7 June 2016, Camp 26, 0029 EDT

"I do not like this Cassie," Kurt whispered to me. I would be lying if I told him that I didn't feel it too, that sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. The wind whipped around us as we spoke, cutting through my meager uniform and stinging all exposed skin.

"We have no choice, Nightcrawler," I told him simply, "Loki's our king whether we like it or not."

He was silent as we walked through the tent city, and I kept an eye on him. I could feel his distain, and truth be told, I felt no different.

Camp 26 was located on the fringes of Midgardian space, close to the front lines where Asgard's space began. There was a base here because of the breathable, yet persistently disgusting atmosphere. It was dark here almost all the time, for this planet orbited its sun very slowly and very far away, so even during the day, it was dark.

"He's asked for us because he thinks that we're the best," I continued.

Kurt wore a tiny smile for a moment, taking his shallow compliment in stride for a moment, before his creased face twisted back into the scowl that I had learned to love these past four years, "will there ever be peace?" he asked me suddenly.

I stopped walking, and Kurt turned to me and watched me closely. I looked up at the sky, into the permanent night. The stars twinkled and the sky was streaked with seams of gold and purple amid the backdrop of a dark blue against the jagged black mountains of this world contrasted with the straight, crisp tents. This place would be beautiful if they weren't at war.

"I hope so, Kurt," I told him, looking into his dark eyes for a moment, "I hate this rotten war."

"Mmh," Kurt said simply, and began walking again, "I still do not understand why it must be us."

"May you live in interesting times."

"I got that in a fortune cookie once," Kurt sneered, "when this war ends, I will burn the place down."

He wandered off to his own tent at their little Hilton, leaving me to my own devices, and I walked around the camp for a few more minutes before I entered my own tent and took up a perch on my cot. Inside my tent were a few shelves made of empty condensed milk crates that I had broken the bottoms out of, and I reached above my cot for a nylon cord, my light cord. I took a book out of my shelf and opened it up at my bookmark. It was a picture of me and my family.

I was so young back then, just before I ran away from home in 2000, with a smiling, pleasant face that sometimes I didn't recognize. My hair was so long and black back then and my eyes were clear and playful. My parents were with me, smiling away, my father in a conservative suit and my mother in a short cocktail dress. I wore jeans in this picture and a black duster, an ankle length black trenchcoat that I had been given. This picture had been taken on my sixteenth birthday, a lifetime ago.

Sometimes I felt that I had to stare at this picture for hours to remind me of who I was, to remind myself that this little dissenter was once me.

I was jolted out of my esoteric meditation by a pillow hitting the back of my head, presumably thrown by my roommate Kat.

"If you're gonna read, do it in the dark."

June 8 2016. Asgard, 0165 EDT

"Now, Pierce, I have appointed you and your team as my security because your team is considerably better than any other of my Midgardian Forces."

"Yes, my King," I said flatly, walking beside him as he entered Asgard's Great Hall where Odin, the King of Asgard would meet them. My team was positioned outside to prevent assassins entering, stationed on rooftops.

I turned away from my king for a moment, "Kurt, are you in position?"

"Affirmative," said a tiny voice in her ear, "I have a clear view of the front door."

I chose Kurt Wagner for my crack team because he was the only survivor of the X-Men attack on the New Order. He was asked to look after the mutant children at Xavier's School, and then the Chitauri attacked them, took the children with the useful mutations and killed the rest in front of Kurt. There were rumours that King Loki had murdered the children himself, but Kurt wouldn't speak about it. It was apparent though that after the X-Men fell, he switched sides to do what he could within the New Order.

"MJ?"

"I have the side entrances covered," MJ told me in a thick Texan drawl. Formerly a Marine, Michael Jenkins was a machine. You could point MJ in any direction and he would fight and simply keep going. Jenkins had fantastic stamina and a body like rock which allowed him to move through even Asgardian soldiers like a tank through parked cars. He hated me at first, but then I proved to be more than a competent leader, and he accepted my rule.

"Frank?"

