, we caught them red-handed! There were even a few that would live long enough to be interrogated! There certainly were recordings from the Destroyer and pieces of Ice Giants left after that thing father uses as a security for the deep vaults finished blasting them to bits!"
Where's HK-117 when you need him? That assassin droid could solve all kinds of sticky problems I would inevitably face in the future.
"Deniable assets? False flag operations? Do those words ring a bell?" I asked.
Thor pouted at me while chewing on more bacon, which wasn't generally good. No matter how bad for your health, bacon was bacon, full stop.
"I really didn't think in those terms. There was a clear enemy in front of me, yet Father wanted to waste time with diplomacy and more investigations!"
Even going by his mixed emotions, I wasn't sure if Thor was trying to justify himself or merely explaining precisely what happened.
"First, before we discuss this in detail, which we should, I must ask you two pointed questions, Prince Thor," I shifted gears while trying to figure out what outcome would best serve Earth and me. A friendly future ruler of an interstellar Empire would fit the bill. However, an incompetent ruler, or a mediocre one who loathed the job and had no intention of improving themselves, could be a disaster in the making.
"One, do you want to one day rule Asgard? Do you want your father's throne and all that entails? Two, if not, are you prepared for the consequences of someone else sitting on that throne and getting it wrong?"
Thor's face scrunched in a complicated series of expressions, which did their best, yet miserably failed to mirror his rampaging emotions. Oppressive silence fell upon the dinner. Everyone was eager to see what would happen next, as if this was a soap opera they were die-hard fans of.
"It's my birthright. Me taking the throne after Odin one day passes? It is what everyone expects," Thor looked oddly at me. "I think you are the first person to ask me if I want it, Lord Stark. Some believe that I am not worthy. Hel, perhaps even Loki, believes he might do a better job of it. Yet, even he never asked if I wanted the damn position in the first place!" Thor snapped, then slumped in his seat. "To tell the truth, Lord Stark, I don't really know. Before my exile? I would have said I wanted it! It was mine! But now that you asked? After I got exiled by my Father for being unworthy? I don't know. I also don't know who besides Loki might replace me as an heir, much less what they would do if they ever tried to do my Father's job."
That admission was like opening a festering wound and letting it drain. After it, Thor felt exhausted and the calmest since I met him.
"People are not born rulers, though they might inherit talents that make it more feasible. It's something you are taught and, more importantly, have to learn on the job because no substitute could fully prepare you for it. Leadership, diplomacy, oratory lessons, knowledge about the military and military service… those are all foundations to build upon if you are fortunate enough to have them. Finding the right support base, the right people to fill in for your shortcomings can be more important than any other trait you have as a leader."
"The right councilors and advisers," Thor nodded in agreement. "Father is always trying to find the best, and the court is constantly trying to shove their candidates in his face."
"Such people often have their own agenda. At best, ideas they want to implement and believe would serve your nation better than any alternatives. At worst, they're merely masking their lust for power and how they serve themselves with clever words."
"I hate such duplicity! It has no place among honorable warriors!"
"In that, military leadership and leading a nation can differ greatly. There is no place for honorable warriors following their hearts and honor at the head of a nation unless you have an uncontested military advantage against everyone, both domestic and foreign. That much I can tell you from bitter experience."
"You were a warrior? Not just a commander?" Thor asked.
"I still am, to an extent, a warrior at heart, yet that was often not enough. Ruling and politics are different battlefields, requiring different skills and mindsets. There are often enemies in the shadows you can't openly strike at because you can't distinguish them from your friends and allies. Honor has its place and the reputation of being honorable as well. Just don't let it be a weapon used to bring you down," I chuckled bitterly. "Of course, nowadays, I'm stuck in a body that betrays me, crippled by metal in my chest. The path of the warrior is now closed for me. You, on the other hand…." I raised an eyebrow at Thor.
"I don't know if I want the throne. However, I do know that want might not come into it. There can be others who would be worse leaders of Asgard than me. I might have to become Odin's worthy heir no matter what my heart cries for!" Thor decided.
