This is a remake of World So Cold, one of my older stories on another account. Anyway feel free to Review, bad good, it doesn't matter just give me some good input:D
Helena felt a strange sense of serenity as her dreams took her into a vast desert. The hot wind tousled through her hair and sent strange shivers up her body as it brushed against her skin. She honestly couldn't even tell if she was in her own body she could only see the vast dunes and dried up vegetation stretch for seemingly miles onto the horizon.
Sand blew up into the air and spun like a mini tornado. She watched it in fascination and stepped, feeling her bare feet sink into the surprisingly cool sand beneath the surface, towards it. Out of the column of dust a woman appeared. She wasn't a normal woman. Helena knew that instantly. The looks in her eyes were almost feral yet calm at the same time. She displayed a sense of wisdom and beauty beyond anything Helena had ever seen, and almost felt weak in her presence. The mystery woman was taller than her by a few inches from what she could tell. Her hair was the same shade of brown as hers and extended down her slender back in a braid. Flawless skin that glowed from the fiery light of the sun coated her muscles underneath; she was strong, and everything Helena wasn't
"Your time will come". The voice was like a thousand songs intermingled into one beautiful sound. She stepped up to Helena and extended her hand. Her ghostly fingers pushed into the flesh of her chest, "Soon my child". A white hot intensity enveloped my body as a silent scream ripped through her brain.
Helena gasped and made the mistake of lurching forward causing her head to smack into an ion gas pipe.
"Fuck", she muttered slapping a hand to the now bruised part of her forehead. How the hell could she have fallen asleep under the damn freighter? Damn rich customers offering to pay me double if I fixed their ship in 48 hours, she thought bitterly and rolled out from underneath it. She winced at her sore joints and cracked her neck side to side. Her tank top was spotted with bio gel and she wiped some of it that was on her hands onto her pants.
What a crazy dream.
They have been happening more often nowadays; long sleepless night filled with strange dreams of the same woman. Sometimes there were different scenes, different faces, but her presence, her spirit never changes. She was always there, watching her.
Shaking the scenes away from her vision she looked at her watch and almost regretted doing it. She had only two more hours to get this pile of junk working again. The young adult face palmed running her hands down her face slowly wishing she could wipe away the stress along with the grime that's collected on her skin.
Helena pulled out her communicator in a hurry almost flinging it across the room. She needed some espresso. "Lance where the hell are you? You were supposed to be here two hours ago!" Her agitated voice echoed throughout the semi empty garage, reminding her just how creepy it was to be here past dark.
The voice that cracked through her communicator didn't sound none too alive, "What? Who's this?"
She ran her hand down the side of her face again, "Damnit Lance are you drunk again? We have to have this done by midnight".
When his only reply was a barely audible 'hnnnng' she clicked off the line and chunked the phone across the room. Served her right for hiring a teenager, and now she was going to have to finish replacing the propulsion system on her own. She looked at her watch. 11:12. With some extra grit she could probably get it done by then, and if not those rich fuckers can just shove a thumb up their ass.
She pulled on her heavy gloves and started dragging all the proper parts over to the small skiff. Once she was finished placing them all in the right areas according to the order she was doing the replacing she walked over to the box that had all the papers in it. Filtering through all the old files of past customers ships she was searching for the schematic of the freighter that she shoved in here a few hours ago when a large, enclosed envelope dropped out.
Knitting her brows together she opened the envelope, leaning back against the tool shelf as she did so. Her eyes saddened once she got a good look. She thought she had lost this years ago, and all this time it's been in her customers tabs. It was a very old schematic she and her father, Rowland, once drew together. It was supposed to be the ship they were going to travel the galaxy in once they got enough money to build it. Her thumb absentmindedly caressed the fading edges of the document.
Just stop it, she hissed harshly to herself, he left years ago and he's not coming back. Biting her lower lip she shoved the paper back in the proper folder and continued shifting until she found what she was looking for. Rowland started this shop when she was just six years old. He started teaching her about mechanics at a very young age and by ten she was practically as much of an expert as he was. Since her mother died only days after giving birth to her she had to help her father support the family with the small business they started. 'R & H skiff shop' is what they named it. He homeschooled her and kept her away from trouble with hours of studying after work.
