[center][img]http://i.imgur.com/FY5rjft.png?1[/img]

[color=gold][h3]Scylla and Charybdis[/h3][/color][/center]

Shoals of Trench flesh rippers, eager to sink sharp little teeth into unprotected Atlantean flesh.  Hordes of Tritonis' screamers, mad as hell and baying for blood.  Organised Lemurian Cohorts, a slow and unstoppable juggernaut of martial might that promised doom to their enemies.  Parademons from fiery hell-worlds, self-declared God's, monomaniacal would be conquerors, alien invaders, petty crooks, highly trained mercenaries, undead sorcerers, corrupt business officials, and on one noteworthy occasion an extremely irate ex-girlfriend.  Arthur Curry had faced them all, and conquered on every occasion.  It was a source of no small measure of pride to him in fact, that his name was quite possibly the most feared in all the Seven Kingdoms of Atlantis, that when Atlantean warriors sat in their circles at night to eat their supper they all told stories of [i]'The Golden One's'[/i] achievements, or that when the people of earth ranked their greatest heroes his name regularly featured among them (Or at least the title 'Aquaman' did, but Arthur chose to ignore that.)  

He would have quite happily given up all that hard one, grudging respect from both the bottom and surface-dwellers at that very moment though, if only to escape his current unenviable task; escorting Mera of Xebel, his newest - and quite possibly to date greatest – rival, towards her destiny.  

Becoming his brothers bride.

When Arthur had first been handed this job he had thought to himself lucky.  A mission that didn't involve him risking life and limb fighting some soulless monster of the deeps?  Fantastic!  Just carting some spoiled rich girl from one cushy palace to a slightly different cushy palace?  Easy, just load her into the back of the reef-raider, hit the cruise control, then put his feet up and relax. It was gonna be the first thing resembling a holiday he'd had in almost four years!  He shoulda realized at the time it was too good to be true, that there was a reason no body wanted this gig.  After all, why else would Poesdonis send it's resident dogsbody to fetch the princess of Xebel, if not because every slopey-shouldered noble with a lick of influence, surely better suited for such a delicate diplomatic task than a bruiser like him, knew better than to take the damn job on!

Ever since he had collected her from her father Nereus in Xebel - and tense meeting in itself, considering that Arthur had disfigured him years ago in a duel - she had been nothing but hassle.  Whatever pain Nereus might have felt since losing to Arthur's hands was nothing compared to the constant headache caused by Mera's constant complaints, criticism's and cutting barbs.  It seemed she couldn't even look at Arthur without spitting venom.  At first he had thought it was just her pre-wedding nerves, perhaps a frightened girls way of dealing with the fact that in a few short weeks she would be marrying a man she had never before met, purely to strengthen the links between two kingdoms that liked nothing better than to declare war on each other.  Now though, now he wasn't so sure.  

Now he just reckoned it was because she was a bitch.

The sliding doors behind him opened with a whoosh, the fragile peace Arthur had in the cockpit in danger of disappearing.  Luckily it wasn't Mera come to berate him for some new infraction, instead it was Vulko.  The old Scholar had joined Arthur in his task on the pretence that he desired a break from hectic life in the capital, though the blonde Atlantean suspected that the truth was that Vulko's divisive personality had angered the wrong noble, and he was merely making himself scarce while the heat died down.  Never one to rest on his laurels, the old advisor had set right to the task of arguing the odds with the Princess of Xebel whenever the opportunity presented itself.  No subject was too big or too small for that pair, and it seemed that Orm Ap Marius' inherent dislike for the Scholar was a trait his bride-to-be passionately shared.  Not that Arthur minded.  If she was screaming at Vulko then she wasn't screaming at him.

Vulko looked flustered, heavy black brows arched in a furious frown, mouth clenched in a grim line.  The doors had barely whispered shut behind him before he was getting down to bitching.

“That fool of a woman, she is infuriating in the extreme!” He said, throwing himself into the seat next to Arthur.

[color=Gold]“You don't say?”[/color] Replied the Prince, his sarcasm a touch too mild because the Scholar didn't notice it.  That or he chose to ignore it and forge on anyway. 

“I do say! I do indeed!  She vexes me at every opportunity.  If I say up, she immediately set's her self to not just saying down, but left, right, sideways and backwards too.  Anything, as long as it runs contrary to whatever I have said!” Vulko had leapt back up from his seat, his face going from a deep crimson to a deeper violet, Arthur half wondering if the older man was mid-heart attack.

