Welcome all demigods, orcs, fake characters of my mind (don’t whine, Daniel), fairies, and regular crossover readers (who I’d suppose are the majority) to Part 5 of my Artemis Fowl: The Lord of the Olympians series!
When we left off, our heroes had made it to Camp Half-Blood. They found it under siege. They were saved by the Dolmoldian Rangers. But then a mysterious voice told Percy Jackson, son of Poseidon, that the strongest heroes could not defeat the voice’s speaker…
Chapter 1: The Hammer Strikes
This is Danielonus speaking. Yup, the crazy guy who likes to kill stuff. That’s me. Now, you’ll have to excuse me, I’ll be backtracking a lot.
Alright, so I get hit with an air tree (well, that’s what it felt like) and go flying 30 feet in the air. (Oh, pssh. I got stabbed in the thigh by a lance in an eastern campaign…long and gory story short, it came in from the side and went THROUGH.) Hit the ground. Swear at whatever imbecile is speaking in his wispy mystical voice, then continue swearing as I stand up. Look back… and see a massive horde of heavily armored warriors. (Confession: I’m not the most pure-mouthed of folks, as you might have guessed.
“Danielonus? Are you injured?”
“I’ve certainly suffered worse.”
“For God’s sake, brother, give me an clear answer.”
“You’ve always been so literal.”
“You cried at the news that Punxatawney Phil predicted that winter would end. Now, PLEASE GIVE ME AN ANSWER!”
“It’s always been so fun angering you. No, I’m not injured. I am a bit worried though, by what I see over the hill.”
He walked over and looked over the hill. Apparently troubled, he ran to tell the campers, but I halted him. “I’m the only one who knows these ones. Let me do the talking.”
I walked down the hill toward the battle weary campers, who apparently had fought off their orcish attackers.
“Perseus, you need to see this.”
“What?” came the annoyed reply. Someone was mad that I had used their real name. Well, excuse me, but in Dolmoldia it’s common practice.
“Across the hill. Attackers.”
This apparently had poor timing, because at that very second a great winged beast flew above, blowing fire into the campers ranks. It’s talons batted the weary heroes to the side, killing some immediately. My fellow Rangers aimed for it, and with several arrows in its underbelly, it fell to the ground.
“Well, that wasn’t too hard.” Percy commented.
The next word coming out of my mouth (involving dumb and a rear end) was drowned out by the sounds of thousands of drums and voices, all chanting the same thing: MELDOR! MELDOR!
I did the thing that came naturally: I grabbed my sword, glared at the enemy, and charged.
I saw several of the creatures-big, hairy creatures, each at least as tall as me. But I wasn’t about to back down. I put my sword through the first, grabbing his shield as he fell. Another one charged me, and I shield-bashed him away, grunting with the force of slamming the creature, who apparently hadn’t learned the wonders of locking the snack drawer and throwing away the key. (Not that I’ve ever done that….sorry, off topic.) The creatures were pouring down the hill now, in combat with the campers. And it was obvious which side was winning.
One of the creatures slashed his axe across a camper’s chest, throwing him into his comrades, dead. The arrows of the campers took down one or two, but they weren’t enough. Among the grass were the bodies of dead or dying campers, slain by their enemies axes and swords. This sight filled me with rage, but as I charged I was struck by something heavy and hard.
The creature and I went tumbling, him trying to bash my face in and me trying to stab him in his. Once we stopped, he attempted to strangle me with his bandolier. (Yes, you read right: bandolier. The same question of how he got one went through my brain at the same time.) I pulled out my short knife and stabbed him in the throat. Then he stopped strangling me and got busy dying. Shoving his dying weight and sheathing my knife. I looked to see what was happening.
It was desperate now. The campers were breaking, the creatures running after them and hacking them down. About forty went over to the section of buildings with torches. They set fire to every building, killing anyone inside and anyone outside defending them. Then the creatures turned and surrounded the remaining campers, who were forming into a ragged formation. I ran to them, taking up a bow from one of my fallen Dolmoldian comrades. (The rest had fled or taken refuge in the formation.) I prepared to fight to the death.
The creatures charged us. I and the rest of our forces braced, preparing for death.
Then the creatures stopped.
They all appeared to listen to an invisible earpiece, then, apparently having received their instructions, fled into the woods, not taking anything with them.