His certainty was a bright, reassuring flame. The question was would it remain that way?
"I should have waited for a proper investigation, right?" Thor changed the topic.
"As a ruler, just because you have a just cause for a military intervention doesn't mean you should execute one. In the same vein, sometimes, even an excuse could and should be enough. It is all in the details, Prince Thor. What is Asgard's strategic situation? What other enemies might wait for a distraction before striking? Could you afford a campaign against the Ice Giants? Do you have another choice? Will a potential victory serve Asgard best?" I gave him food for thought. "Those are just a few of the questions that your Father should have answered for himself before ordering a retaliation. Don't get me started on what your story implied about your incursion against the Ice Giants. A few friends and some Royal Guards? I hope you were greatly understating things there…."
The wave of guilt and shame that erupted from Thor was telling me all I needed to know in general about that stunt. A young Prince, who wasn't so young, did something dumb that could have killed many people and sparked a war. That was an ancient story, no matter the galaxy we were in.
"Aye, you are right, Lord Stark! I will think long and hard about the consequences of starting a war or just a punitive expedition. There are other things that the immediate offenders to consider! All I thought was the glory of combat! Of the heroism and accolades to win!"
"There are always heroes in wars, Prince Thor. There are heroes as long as there are wars until the wars end or there is no one left to fight. Glory can be a relative thing. It doesn't bring the dead back to life. It doesn't heal the broken in mind or body, neither it replenishes the spent resources, nor does it bring back the lost equipment. In my experience, glory is the privilege of the powerful and a drug for the masses."
"The Lady Sif and the Warriors Three, Loki too, the Jotun couldn't match us when working together. We were generally faster and stronger. We were better trained and equipped. Yet, the Royal Guard, even with their peerless equipment, couldn't properly keep up. They kept suffering casualties, and the Jotun kept coming…." Thor said with a far-off look on his face. "We barely held the line when Odin came and brought us back with the Bifrost. I was so angry at being pushed back, at not winning the glorious victory I believed we were owed… I didn't think, and when Father criticized me, I was in no state to think clearly or listen. I was just so angry that he wasn't the one to lead us against the Jotun! I… I fucked up," Thor bitterly admitted.
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Part 2
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Aesir prison realm
Helheim
Some days, it was easier to imagine that the shades surrounding her, and trying to keep her sane, were the real people they looked, talked to, and felt like. On other days, the charade was pure torture.
Either way, without those engrams, Hela would have gone far beyond insane a long time ago. It didn't help that out of her prison, her Valkyries were gone. They had been gone for centuries upon centuries now. This prison was the closest she could ever be to a home that no longer was.
Hela was content to watch her Valkyries train. Some of them dueled, and others fought in melee, maintaining flawless formations. Many others prepared for the real wars their kind was meant to fight and win. Magnificent war machines blending Asgard's best technology and mastery of magic strode across deadly battlefields, reaping countless lives with their magi-tech armaments. Drones, fighters, strike craft, and bombers swarmed in the sky and low orbit, fending off an endless stream of worthy opponents. Above them, the silver hulls of Asgard warships cleaved the heavens with divine fire.
It was glorious. It was all an illusion. Hela wasn't sure if she cared anymore as long as she could lose herself in this blend of memories and simulated battles. Days flew by like heartbeats, and months and years blurred into centuries until one day, the very fabric of the prison rippled. The shift found Hela in the command center of a massive battleship, overseeing the invasion of a simulated Nova Empire.
The shades of her closest confidants and most trusted offices froze in the face of Odin's projection that walked in as if he belonged.
"Hela," Odin sounded and looked tired.
He was old, much older than the last time he dared show his face. How many centuries it was since he came to gloat after spawning himself a replacement for her, Hela wondered. Not that it mattered.
"King Odin," she hissed back, yet to her surprise, the venom in her voice had dried out sometime over the endless centuries she spent here. "Here to gloat, Your Majesty?" She made a mockery of a proper bow.