"Jet's prepped in case we have to make an emergency exit," Frank Smith was an Australian, and he was endowed with a gift that made farming in such a dry climate a little easier; he could make it rain. When the worldwide war with Loki had started, he was drafted to defend Australia, which had one of the highest populations of mutants. I think a direct result of this was that Australia was the last country to fall.

"Lars?"

"I am on the roof, Capo, and have located four possible infiltration points I have them covered with Claymore mines." Lars Christiansen was Swiss, and he was a brilliant scientist. What most people didn't know was that Lars could halt time for a short time. It was very dangerous for him, and if he held time back for too long, his brain would easily explode.

"Kat?"

"I have the last exit on the ground covered and have located an exfiltration point if things get too hairy. It is heavily guarded, and a main thoroughfare, but with my," she coughed, "talents, it should be the cakewalk."

Finally, there was Katerina Tatylova, a Russian who had also grown up in the Red Room. She was always second to Black Widow, and she had a gift. She could absorb small amounts of nuclear radiation and use it to power herself, redirect it and use it for special attacks. She was the big hitter of my team, Freak Force One, and she was also the roommate that helped me distill my gin.

"If you succeed at this mission, I will consider you and your team for promotion," King Loki told her further with that small yet commanding voice of his, "but only if you perform to my satisfaction."

Got any blow? It was the tiny, sarcastic voice in the back of my head that spoke to me often, and I smiled slightly until I realized that my king was looking directly at me. I shook the thought out of my head, "anything to further our advanced civilization, my king."

He wore a tiny smile along with his formal Asgardian garb, the only thing that he had kept from his old days of Princedom, I guess. He wore a helmet of gold with long curved horns sticking out from the front, green cape which brushed the floor as he walked in his specially made boots. His chest plate was leather but lined with Kevlar. He had made a few changes to his armor on Midgard, and used human body armor because of the principle that bullets hurt. With his hair cropped just below his ears, he cut a mean figure, his face thin, pale and hard, bright green eyes that looked through everything. To be honest, he unnerved me, but I think that is because he is unpredictable. I have never been able to know his hand.

I am here for a peace conference that Odin Allfather had requested, and the King's advisor suggested that he should go to Asgard to negotiate, at least for a short time. Negotiations to stop the war would improve his popularity with his people and lift his already flagging empire. But since there are assassins on all sides, his best team would protect him on enemy territory, and he was looking for a personal protections squad to protect him every time he left his castle in Manhattan. With any luck, my team will get the job.

I wore my official dress uniform, for I was to be appearing with him in public. My uniform was lightweight carbon fiber body armor protecting my chest arms and legs. I had calf high combat boots in case I had to leap into action and a steel plated helmet in case I had to head butt someone. However, there is a piece of my uniform that was not practical at all; the long, green cape that draped over my left shoulder which brushed the floor and I kept stepping on.

"You are quite uncoordinated," the King noticed.

"Permission to speak freely, my King?" I asked my King, seeking to be as polite as possible so I did not incur his wrath.

He looked at me as if I was a Plebian and he was about to do me a great favor before stepping over me, "Permission granted, with a due sense of foreboding and dread."

I smiled at that remark, "I am very coordinated at the times where it is important," he looked at me almost as if I was not supposed to know that; "Besides, this cape is far too Arthurian for my tastes."

His icy smile widened slightly and his eyes laughed at me and burned through me at the same time. It was like what I had told him was the funniest thing in the nine realms, and I decided that it would be in my best interest to remain silent.

Two Asgardian guards opened the doors of the Great Hall and allowed us to enter the main hall. I kept a close eye on them. They were clad in Asgardian armor and wore yellow capes draped across their right shoulders. They bore spears in their left hands and wore simple helmets of an Asgardian metal which resembled copper. The sides and back of their necks were covered, but the front of their necks and their chins were exposed. Despite the padding on their shins, their knees could easily be damaged to trip them up if need be. They were designed for an upfront assault with a sword, not for hand to hand defense with any sort of improvised weapon.