Helena glanced at the metal bracelet her father made for her out of their first customers hull for a moment before she rolled back under the skiff to start the replacements. He had left without so much as an explanation, and it was all so sudden. He told her that she was twenty years old now, and it was time for her to 'discover herself on her own'. Rowland had mentioned that he was a part of something that needed him dearly; that he was born to do a certain task that no other could do. He never said if he was coming back and when she asked he simply looked at her sadly and said he hoped so. She wondered at time if he was even still alive; maybe watching her every now and then.
She shook her head as she flicked on the hyper spanner. 'Discover herself?' she was still here doing the same old damn thing on the same old damn planet. What the hell could he mean by 'discover herself'? Maybe mother's death a long time ago had finally caught up to him. Maybe he went crazy.
She wanted to chuckle at that thought. If anyone went crazy it was her. She had to finish her last year of schooling in a public school before she could get her mechanics certification. Needless to say her attitude wasn't the best and it landed her in quite a few rough spots. Helena wasn't a fighter by heart. She knew nothing of how to defend herself, but when provoked she could throw a crazy right hook.
Fighting through the seductive whisper of sleep she managed to fix the hunk of tin on time. Covered head to toe in oil and other vehicular fluids she waited for the owners to arrive and take their skiff. They showed up a half an hour later and paid her in full and left just as quickly. At least I don't have to split it with the bratt.
She locked up her garage and drove to her apartment on her bike. Her apartment wasn't all fancy curtains and plush carpet, but it was all she could afford since she was practically paying for everything now. It simply consisted of a small bedroom, bathroom and somewhat of a living room. The kitchen was kind of just anywhere she decided to eat. Helena showered for a good half hour; letting the water pressure blast all the days grime and stress from her body. She leaned her forehead onto the white tiled wall while it went to work on her back side. The dream, she couldn't shake it from her memory. Every time her eyes closed she saw glimpses, faces and heard the voices. It was getting worse. Helena wasn't one to believe in any hoo doo nonsense such as visions or premonitions, but if this woman in her dreams is trying to tell her something she wished she would go ahead and do it.
Once she got out she wiped away the fog that had collected on her cracked bathroom mirror. Her reflection stared back at her, tired, sad and almost had dead look to it. If she was to look at herself ten years ago she wouldn't know what to think and would probably think she was staring at a stranger. Rowland always said she had her mother's face. It was angular, had its exotic features, but other than that she was nothing spectacular to look at.
Helena shrugged and began dressing. It was a face she could live with for the rest of her life.
Lord Vaako's pace was brisk and quick, a sign to others he didn't wish to be pestered. They had been searching for this information for months and finally the Seethers have found this breeder the Lord Marshall had been so perturbed about. He didn't say why he was so desperate to find her he only stated that it was priority one. Vaako didn't like being in the dark.
It had been a few months since the late Lord Marshalls demise by Riddick's hand, and the monger still hadn't gotten used to having a breeder as a leader. Every since his mate, so everyone called her, Kyra died the lord was easily irritated and kept mostly to himself. Only to come out to give orders, and so far all they've done was sit in dead space and search for a girl who might be dead anyway. The newly replenished ranks were growing restless.
Other Necromongers saluted him as he sauntered by. It all made him feel uneasy. Since he had tried to kill the previous Lord Marshall everyone had been keeping a weathered eye on him. It wasn't something noticeable but Vaako wasn't stupid nor was he unknowledgeable to the fact he was considered a threat to everyone on the ship. He noticed the look behind their eyes; fear, and saw how they quickly shuffled away from him. But their obedience was still the same. He was still a Lord, the second in command, under Riddick and Riddick didn't show the least bit of fear of Vaako. Was it true Riddick truly had no fear? Perhaps after the death of his mate everything changed for the breeder.
He made his way into the Seethers bay. Seethers were their knowledge gatherers. The necromongers placed before the orbs to gather information needed to complete task. They were put to much more use when they were searching for the proper planets to convert, and now all their talents were put to waste searching for a single breeder.
"Lord Vaako", one of them walked up to him. "The information the Lord Marshall required on the breeder is all here". Vaako took the padd handed to him. On it was a picture of a woman breeder. The picture was recent if the time on it was correct. It showed her looking into the distance as she walked down some sort of street, covered head to toe in a dark substance. He wanted to cringe at her filthy state; either she was a lowlife breeder or her occupation was one not fit for a woman. The women of the Necro race were always to be kept clean and well mannered. They had to be if they wanted to marry, and if this woman was to be brought to the Lord Marshall they were going to have to do some cleaning up. He imagined she would be somewhat presentable once they did so. Her face had sharp and exotic features. It reminded him of some women on Tarkus that they converted so long ago. The tropical planet was filled with what most men would consider beautiful women, and many made fine additions to their ranks. He wondered if that was where she was from.