* * *
Most of the campers fell to the ground, exhausted or wounded. Some simply looked at the carnage around them, and fell to their knees. Bodies of creatures, campers, and Dolmoldians. My men, who had not taken part in most of the hand to hand fighting, immediately saw to getting the campers water and medical aid. Artemis, Percy and I surveyed the damage. Percy was stunned. “This is impossible! The magical borders would have kept them out…”
“Percy, I don’t think these are magical creatures.” I said as I examined the corpse of one of the creatures. It appeared to be able to shapeshift: how else could an army of it’s brothers have gone so unnoticed through the countryside?
“Then how did we kill some of them?” This question stumped me; I remained silent.
“It doesn’t make sense. Why would they strike here, only to abandon their attack?”
A moment of silence fell over our trio as we mulled over the problem. Then Artemis, with a concerned look on his face, gave his answer.
“What if they plan to strike elsewhere? Think of our predicament. We have been raided-‘hard and loud’ I might add- but our adversaries pull out at the last moment. This raid has crippled Camp Half-Blood. Yes, the camp can still function, albeit more of a refugee camp. But this will remove more of our forces. Now, less campers will be able to fight. Some our wounded. Some must tend to the wounded and cremate the dead. Even more will be needed to repair the camp. They have put this place-and its forces-out of action.”
After a moment of silence to let us comprehend the problem, Artemis continued. “Now, let us think of other places that must be put out of action. Olympus is out of the question: these creatures aren’t strong enough to face gods. Camp Jupiter, perhaps?”
“I don’t think so,” Percy responded. “They have been warned, and they’ve been building their legion. They should be able to defeat the monsters.”
“What if they attack Haven City?”
To my comment, Artemis had no response. He kept a thoughtful/worried expression on his face as he mulled over the possibility. “But Haven isn’t involved in the war, right?” Percy asked.
“Maybe not, Percy,” Artemis replied, “but if they did, they would be on our side. If these creatures are 100% percent mortal, (which they are) then fairy technology and armed forces would be invaluable to our war effort. Crippling their capital and Atlantis would put them out of commission.”
“Hold on a second.” Percy said as he ran for a camper, lying nearby and calling for help.
We all headed over to the fallen camper. I suddenly remembered him: as another had gone down, he had tried to drag them to safety. Apparently, this act of heroism was rewarded with a fatal wound.
“Pollux!” Percy yelled.
“Hello, Percy.” the boy said weakly. A bloody gash ran the length of his torso. Percy went to get some of his Mr. Super-Magical-Healing-Power-Food from his pack, but they boy stopped him. “Leave it. I’m dead anyway.”
Percy got a look of anger on his face as he realized his friend and comrade was beyond saving. He sat back, his features seeming etched in stone. “You,” the camper Pollux called out. Realizing he was speaking to me, I came forward. “Aye, ai selra bactra?”
“Haven City, whatever that means…..they’re going to attack it next. I overheard them speaking. You have to warn the citizens. You must…..save them.”
His speech was getting weaker now. He leaned back, trying to relax as he died. Suddenly, a dart shot out of nowhere and hit him in the neck. He made a slight choking sound, the his dead head hit the ground.
Enraged, I looked around and spotted the sniper in a tree nearby. I raised my hand, and with a grabbing motion the tree spontaneously burst into flame. With the “object” in my hand, I made a crushing motion, and the tree burst into a million fragments. “We heard him. We have to move out. Captain Short, do you have transportation?”
“Yes,” came the reply. “Do you have the troops needed to defeat this horde?” A question for which I had an answer.
“Actually, I think I can provide that.” I turned to my comm link. “First Cohort of Boar Legion. Deploy ASAP at my location.”
“Aye, sir.” came another reply. “Deploying immediately.”
I looked at my comrades, who looked surprised at this turn of events. I grinned internally. If they were unimpressed by me now, they were about to get impressed. I looked to the sky. A group of gunship-like craft touched down. The doors opened, and out stepped DC-Joseph, my leading commander- and clone. He was black-haired, but that was the only difference between me and him. That also separated him from his comrades, all 20,000 of them. The 401st, 2nd, 403rd, and 4044th Elite Legions of the Eaortian Army are comprised of them. Now, of course, I only had one cohort, but it made little difference. They’re great marksmen, bright, good at improvisation, and great in melee. All inherited from their template: me, Danielonus the 4th. “Sir,” he began in my tones, “it would be helpful if you stepped aboard.”
“Of course, Commander.” My comrades and I stepped aboard. “Wait,” Percy began. “Where’s-”
“She went to help with the reconstruction,” came Holly’s reply. “She said that you’d understand.”