I stayed silent and watchful as I entered the golden inlayed wooden doors behind my king. The Hall was massive, but strangely deserted. Columns lined the main thoroughfare through the room which led up to a golden throne. On top was seated an old man with a long beard wearing grand robes. I could only assume by his holier than thou stature and seating on the throne as well as the golden adornments including pointy hat, he was the Allfather. Halfway up the stairs stood a tall, red-caped man in metal armor scales, Thor, I assumed, and three quarters up was a red haired woman with a friendly face. She was dressed in blue, herself with her own breastplate. She seemed pretty harmless, but I learned young that because something looked harmless it didn't mean that it was. She looked like she was disappointed, and I could understand her.

I know what had happened in the immediate aftermath of the war of Midgard. Thor went home after Loki had taken over Earth, and taken Jane Foster and Darcy Lewis with him in order to keep his girl and his friend safe from war. Eric Selvig was still missing, and it was only presumed that Thor was still looking for him. He was the sole survivor of the Avengers, and it was clear to see that he hated his baby brother very much. Thor had the strength of an elephant an a rage beyond measure, but the way he had taken those he cared for out of danger showed her that he wanted something more, peace.

And that left us with Odin. He was an old man even by Asgardian standards, and he looked very tired, but it seemed that he would only allow Thor to succeed after a treaty had been brokered or the war had been won. He seemed like a very stubborn old goat, and considering the past wars that he had been involved in, he fought to win. The fact that he had called them to this conference was one thing, but if he intended to follow through with it was another. He was a wily old man, and I knew that he wouldn't hesitate to fight dirty if he had to. The spark behind his blue eyes disturbed me most, a mixture between insanity, rage and cold indifference. Considering the men out the front had to obey his orders, he was the one to watch. The narrowing of his remaining eye as her king approached showed me a hatred that had been burning for quite some time, but yet a stronger love and a hint of pride. Odin sure had mixed feelings about his son.

King Loki strode across to the throne confidently and stopped at the bottom of the steps. I was not far behind him, and I kept a close eye on exactly where he was in the room. He stood between two sets of pylons; a very poorly defensible position for up to eight enemies could attack him from the east, south, north and west. I kept my eyes and ears open, except I tried not to take notice of their words, only sounds of people moving, of weapons and of the rustling of the capes that everybody seemed to wear.

"Hello Mother," he said to the woman cheekily, "Are you proud?"

"Loki," she sighed. It seemed to me that she was more disappointed in her son than angry. For all his talents, he chose to use them to conquer worlds, and she did not teach him to do this. I think that the main principles of sorcery are pretty similar to those of karate, that it is to be used for self-defense only, and its main purpose is to strengthen your body and mind. The main point is that sorcery should not be used for destruction, and that her boy had defiled the art of sorcery, perverted it.

"What happened to you?" she asked him, confirming my suspicions. She was not the type of person to hurt him, I believe, but one of those more likely to use her words to convince him of his own wrongs. Thor was silent, which I had not expected, and that worried me greatly. It seemed that he had nothing he wished to say to his brother whom he viewed as a traitor.

"I have reached my potential," King Loki said simply, "I am the king that I was always meant to be."

I studied Thor's face as he scowled deeply at his brother and his otherwise animated face became stiff and hard. He looked although he wanted to speak, but he had locked his own jaw so he would not say anything too rash that may compromise the peace. I could only figure that the boys may have once been close, but since then, Thor had become disgusted with his brother. He turned his back and strode away out of the hall without a single word.

"Thor," his mother followed, perhaps to comfort her only 'worthy' son. I watched them leave in an air of disgust and a morose sadness on seeing how far Loki had sunk, at least in their opinion. I had to feel sorry for them in a way. They had to sit and watch him destroy worlds, and could do nothing. I had been out on the front lines and watched myself commit atrocities for the sake of a pointless war which would last another thousand years and a man who threw lives away like so much garbage. We were equal in a way.

I pushed a curl away from my left ear and touched my radio earpiece, "Kat, keep an eye on grande rosso and Morgana," I checked my watch and looked up again, "Nightcrawler, keep an eye on those clowns by the door."

"I have an angle," Kat whispered in my ear, "I can also see Red and Morgana."

"I see them too. They are heading east," Kurt whispered to me, "you want me to shadow them?"