"I am contemplating my mistakes, General," Odin surprisingly admitted.
"Did your golden-haired son disappoint you? What was my replacement's name anyway? It has been so long since you mentioned it. Or visit, for that matter," Hela smiled after she could bring a semblance of her usual venom in her voice. It was just a fraction of what Odin deserved.
"Thor is my son! He was never meant to be your replacement!" Odin barked, and the whole prison realm shivered at his anger.
So there was some fire left in the old man's belly.
"Of course not. He was meant to be better, wasn't he? Less of a failure. An obedient little soldier," Hela spat. "He is your son. Yet you refuse to acknowledge me as your daughter. Hela. General. Weapon. Mistake. Monster. Butcher." Hela wagged her fingers at Odin as she spoke. "But never, your daughter! Not after you made me your weapon and threw me at Asgard's enemies!"
"I might not have been the best of parents. I wanted you to be what Asgard needed," Odin sighed. "Just like with Thor."
"What happened? Did my replacement get himself killed?"
"I exiled him to Midgard," Odin surprised her again.
"That primitive place? What did he do? Start a war?"
"He did his best to do so," Odin grumbled.
"Why isn't he here then?" Hela snapped.
"You did much more than try to start a war. You were the commander of Asgard's armies, the leader of the Valkyries!" Odin's voice shook the whole realm. "Thor didn't have a fraction of the authority I trusted you with!" Odin closed his eye as if it pained him to look at her. "He betrayed my trust and endangered Asgard just like you did anyway!"
Hela laughed at that. "Then I might like to meet the boy and congratulate him. He couldn't be all bad then!"
Odin narrowed his eye at her and waved a hand. "You want to encourage this?" Odinforce flowed into the prison, forming an illusion of a large blond man sitting in a strange place. He was conversing with a shorter man, dark of hair and eyes.
What they discussed made Odin shut up and stare at the illusion in disbelief. Hela followed suit, curiously observing her little brother and his companion. This was the first time she had seen him since Thor was a few years old, which was the last time Odin deigned to visit and torment her with visions of what was forever out of her grasp.
"A mortal appears to have more sense than you did back then, mighty King Odin!" Hela found herself again surprised that day, this time by her genuine and merry laughter. "Are you going to summon not-so-little Thor away from that bad influence?"
Hela looked at Odin, who had an odd, contemplative expression.
"He had access to the best teachers, thinkers, and philosophers on Asgard, yet he didn't pay them any attention. Now, he's listening to a Midgardian of all people?!" Odin exclaimed in bafflement. "At least the man isn't a fool. Where did I go wrong with that boy? Where did I go wrong with you, Hela?"
"I have a very long list!"
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Asgard
Loki stood behind Heimdall, weaving illusions to allow them both to see what the Watcher's sight observed about Thor. From all the expectations Loki had about his brother? This wasn't it.
Why couldn't Thor do anything right, including fail? At this rate, and because of that damned mortal, his brother might prove himself redeemed and worthy of the throne! If that happened, Loki didn't know what he would do. He could never compare or compete with a real son of Odin in the AllFather's eyes. Thor's continued failures and, well, Thor being himself, were the only path he had to power and a future in Asgard.
Loki paced behind the distracted Heimdall. He had to do something about this while he still could. Why would Thor listen to a random mortal anyway?! It wasn't like that man was a font of unprecedented wisdom! Loki could have told his fool of a brother the same, only if Thor sat down and listened! That he was doing so with a random stranger, instead of anyone from Asgard, much less Loki himself, hurt worse than the trickster believed possible!
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Issabelle's Diner
Puente Antiguo
New Mexico
"Prince Thor, I will be remiss in my duties if I don't ask certain questions about the Frost Giants. From what you told me so far, I can't just assume your people will immediately intervene in case of Frost Giant incursion on Earth due to your presence. Dealing with something like that, without further aid from Asgard, is something your father might decide is part of your penance. That is especially true if we're talking about a limited incursion compared to a full-scale invasion. What are we looking at as a threat assessment? Military capabilities? Numbers? Preferred tactics?" I could absolutely see a certain kind of bastard doing something like this and using the resulting fallout as both a teaching opportunity and a way to remind the primitives that they needed their betters' protection.