Apparently Percy did, as I heard nothing more from him. In this time I had gone and donned a full Eaortian infantry battle suit, which was a miracle of science. The 1st through 4th Elite Legions (mine) wore armor with distinctive black stripes; Joseph and I, being commanders, had armor entirely black. The armor itself could withstand small-arms laser fire, and was bullet, fire, water, and shrapnel-proof. On the leg section, the material was flexible and contained built-in high-(suppressant? Protection?) shock absorbers so that the troops would not suffer injury from falls. On the chest and neck there were armored pads that were invulnerable to low-powered bullets. On the arms, there was more flexible material. The head was nothing special, just a helmet with a reinforced clear HardGlas (basically an rock-hard clear glass) that displayed medical, tactical, and communication info. The gun was a modified RC-38 laser bolt assault rifle with a range of about 600 feet. It had an interchangeable parts system so that it could be a short-range rocket launcher, sniper rifle, or heavy machine gun when needed. In my wrist gauntlet there was a knife that would shoot out of a holster when I needed it, making it an effective melee weapon. The whole suit was designed for Elite Legionarres, but the weapon system was even more special: it was commando gear. I was, however, both a Commander AND an the leader of a Commando squad of four men, so I guess it wasn’t that great.
On with the story, though: my own descriptions are boring me. In full battle regalia, I marched out to the hull, where my comrades were standing silently. Joseph, who had also donned his helmet, sent me a message in the form of a helmtext: were they talking about not-so-wise-girl? This I responded to with and audible chuckle. My magic\godlike\genius comrades looked at me with suspicion, so I disguised my chuckle with a fake coughing fit.
For the greater part of the flight their was silence. I saw the occasional helmtext between legionarres, but other than that all I did was think. Mostly about the threat. And, more specifically, what I thought the threat was. I had an idea, but I was waiting for proof. After all, it was only an idea.
After about an hour of flight, the pilot’s voice came on the comm link. “Cohort,” he began, presumably telling the whole gunship squadron, “we’re approaching the target zone. ”
“You heard him, lads.” Joseph said. “Lock and load!” The next 10 seconds were filled with the sounds of overused metallic loading mechanism sounds. My cross-world friends got up and collected various weapons scattered about. Then I debriefed my troops. “Here is the status of our operation. We’re heading into territory under attack and unknown. We have limited air support, so you’ll have to make do. In the case that you need air support, call and it we’ll be given. Good luck, my identical friends-you’ll need it!”
This elicited nothing but a small, nervous chuckle from the men. Then we heard sounds of violence below, and the sounds of the THX-238 Falcon’s [the transport that Danielonus’s men were riding on] engines slowing down for a deployment. We felt the whole craft twist to the right, and we felt it land. Then the doors opened, and we deployed into the pyre that was Haven City.
Chapter 2: Operation Reconquista
Translated excerpt from the diary of Captain DC-Octavian of the 1st Cohort in the 401st Elite Legion. Date entry 6/1/13.
We exited the craft quickly, not a doubt in our minds what we needed to do. Sure, we had questions, but Danielonus himself had laid out our instructions. Therefore, we would follow them to the letter.
As soon as we got out, we saw the ruins of a once-mighty city. Fires burned all around, like a funeral pyre. Wounded and dead fairies laid on the ground, either crying in pain or completely silent. We saw the creatures, armed with explosives and guns assailing one central plaza. What remained of the LEP defenses had erected barricades and were defending from there. And they were fighting a losing battle. The enemy closed in from all around them, shooting down anyone unlucky enough to have inadequate cover. Or the countless number of refugees trying to run for cover into protection. Most of them never made it.
This gave us reason to push on. We saw little children lying dead in the streets, some battered horribly. Houses burned. We heard the terrified cries of the refugees, waiting to be killed. A peaceful city, now the site of a horrid massacre. Then Joseph stood one a pile of rubble, shaking his weapons and chanting the battle cry of Eaortia, which is sung in Mandalorian: the language of our ancestors. [will be translated]
Kandosii sa kar’ta, Vode an
Eaortia a’den mhi, Vode an
Bal kote, darasuum kote
Jorso’ran kando a tome
Sa ky’ram na tryacn kad, Vode an…
One indomitable heart, brothers all
We, the wrath of Eaortia, brothers all
And glory, eternal glory
We will bear its weight together
Forged like the saber in the fires of death, brothers all]
This invigorated our spirit, so much so that with angry hearts and angry cries we charged the enemy in fury. There were big differences between the brutes and us. We were trained to do this since birth, with live fire training courses where improvisation (call it cheating, if you wish) was graded.
