The Ultimate Vampire Resource and Directory

Chapter Three



“Landing a spaceship, no matter its size, is not a job for the faint-hearted…” the old spacer had told Timothy again, and again.



The young man thought of his captain’s words, as he sat on his bunk and drank his whiskey and drank from a bottle of whiskey, kept for ‘special occasions’.



Downing the amber liquid, he stood his belly warming.

“Well, I guess we’ll see if I can land this old ship, anywhere near as well as my captain could…” he muttered, walking toward the cockpit and the pilots seat.



“Orbit attained…” he noted from a console readout, “Computer, switch to manual…”



A light flashed and suddenly Summers had control of the starship.

“Stabalisers, fine…” he began the landing sequence, prior to planetfall.



“Or, was it trajectory? Either way… it’s fine.”



Friction was tearing at the cockpits integrity and, for a brief moment, Summers imagined that he might join his captain.



‘His Captain,’ Timothy mused, ‘What would he do?’ He stopped panicking and pulled hard on the joystick… hard.



Pulling the nose of the craft up, Summers levelled out the ship, then began its vertical descent. Finally powering down the twin main engines he swirled round in the pilots’ seat flicking at switches above his head; then turning back he pulled on a lever, to disengage the cargo.



The ship rose slowly on four telescopic legs, then the centre of the ship descended between the four legs. Once it had grounded the cargo pod had separated from the ship and the front opened, with a ramp extending out from the flooring.



Summers stood and made his way through to the store, where he boarded an airbike. A side-door opened and he powered up the machine and took it down to earth, near the cargo pod, noticing a figure walking toward the ship.



Dismounting the bike, Summers removed his glasses and mask, suddenly very aware of the dry heat, that caused sweat to pool beneath his arms and down his back within minutes.



The figure neared and Summers wiped dust away from his eyes, as the figure seemed to walk through a heat haze and he surprised to see that it was a slender woman of a pale skin colour, with striking red hair that cascaded down her back.



She carried a pulse rifle and wore a heavy backpack and little else, he noted with a tinge of embarrassment: navigation had not been his only weakness when younger; he was not good with women. Now Summers found himself standing at the foot of the ramp to the pod staring at an attractive young woman who wore as little clothing as needed, due to the heat, very brief black shorts and a strip of olive green material that covered breasts.



Summers crossed his arms and made an attempt at looking his grim self, but blushing cheeks were a distinct giveaway. The young woman grinned.



“I’m Cat,” she called on her approach.



“I’ve got your Fathers merchandise; do you have the fuel cells?” Summers responded.



“Well, I’d not be carrying this…” she indicated the backpack she carried, as she shrugged the shoulder straps with each hand, “…if I couldn’t answer to the affirmative, now would I?”



“True…” he muttered, trying badly not to stare at her shapely legs. It had been several years since he had female company and he had become quite tongue-tied.



“You know mister… you’re asking for trouble coming to a colony world dressed like that…” the flame-haired woman informed Timothy, as she set down the pack.



“Like what?” he enquired curiously.



“Well, put it this way, you’re wearing a uniform, worn by ‘them’. And with business on any colony worlds that sort of clothing could lead to a severe attack of death. Heck, arn’t you aware how ‘they’ treated us?” She asked in frustration.



Timothy was well aware of how the Corporates had treated colonies, having heard his captain’s stories of that time.



“So what do you suggest?” He asked.



“Dress for the climate for a start and, might I suggest you arm yourself? This is not the quietest of the colonies…” Cat told him in response.



Timothy thought a moment, then told her; “You check over the merchandise if you want, I’ll go get changed as you suggested. Thank you.”



He boarded the airbike before she could say anything and made his way back to the ship, to get changed.

Chapter Two



“You’re a week overdue,” she reminded him unnecessarily.



Timothy hardly needed the reminder. The journey to his prospective customer on the planet Devilmere had taken far longer than expected, due to a fuel leak, the last thing he had needed.



Yet, he had business in the township of Lockhart, with a local businessman of the same name, so made emergency repairs, then got on with the journey, much as his captain would have done.



But, he was polite in his response. After all, his captain would have been polite.

Yet… he was no Tolliver.



“My captain, Captain Jason Tolliver… well, he was killed a week ago, I apologise for the delay…”



There was a distinct cough, “I’m sorry… I’m sorry for your loss. It’s just… we’ve got a real problem with marauders and, we need that equipment… and, my Fathers gone to check the town boundaries and…”



“Easy miss, I’m here now…” Timothy assured her, “Alright Miss?”



“It’s Miss Lockhart, but please call me Cat?” the young woman who had opened comms informed him.



“Well Cat, all I want is some coordinates where I can land. Or if you’re real anxious to check on your cargo I can use the transmit…”



“You have transmat capabilities?” Cat asked curiously.

“You sound surprised Miss… er, Cat… why’s that?” He asked, noticing a digital readout tell him a transmission had been received.



“All outgoing signals are scanned first…” she told him.



“Wouldn’t matter Cat,” he told her, “this rust bucket is so old its systems probably wouldn’t recognise a modern virus, even if it tried…”



Timothy flipped a switch and input the fresh coordinates, “Okay Cat, got that… comms out…” He wanted to give an eta, but the ship formerly known as The Forest was temperamental, to say the very least.



So, Timothy had time to kill; a shave to have, boots to shine… or, perhaps a whiskey, while he waited…



And, he knew there was a good malt in the captain’s cabin, a place full of memories that he chose to rarely visit…

The Mantlepiece Worn





Chapter One



Summers now headed for the outer colonies, those deemed of little corporate value. Yet if he were to continue his journeying, he would need to refuel and, to do that he needed credits. Summers had two options, earn the credits, or barter.



He looked into the mirror at his unshaven face, then glanced down at his boots: they needed a polish and he needed a shave.



“And neither is likely to happen soon…” he snarled at his reflected self in the wall mirror, before leaving his cabin.



Navigation had not been one of Summers stronger subjects at flight school. That was why he had relied so heavily on his captain.



“Now, there was a man who knew his way around…” Summers mused aloud to the ship, as if it needed to be told.



Tolliver had been captain of the small starship, carrying freight, for almost twenty years, time enough to bank several lifetimes worth of experience.



Now young Summers was on his own and, he was feeling the loss, deeply.



He trudged through the short corridor to the main cabin, then beyond to the cockpit, where he sat, in the co-pilots seat of the old Roddenbury class starship and, Timothy Summers stared out the cockpit window at the starfield ahead…



There was a buyer for a cache of military grade munitions that had somehow not been sequestrated by taken the cities protectorate: and he assumed Detective Simone Knight had a hand in that omission.



“Now, there’s a lady with a story to tell,” he spoke aloud to himself, the ship and his late captain, Jason Tolliver.



“Well, if I’ve set the course right…” he checked settings on the ships console, again; “Then I figure I have two, maybe three hours to go…”