Thor lit up at those questions. Excitement, eagerness to please, and need to be validated and recognized mixed with other, less acute emotions.
"That I can help with. I've clashed multiple times with the Jotun, including here on Earth, during their last invasion, when they managed to capture parts of what you call Scandinavia, I believe!"
"Do go on," I nodded. Every soldier in the diner leaned forward and was ready to literally or figuratively take notes on the tactical information we were about to receive.
"Now, unless they're cloaked with magic, there's no mistaking them. Jotun is, on average larger than me. They are tough bastards with obvious blue, gray, or mixed skin that often have colored patterns like waves or ripples. The Jotun tend to have ridges on their faces; sometimes, it's hardened skin; others, they're actual bone crests. Tactically and practically, they seldom use technology, relying on innate control of ice magic. The Jotun use it to form hardened armor around their bodies and various melee weapons around their limbs – from spikes and blades to spears and the like. They can create and launch hardened, razor-sharp ice shards that can penetrate advanced armor, making them dangerous at range, especially for those who are unaware of such abilities and underestimate them."
That covered basic infantry and physical overview. They did sound like nasty customers, especially if their ice armor, general toughness, and speed allowed them to get in close quarters. That would be deadly for our infantry.
"What about vehicles, air force, the like?"
"Air has always been a big weakness for them. Outside a limited number of Ice Dragons, which can be dangerous beasts at the best of times, the Jotun usually rely on using the Casket of Ancient Winters to create ice storms that ground combat and transport aircraft by either shredding them or freezing them over and forcing them to land. That was the artifact that I thought they were after. It binds much of their realm's magic and ensures they aren't a major offensive threat as long as it was under our control and sealed within Asgard's vaults."
Now, that would be a nasty out-of-context problem to deal with. It would cripple mobility, reconnaissance, air support, and perhaps even artillery, shaping the battlefield into one that plays to the enemy's strength and mitigates those of a modern military.
"Naturally, the Frost Giants won't be bothered by murderous winter and the ice storms?" I asked lightly.
"Their Frost Giants, of course not!" Thor scoffed. "While they can live in all reasonable climates, they thrive in the cold."
A magi-tech climate control device that doubles as a super-weapon. My inner scientist wasn't sure if it wanted to squeeze in glee at the idea and possibilities or scream in vexation.
"Combat vehicles and the like? Heavy weapons the Frost Giants favor?"
"Trained war-beasts and frost magic, which can be versatile and deadly; however, those who can utilize it for more than direct attacks are few and far between. They tend to be primary targets to take out. As for the beasts," Thor grimaced. "To be honest, awakening one of them was among the reasons we began to retreat. That thing was nearly as tall as this building, and its torso alone was larger than the first few floors. It took me multiple strikes with Mjolnir with all the power of the storm and lighting behind them to fend it off. You need heavy weapons or enchanted blades to pierce their tough hide, which can be a challenge even if they don't have ice armor."
If those things visited in force, we would have to rely on direct-fire weaponry and, at best short-range artillery. Anything longer-ranged would be potentially useless due to ice magic. Joy. Naturally, any force set up to exclusively counter the Ice Giant threat would be lacking against a different opponent.
I foresaw many sleepless nights in the Pentagon and other such facilities worldwide.
"What are their usual tactics?"
"The Jotun would prefer to advance under cover of a storm, which they can make even without the Casket, though those won't shred or necessarily down aircraft depending on how tough and capable they are. Ice Drakes and Dragons would hit defensive lines, followed by war-beasts and large numbers of Jotun aiming to exploit the chaos to get to grips with the defenders. On the defense, they would use the cold and storms to weaken the enemy, then counter-attack in terrain and places that maximize their natural advantages and minimize the enemy's strengths."