For example, there was one exercise was a squad was plunged into a room full of holographic enemies, pumped out by a holographic projector. Many squads lost because of their rashness. Plunging into the room didn’t work: you all got shot eventually. Some took it too slowly, and got destroyed. Even more got pretty far, but then they failed when they realized their plan was falling apart. The way to do it was as follows: you had to find cover and assign to of your squadmates to stay, one to snipe and the other to suppress. While they were distracting the enemy, you and your partner would creep around to the main computer (not part of the exercise, as you would expect) and hack into the projector. You would shut it down, and then you were done. At least, that was the way my group did it; the others could have done it any other way. That was why it was so hard: the computer was trained to analyze how the others defeated it and work against it. They had to improvise their own way. Thus, 71 out of 100 squads brought into the exercise failed it. I was lucky enough not to.
Now, back to my account of this day’s events. We had live fire training, in which you could be seriously hurt. We knew how to bandage a wound to keep someone from bleeding to death. Our enemies weren’t so. They knew how to kill and hunt, but not truly how to fight. So we pressed on against them in offensive formation: all troops with rifles up, sights in front of their eyes, shooting any unlucky enemy. Danielonus lead the column, DC-Joseph following close behind him. At one point, we ran into trouble. Our troops marched onto a small road, normally. But as they marched, they ran over a series of improvised explosive devices. They were instantly engulfed by huge pillars of explosion smoke, and killed. The rest of us were ambushed by the enemies, which began firing into our columns. Unfortunately for them, we had been trained for this sort of scenario, and 200-odd grenades were uncapped, thrown, and detonated in the enemies’ ambush point. The rest fled, a wise decision: the buildings were weakened by fire and the explosions and toppled. We continued on, nearing the city center. We saw buildings with strange symbols labeling them, most likely Gnommish lettering. The building were not on fire this time, for the creatures were too busy fighting what the city’s defenders to loot. Aforementioned creatures were advancing towards the barricades, to little avail. However, slowly and surely, they were breaking the defenses. They all began to swarm the defenders as we spoke, striking them down. Everyone within the defenses would die.
But then we loaded our weapons, calmed ourselves, and charged. We began to shoot the attackers and engage them in close combat, as was our tactic. Supreme Commander Danielonus pulled out his sword, made of enchanted steel, and waded into his foes, cutting down any that got in his way. We all stood dumfounded as we watched this fearsome warrior engage the enemy. They themselves broke, except for a handful of extremely brazen ones. Danielonus charged them; we all expected them to die. But suddenly, a spike came out of nowhere and hit him in the arm. While he attempted to pluck it out, the lead creature came forth and hit him in the chest, then hit him over the head. The rest dragged his unconscious body away.
We all attempted to shoot them down, but a wave of the creatures came and attacked us. We had to defend ourselves, not our leader. We began to shoot down the creatures, thinning their numbers more and more. Eventually, they gave up. They ceased fighting, and began to flee to the city outskirts. We tried to catch the, but by the time we got to them they had been evacuated, along with Danielonus. Some of us certainly wanted to grieve for the taken commander, but we couldn’t; we had duties to do.
We began to rebuild. We helped clean up rubble, and helped construct refugee camps. We helped get supplies for said refugee camp, and, generally, became Marius’s mules for the rest of the day. At the end of it, we all returned to our own camp (yet another thing we had constructed) and settled in for a recharge. About 80 men ended up in the field hospital; thankfully, only 10 of the aforementioned men had serious wounds. (We had expected to have fewer wounded, considering that we were well-trained and the enemy were a bunch of mindless monsters.) As most of the troops settled down to sleep, we began to wonder silently what would happen to Danielonus. Others might’ve been worried. Me? I mulled it over for about a minute, then realized that he was Danielonus. He’s found himself in a lot worse situations, and, with a slight self-horrified thought at my callous disregard, I end the entry. Signing out.
Epilogue: Omega Squad
Artemis, Percy, Holly, and DC-Joseph sat around a planning table, situated ten yards out from the refugee camps. They had been treated to some nice hot rations from the THX-38 Falcon stores. Their need for food satisfied, they began planning a rescue attempt for Danielonus. “As you all know,” Artemis began, “Danielonus, our faithful ally, has been captured by these infernal beasts. As a prisoner of war, he will, most likely, be treated with a major degree of hostility. And seeing as he should not die if our war is to succeed, then we need to rescue him. I could come up with a plan, but said plan would most likely put many lives in danger. ” He paused to let the others comprehend this statement.
