None of the men particularly liked being stationed in the antarctic wastes. Frostbite was no different; as one of a handful of metahumans for whom the frigid temperatures were a non-issue, she had been assigned here for years; eventually becoming the the commander of the squad of elite troops here to defend the research base from... seemingly nothing.
There had been one exciting moment, eight years before, when a heavily mutated Krill the size of a doberman had emerged and swarmed the continent with its progeny, forcing the various bases to struggle to defend themselves. It had been a few exciting weeks, and the creatures hadn't just been incredibly numerous, and dangerous, but delicious; she had almost been sad that with each generation, more of the mutants had been sterile; so that after an initial population explosion, the creatures had died out on their own fairly swiftly.
She could reshape ice at will; and her own body could, somehow, continue functioning all the way down to absolute zero if it had to. Here in Antartica, it made her a powerhouse. The rest of the team came and went; but six months a year, she was down here; the DMA had a handful of vampire-like metahumans who couldn't handle daylight, and just like her, they worked a six-month on, six-month off shift; amusingly enough, they mostly just went right to the north pole when they left, only spending a relatively small part of the year dealing with a normal day-night cycle.
She made a strange sight; a tall, powerfully built african-american woman wearing... black shorts, a tank-top, and boots. Standing atop a hill in antartica, seemingly perfectly comfortable as she surveyed the base. Would the Jotun come here? Would she get another chance to shine? Or was she going to be stuck down here for the whole war, protecting a tiny number of civilians while the aliens rampaged elsewhere?
She blinked. Her earpiece was going off. She'd almost missed it over the wind. "Control, this is Frostbite."
"Frostbite, we have incoming. One of the big alien ships is on the way down, and will be here in about six minutes. No time to evacuate. That thing is gonna hold hundreds of Jotun, and have enough firepower to wipe us out. Any ideas?"
She smiled. "Just a few. Have our troops arm up and get ready... and have Matchstick bring me my armor up on the hill."
"Bring it there? Why? Aren't you coming in?"
"Not yet. Have a little housekeeping to do."
***
Makath's Assault Ship was substantially worse for wear. The patches they'd put over the massive Lance hole running through her had partially melted during the descent; and the ship had suffered hundreds, maybe thousands, of tiny cracks and ruptures due to the failures of spot repairs, or impact issues they hadn't found until the pressures of gravity and atmosphere were pulling on her. She could fly; albeit slowly; but if she tried to reach orbit again, she would fall apart. They would need to land, and make extensive repairs, before they could move at full speed. The humans were using technology based on that of the Jotun; perhaps
When the warship settled in, hovering just a hundred meters over the arctic ice, Makath frowned at his sensors. The map they'd been given an hour ago had shown a human base at this position; some sort of scientific facility. All he could see here was... ice. A pleasant enough place; far more comfortable for a Jotun than most of this too-hot, too-heavy ball of death.
Either the humans had some form of advanced stealth technology, however, or this was just... ice. At least dozens of meters thick. There were signs of previous settlement here; a few vehicles he could spot on the scanners, even tracks. But.... no people.
He frowned. "Deploy the troops. Investigate thoroughly. We want to make sure we have this continent to ourselves before we start using it as a base of operations."
His troop commander nodded; and filed down to the drop deck, where the light attack craft and soldiers waited, primed and ready to go hunting some of the monkeys that had so savaged the fleet in space. Soon they would witness firsthand the might of the Jotun.
***
Sergeant Skinner rubbed his forehead. "Look. Frostbite. I get it. You think you can handle them. You control ice, you can melt it, freeze it, shape it.. its great. Amazing. But you weren't there for the last war. You go out on your own, you're dead. And fast. We need to draw them in to an ambush. You can shape tunnels, make hills, pit traps.. with some patience and effort, you can turn this whole region into a perfect Jotun graveyard."
Frostbite rubbed her forehead. "Look, old man. I get it. They're big bugs, strong, fast, big guns. Love the cold, slowed down because earth is too heavy for them. We've all read the files. We aren't trying to shoot down power armor with AK-47s here. You and your boys can duck and cover and do all this ambush stuff. As soon as they land, I'm gonna make them all regret they were ever... are these things born or hatched?"
The sergeant shook his head. "Hatched. They put you in charge. I'll give you that. If you insist on going out there and meeting them in the open, that's your prerogative. A terrible waste of a good soldier and the potential you bring to this operation, but you can do that. But... yes. We'll be laying mines and creating a series of fallback positions to draw them away from the base. If your handiwork holds, we might just be able to keep the scientists safe until backup arrives... or they decide to nuke the place. Whichever happens first."
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
She rolled her eyes. "Fine, fine. You back off. After I wipe out the ones on the ground, I'll call you up to help me capture the ship. She looks like she's landing... and she's damaged. I bet I can just smash my way in through that big hole on the side." She was, at least, wearing body-armor now rather than a tank-top; but as the soldiers backed away, moving down a small gap in the rocks to start preparing their ambush, she simply dived down into the ice; reshaping it around herself, forming a massive armored suit of chunks of cracking, crumbling ice, constantly remelting and reshaping itself. She could make it more like a solid, humanoid shape; but then it would need to be made out of slush. Not the most protective form.