[color=gold]“What'ya wanting me to say Vulko?  She does the same thing to me, or she did leastways, till I realized the trick was to ignore her.  I reckon she only does it for the rise she gets outta us.  No rise, no fun.  No fun, and what's the point?”[/color]  

“So your advice, as roundabout and littered with grammatical errors as ever, is to take the high road?”

[color=gold]“Pretty much.”[/color]

Vulko seemed to think about it for a moment, before scoffing loudly.

“Hardly a suitable option for one such as myself!  I mean, really, I have tutored some of the greatest statesmen and orators our fine city has ever borne witness too!  For one such as I to cede an argument to one such as her, well it's preposterous! Incredulous even! It would be like a warrior of your calibre submitting to a child armed with a stuffed toy!  I shan't, nay, I can't do it!”   

Arthur chuckled softly.  The old bullshit merchant always did have a knack for making him laugh, even if it was rarely intentional.

[color=gold]"You're a glutton for punishment Vulko, and that's all there is to it."[/color]  

A light on the control panel began to flash before Vulko could answer, a sharp beeping echoing throughout the craft.  Arthur sat up, eye's darting across the ship readouts, his good humor evaporating faster than a glass of water left in the desert sun.  Seeing exactly what he had prayed he wouldn't, Arthur moaned a curse and hit the emergency stop.  The Reef Raider cut power immediately, lights dimming before dying completely while the quick-engine stop kicked in, the vessel going dead in the water.  Arthur hit a few more buttons before switching his attention to the bay windows in front of him, eyes searching the inky darkness of the water.  

"Orin. . . " Vulko edged, but the Prince shushed him with a glare.  The two sat in tense silence, Arthur's gaze alternating between the control panels until the doors behind them opened with the same whispered whoosh that they had opened with earlier.  Only this time it sounded a hell of a lot louder, like anyone swimming ten miles away could hear those doors echoing open.  And if they didn't hear the doors open, then they'd sure hear the one who opened them.

"What is the meaning of this?  I demand to know why we have stopped!" Princess Mera breezed in, all haughty arrogance and spoilt ignorance.  Arthur spun on her, fixing her with the same intense glare he had unleashed on Vulko.

[color=gold]"Quiet!"[/color] He hissed, before returning his attention to the window.  Mera, unused to being spoken to in such a fashion, or dismissed so lightly, was momentarily stunned into silence.  Her face fell slack with shock and she took a faltering backstep, as if struck.  Her amazement didn't last long, mores the pity, before her natural sense of outrage took hold.  She surged forward, fury building up as she prepared to give the Champion of Poseidonis a tongue lashing so severe that Atlantean's would speak of it in hushed tones for generations to come.

"Now see here. . . "

[color=gold][b]"Mera!  Shut your mouth, or so help me God I'll shut it for you!"[/b][/color] Spit flew from Arthur's mouth as he snarled at the Xebel princess.  None present were left in any doubt whether the blonde meant to back up his threat or not.  Mera fell silent, frown so deep it looked like she was trying to crack her face in half, but at least she was silent.  The Prince once more returned his attention to the seas, and this time he wasn't interrupted.  

Shapes began to emerge from the dark water in front of them, indistinct blurs in the distance slowly coalascending into almost man shaped figures.  Lot's of figures.

[color=gold]"Damn. . . "[/color] Arthur muttered under his breath, getting slowly up from his seat.  

"What are those. . . things?" Said Mera, voice full of awe as she approached the window for a closer look.  

"The Trench." Whispered Vulko, the old Scholar's cheeks a pale white, his pupils wide and darting.  The Trench, terrors of the sea, nothing but teeth, and claws, and all consuming hunger.  They came from the deep, dark places of the world, plaguing the Seven Kingdoms, hordes of the creatures descending like a storm upon unprepared settlements and travelers, leaving nothing but bones in their wake.  There was no talking to the Trench, no bargaining or diplomacy.  You either killed them or died, because once they got your scent they never gave up the hunt.  

"Do you think they've seen us?" said Mera, face up against the window. Suddenly there was a crash like thunder, the princess throwing herself back from the window with a high-pitched shriek.  Against the window was pressed a bulbous, sick-blue skinned head, pitch black eyes staring intently into the cock pit as it worked it's overly toothy maw against the glass, trying futilely to bite it's way in.  Arthur, standing in front of a weapons cabinet, glanced over his shoulder at the beast. 

[color=gold]"Yeah.  I reckon they've seen us."[/color]