Anselm listened to Mallory talk from her chair at the back of the bridge and smiled.

“It's a good speech, sir. ” She swung around in her chair, massaging her eye sockets with the palm of each hand.

“Why don’t we go and get some fresh air? Let Wodan handle things for a while. I could do with stretching my legs, and they could use some more manpower out there.” Anselm stretched her arms and stood up, glancing back to the exterior camera feeds. Their long haired Norwegian musicians had sidled up to the impromptu Mythadian bands with cups of mead in hand. She watched with amusement as they attempted to join in with percussion, tapping forks against their cups and slapping metal crates.