Skinner watched her go as he settled an AP mine beneath a mass of gravel and slush. Hopefully she'd survive long enough to realize her mistake. Probably none of them would, though.
***
Jotun commando Heralt took a deep breath as she stepped out onto the ice. The air here was actually mildly chiled, by Jotun standards; and according to the data, it actually got cold sometimes! If it weren't destined to be pulp for the Imperial grinder, she'd want to build a nice vacation home here; this was prime egg-laying territory!
As the rest of her squad followed her out; mostly smaller, subservient males who knew their place when it came to ground combat, she swept her sensors across the area; immediately picking up... a wide variety of strange inconsistencies. Something warm had been here, not long ago, and despite the massive depth of it, this ice was... pristine. Perfectly formed, clearly artificial.
She studied the ground closely, one of the Attack Craft; what the humans might call a Hovertank; floating overhead, expanding her sensor perimeter. It alerted almost immediately; something was incoming. Whatever it was had no heat signature; but it was there. Big. And moving.
When what appeared to be a giant snow-man suddenly emerged from the earth, she was amused at first; raising her hand beamer, she swept a wave of coherent light across the structure; and most of it flash-vaporized in an instant. She could just barely make out a surprised human inside before it sank into the ice beneath their feet... and a massive spike of ice emerged from the ground.
Heralt herself easily sidestepped it; the human reflexes were just as slow as their training predicted; but the AC wasn't so swift; the massive spike slammed directly into the vehicle's motors and sent it flying off to slam into a nearby ice-wall, before coming down in a barely-controlled landing; even as Heralt and her troopers began coordinated fire; sweeping the ice beneath them at any sign of movement.
More of the ice-spikes kept emerging; one of her troopers was actually caught by a spike, and while not badly hurt, sent flying; but while the area was becoming uncomfortably hot and steamy, they were starting to dig massive furrows into the ice; which was starting to collapse, forming more of a rough heap of ice chunks rather than a single, smooth, layer.
After about thirty seconds of dodging and weaving, Heralt tired of it; she didn't want to lose any of her people to such a trivial threat as some sort of ice monster. A quick signal to the nearby ship, and her men and women simply leapt out of the way in a single coordinated movement; as a brilliant beam of blue-white energy pierced the snow and ice. The air was filled with steam; mostly white.. but a puff of red as well.
Frostbite's last thoughts were a curious study of the strange movements the Jotun had made from what she could see through the ice; just why they had leapt aside like that when she hadn't been attacking. She didn't even see the beam that ended her life.
***
Sergeant Skinner watched much of the encounter from his handheld as his people were planting bombs in the ice and rock. The older man had a moment of hope when the AC had been skewered by a rock; but it had been dashed when he saw the all-too-familiar uncannily fast movements of the Jotun avoiding the incoming attacks. They couldn't dodge bullets; but their reflexes and speed were substantially better than any unaugmented human.
The camera atop the ridgeline went out with a flash of light; and he could hear the boom, and see the cloud of steam over the hilltops without need of any equipment.
During the first invasion, he'd seen battles where hundreds or even thousands of humans had died taking down a single Jotun; and simply having better guns wouldn't be enough to make up all of that difference. Plenty of these newer, younger meta-humans who hadn't been old enough to fight the first invasion... would either have a rude awakening, or just be dead.
***
Valkyrie stared down the mountain at the valley below. Once, there had been homes there. Peaceful villages. Farms. It was a vibrant, green place, the sort that gave her serious thoughts about leaving her desert home and not looking back.
Now... it was gone. Whatever Odin had put into place to protect this mountaintop, and her array of Neutronium-tipped throwing weapons made for their anti-orbital work, it had done the job; it was like a perfect circle of intact rock with patches of grass, and the concrete and metal platform built to support the 'Launch platform'. All around her in every direction, the uppermost layer of rock was actually steaming hot; some patches actually slightly molten.
Some homes; mostly older, stone buildings with modern renovations simply overlaid onto them; were mostly intact. She could see the flash-burned remnants of skeletal figures on those walls which still stood. This was... the most horrific event she'd ever witnessed in her life.
Odin, for his part, was holding what appeared to be a simple bone horn of massive size, carved with a variety of runes... and sitting on a rock. He... seemed to be weeping, with one of his golden-armored... well, she was about to call the woman a floozy, but that wouldn't even be slightly fair. Marta was, like all of the Valkyries, a badass in her own right. Marta had a hand on his shoulder, whispering something consoling to him...
Valkyrie frowned. This was wrong. Apollo had said he'd worked for years, as the time of the Jotun's arrival neared, to make sure no single man could launch such an assault. Had Apollo failed, or had humanity been betrayed? Despite knowing how much effort the tiny man had put into preventing this very thing from happening, after he'd sworn that he had it under control, the nukes were just going to be used against the Jotun...
She might very well crush him herself if she had him on the spot right now.