"Night, don't abandon your post, Kat, shadow them," I told them simply. I was aware of Odin staring at me as if I was some sort of freak, and of course I was, but that was beside the point, "keep me posted."

"Who is the wench?"

I scowled at Odin. That made me immediately hate him, and I was not the only one. I saw my King's smile slip into a deep scowl at the king of Asgard. I couldn't help but to match this scowl and I balled my right fist slightly as I often did to remain calm.

"This wench, as you call her, is the Capo of my personal guard," Loki snapped at Odin, "she has spilled more Asgardian blood than even you, Odin, which is quite an achievement."

Odin's face twisted into a scowl. I had to smile at that blatant show of disrespect, but I refrained from saying anything. King Loki was often very hard on people who spoke to him out of turn, and I did not want to be on the other side of his spear. The king had just gained a few more ball points in my opinion. I fidgeted with my cape a little more, letting the simple cotton scratch at my fingertips and relax my nerves somewhat. I continued to scan the room.

Very high ceilings, a human could walk in here and believe that it had been made by giants. One had to rappel down a column to get down here, and she couldn't see any landings that they could come down from. Fortunately, Lars had it covered. The columns were both detrimental and helpful for simple defense. Their enemies could hide behind the columns in mass, but could be used by them as defensive positions. I don't like the terrain either. Flat terrain, mostly with a single ascending staircase at the end, the one with the throne on it, and I couldn't see any other exits other than the one that we had just entered, and that alarmed me a little, so I decided to think of it as only one entrance.

"Dismiss your guard, Loki, I wish to speak with you privately," Odin commanded, and I turned all my attention back to him. Something told me that if he wasn't planning something, he knew what was going down; after all, he could see at least some of the future.

"Pierce stays with me," he told Odin sharply, "and I am your equal, you shall refer to me as King Loki of Midgard."

"You only my equal in rank!"

I rolled my eyes, but otherwise I did nothing. I just stood still with my arms by my sides, relaxed but ready. So much for a peace conference, I thought to myself, and I wished that I could get away with saying it out loud. I couldn't get away with it of course, but I wished for it more than ever.

"You are correct," King Loki replied, "I am greater than you."

"Dismiss her," Odin commanded again.

"Permission to speak, Sire?" I asked. It cut the tension a little , and all eyes fell upon me.

"Granted," my king said simply, "don't do anything stupid," he whispered to me hoarsely.

"My king is my charge, Allfather, I am bound by honor to defend" I addressed Odin this time, "If you had entered into our territory for this conference, would you dismiss your Warriors Three? Is it too much to ask that my king should have one personal guard whilst you, in his situation, would have three?"

Odin narrowed his eyes at me, "You never said that she was clever."

Loki wore a sly smile as he looked up at Odin, "I only employ the best," he said smugly, "now, shall we discuss the terms of your surrender?"

I had to smile at my king's crassness, and I felt good about that backhanded compliment. I knew that in this job, I would never receive a kinder word. Either way, I still felt uncomfortable around Odin, and even more about the Queen of Asgard. I had no idea why, but she made me feel strange.

The Queen reentered the room, and I had that strange feeling again. I backed away from my king and tapped my earpiece, "do you still have eyes on Morgana?"

"Yes, Fraulein Pierce," Kurt told her, "she is still with Rosso."

"Is she acting suspiciously in any way?"

"Negative," he told her simply, "she is simply speaking to her son."

"Copy that Night, out."

I wasn't listening to the kings speak, I focused on the Queen. There was a strange smell that she couldn't quite identify, almost like sauerkraut, but Kurt was heading east, following Big Red and another Queen of Asgard. Before when Frigga was in the room, there was no smell, so this queen had to be an imposter. I did not want to interrupt Loki and Odin, for they seemed too engrossed in their verbal slap fight to be concerned. Instead, I approached Frigga who stood with her back against a pylon on the top of the staircase.

"My greetings to you," I said to her simply. Loki and Odin stopped speaking and looked at me.

"Pierce," Loki snapped at me, "get back here this instant."

"How dare you, Mortal?"

"The gig is up."

That was when she began to hiss, and her hiss called in the guards, and I had to wonder, was this normal Asgardian behavior?