“As such, I need to know what resources our at my disposal, so that I can figure out the best way to handle this. I am not asking you to do so, but if you wish to be part of this rescue attempt then you must tell me so. ”
“As Danielonus’s close friend and clone, I shall participate.” Joseph responded first, not surprisingly.
“I’ll do whatever I can.” Percy also responded fairly quickly.
After a minute of silence, Holly chimed in. “Same here. If not for any other reason than the fact that he saved Haven.” This generated no small amount of surprise from Percy, who along with her delayed response had, in a discussion in the THX-38, learned that she did not appreciate Danielonus.
“We also have at least half the Eaortian army at our side, if Command learns of this.” Joseph said. “He’s the people’s hero, and a brilliant general.” ‘
“I don’t need an army, I need a select group of skilled individuals.” Artemis replied.
“Then use us.” Percy said.”I think we classify as skilled individuals.”
“Yes,” Joseph responded,”but we do not know each other. One of us doesn’t know his comrades. How they fight, how the respond to situations, their strengths and weaknesses. And not knowing these can be fatal in a hazardous insertion like this.”
“Yes. Do you have any elite special ops teams, Commander?” Artemis said.
“Yes. Us. ”
The reply came from behind Artemis. He looked around and saw the speaker, and his comrades. They were clad in black legionary armor, with extra protection and a T-shaped visor. On the black were colored patterns, different for each commando. The speaker had red, lightning bolt-shaped marks on his armor, the one on his right had orange horizontal stripes, and the one on his left was clad in simple vertical blue stripes. Their weapons were the same ones that Danielonus carried, plasma assault rifles with wrist knives. They carried small, sleek looking packs on their backs. Around their waists were grenades and assorted other gadgets. “And you are?” Joseph asked, suspicion in his voice.
“Omega Squad,” came the reply, “and we’re going to rescue our commander.”
* * *
Settle in for a long author’s note.
I apologize for the long time it took to get this out. I couldn’t think of anything at first, and by the time I thought up a plot, school was in full swing and I had very little time to write. When I attempted to write, I got pretty far- and then it was ACCIDENTALLY (don’t make stupid comments about this below) deleted by the admins as they were deleting spam. I brought it back, but accidentally published it, leading to confusion and making it hard to write. An admin (thank you, Amber Root!) fixed that, and I worked until I finished this. That all, coupled with procrastination and the fact that I’m trying to write my novel manuscript is a bad concoction. I also apologize for the possible poor quality of the ending paragraphs, seeing as they were written at 12 pm on Thursday the 13th. (See? Bad puns are an example of a tired mind.) But enough with the apologies; I hope you’ll forgive me, but they don’t sound sincere, even to me.
I’ve been thinking about James Patterson “Maximum Ride” series to my fanfic. Let me know what you think of this below. Without spoiling the plot of my fanfic too much, I can say that it would tie in well with the later parts of my story.
Yes, that was a “Star Wars” reference right before the battle chant. Confession: in my Eaortia lore, they exist in the Star Wars Universe, founded by the Mandalorians. I am neither a “Star Wars: The Clone Wars” TV show fan, nor am I going to include characters from Star Wars in the fanfic. (Unless you want me to: leave a response to this in the comments below.) If I do not include characters, there will just be some scattered references and mentionings of things in the Star Wars universe.
Another question: do you want me to write more 3rd-person POVs? Using those would make it easier for me to show the POVs of characters like Artemis Fowl, who are hard to write as in 1st person. Again, leave an answer in the comments.
Finally, I am going to change the title of this from its current one to “The Rift Between Spaces” (a time-space rift is what is causing the different worlds to merge.) The current title no longer fits the story. If you have used this name before, my apologies. In the summary it will still be called “Artemis Fowl: The Lord of the Olympians”, and that is how you will know that Part 6 of the tale is out.
Please leave the answers to my questions in the comment section, and any other concrit you can give. Hopefully,with summer on, I’ll be able to get Part 6 out fairly quickly. But if I am to do this, I will need feedback quickly. (And I need to reread MR…) Thank you for reading, and click the link next time for Part 6 of Artemis Fowl: Lord of the Olympians!