The Ultimate Vampire Resource and Directory

Chapter Three: the passed is seldom Past


Tor Downes sat on the edge of his bunk, surrounded by photographs of those he had known back when and then, tears forming in his deep green eyes.

He was a big man, his dark skin covered in a sheen of sweat, a piece of paper crumpled 'tween his fingers.

His past had been rapt, by the events that led to him being on the Heracle.

He had been a terraformer on one of the new colony worlds, until the day the invaders arrived.

They had swept into being all-at-once, a vast armada of ships appearing through a vast elliptical porthole in the sky, their weaponry devastating to the burgeoning colony.

Then as people had run back and forth screaming, he had watched with half-slit eyes, as he lain on the ground concussed, after being struck on the head by a piece of rock.

Tor had watched as people had erupted in a shower of flesh, bone and blood, as energy beams tore at them, reducing the township to dust, that floated on the winds.

Now he weeps with resignation, recalling the families who had had died that day and, the memories of those lives lost.

He sighed, then threw the balled-up letter to the corner of the dorm-room, wondering once again if he would ever have the chance to see those he had known back there, or when his own time came, there would be nothing, but blackness.

The letter had told him little of that day, even though it's writer purported to have been there themselves, with his own recall telling him that there were falsehoods contained within, that given the chance, he would dispel.

Tor stood and stretched, then made his way down the centre of the long dorm-room, to the wash-room, where he eyed the showers.

It would be a wake-up call he needed, if he were to join the others, as the jovial slattern, they all knew and loved. So he dropped his trousers, walked in the shower and turned on the water.

As hot water struck his muscled torso, he recalled the day he had decided to fight the enemy and, as steam filled the washroom, he began to soap himself.

He smiled, as a naked figure passed through the steam and stepped toward him, a beautiful blonde with a statuesque figure and a face he recognised: and suddenly, the smile dropped as he noticed the blade in her hands and the scars, that covered her legs...

“You forgot me, didn't you?” She reminded him, in a voice he half- recognised.

And with tears pouring down his face, Tor had to admit he had.

Then as the water continued to fall, he fell to his knees head bowed and wept, waiting...

Chapter Two - Chase unto flame


Mikail Georgeson sighed. His alarm had rung ten minutes prior and, he knew that soon it would become shrill, if he didn't rise and cross the room, to turn the damn thing of: after all, that was why he placed it where he did. He had to rise and besides, "Another training day, so we're battle-ready." Sighing again, Mikail threw back the duvet and swung his legs round.
He slept nude, seeing no need for bedclothes, not with the heat of his small cabin.
A tall man with fair hair, he was considered by many to be handsome, yet a successful relationship eluded him, as he carried too much baggage.
And so, as usual, he slept alone.

Mikail was on his second tour of the outer fringes, as the crew of the Shield Corp Battleship Heracle took the small fighters and crew into the heart of battle.
He had little to return to on Earth, yet still he fought for the homeworld.
"After all," he told his reflection as he dressed, "we do this 'coz our cause is just."

He snapped a crisp salute, to his smartly dressed self, then burst out laughing.
"And people believe the drivel these tits put out?"

With the question left unanswered, Mikail left his cabin and began to walk the sterile looking corridor to the mess-room, where most of his group already waited, a simple breakfast before each man and woman.

Mikail scoured the large room, looking for Tor, or Freya his wingmen.

Finally he noticed Freya, sitting apart from everyone else, at a table well at the back.
'Yep,' he mused, 'she never seems to change.'
Freya was colony-born and tall, with a physique Mikail would be jealous of, if he wanted muscles where a man should have them. But, he didn't.

Mikail was a slim man, with a quick mind and, it was as a recognition of his mindset that Shield Corp had chosen him to be a wing-leader, not that he minded too much: the pay was better and, he got his own cabin.

And so, for almost the first time in his long-life, Mikail had accepted responsibilty, that normally he would shirk, given just half an opportunity.

“So here you are,” he stated the obvious, setting his tray of food down opposite hers and taking a seat.

“Yes, here I am.” Freya did not look up. Mikail had not expected her to.

“Is Tor about?” He quizzed.

“The ape? He'll be at the social looking for tail,” She scoffed at her own pun. Tor did have Simian D.N.A. And, if the remark had come from anyone else, both Mikail and Freya would have probably taken offence, for him.

As it was, none of the three took it lightly on the other and, so it had been since they had left the academy.

Briefly Freya looked up.

“Your cabin free after I've finished eating?” She asked in a non-committal manner. She was in dorms, like much of the crew and, occasionally would ask that same question. Usually it was Mikail she asked; but not always.

Taking a last bite from a green vegetable-roll, Mikail stood and made his way from the table, a smile on his face. He had left a spare door pass next to her tray as he did so. He did not look back. Freya asked rarely, but he was glad she still asked, him.

He needed to shower quickly and tidy his room, although he knew that it's state of disarray would matter not a jot to the dark-eyed redhead, he'd fancied since those early days. And, with a smile he thinks back to those days and the evening when she had seduced both he and Tor, in order then together.

That night had cemented the strangest of friendships that had persisted to this day and, their presence on the Heracles.

At his cabin Mikhail undressed and showered methodically, prior to heading back to the bed he had left less than half an hour prior. He was a little nervous as he turned the lights off, aware that Freya preferred to arrive quietly and find him waiting for her, like this: nervous, as she was so assertive; yet aroused for the very same reason.

Freya was his junior, out there in the dark of space, but here in the dark of his room their roles were reversed somewhat; that had become his role and in truth, he liked it.

Then after longer moments of muddled thoughts, he heard his door open and close and then, the sound of clothes being taken off.

“I'll want a hot shower afterwards,” Freya told him, as she cast her clothing and boots to the far side of the room.

“I know,” he conceded, “it's why I only used half my quota.”

“Good boy,” she cooed, pulling the sheets from him and running her nails across his chest.

“Now, we haven't got too long before training starts, so how do you want it?” Freya asked him, already knowing the answer.