"The woman works as a mechanic at a location known as H&R skiff shop", the Seether continued tearing Vaako away from his deep thoughts, "Her work hours are sporadic, so we cannot acquire an accurate time to intervene".
The second in command stared at the picture a little while longer, "That is for the Lord Marshall to determine". With a slight nod to the lesser he left the Seethers bay to inform the 'great leader' himself that they have found his breeder.
"So the snakes been found?" that familiar voice snaked into his ears. Dame Vaako stepped out to intercept him in the hallway. "I wonder what our great lord could possibly want with such an ugly breeder", she said softly looking down at the picture in his hands, flawless face scrunched in disgust.
"I've told you to keep your distance Dame", he hissed trying to keep his anger at bay. It took him long enough to realize his own wife was a conniving, selfish little bitch that wanted her own husband to risk his neck to move her up in ranks. After their argument when Riddick killed the late Lord Marshall he almost killed her when she blamed him for the failure with harsh words. Whatever the woman was when they first were married she was no more, but she still wore that golden dress. That golden dress that signified she was the wife of a Lord. It irked him beyond belief just to see it cling so tightly to her slender form reminding him of what he dismissed from his bed; though, he would rather lie with one of the lesser women than her ever again.
Her hands started tracing his armored forearm, "My Lord Vaako". She hummed moving from his arm to his chest, "You simply cannot forgive your own wife can't you? Yet you forget who's been with you through all the hell the Marshalls have caused us".
He grabbed her wrist almost crushing it in his massive hands though no pain reflected on her face, "I am through with your scheming Dame", he said through clenched teeth, "be gone, find another man condemn to death".
She yanked away, "Why?" her dark eyes grew desperate and wide, "Why when there's still a chance for victory? All it will take-"
"No", he advanced nearly pinning her to a nearby wall, "If you so much as breathe another plan to kill the Marshall then I will rid the world of you without so much of a thought", the threat slithered between his teeth. He found it was getting harder to control his anger around his late wife.
Her wide, coal eyes softened as a smile played across her thin lips, "In time Vaako. Riddick will be weak and you will take your rightful place on the throne". She slithered her hand over his shoulder and down his back before bristly walking away before he could turn and punish her properly. She was going to get what's coming to her once and for all when things would settle down, but for now he had to do the Lords bidding. He might not be the Lord Marshall, but he was still second in command and had worked hard to be at such a place.
"You keep what you kill", Riddick whispered to himself in the silence of his own room. The idea of staying in the room the Lord Marshall once did didn't suit him quite well, but Vaako insisted it since he was now the new Lord of the Necromongers. Riddick shifted the knife he had used to kill the monger a few months ago in his palms. He had never washed it. The blood stains were still visible along the tip of the jagged blade he always carried around his waist.
A deadly reminder for everyone to see.
He placed the knife back on the dresser and continued to stare at himself in the mirror. The business of being the new Lord gave his once beast ridden eyes a tired look. Changing the belief of the mongers wasn't an easy task after his takeover. All of them still believed that the underverse awaited them as long as they continued to convert worlds which is what they no longer did. Now, all the necros did was do his bidding, which the true meaning behind his orders were being kept hidden from them for the time being
And if the defiance of his own crew wasn't enough he constantly had to watch his back. Keeping what you kill applied to everyone. If Vaako or any others were planning to have him assassinated to attain the throne it would not be an easy task as long as he was alert.
Riddick rubbed the scar on his left arm where then battle against the Lord Marshall had left him wounded then moved his hands to his chest where the mark of the Furyan laid at rest. He still had dreams of the mystery woman that touched him. The scenes of the large graveyard swirled like a storm in the back of his mind. His anger was pent up at the necro race and one day whenever he lost control it would be enough to kill again. Which is why he needed to solve this one last mystery.
A melodic chime sounded at the door.
"Enter", was his gruff reply as he straightened himself.
His dark haired, second in command stepped in looking none too pleased.
"Vaako, my favorite commander", Riddicks dark demanding voice vibrated, "What can I do for you?"
The Commander bowed slightly, "The Seethers have collected the information you asked for", he held out the padd. The expression on his face suggested he wanted to spend a good two hours in the sparring room to get some pent up frustration out. Riddick figured it had something to do with that bitch of a wife of his.
Riddicks entire demeanor shifted as he snatched the tool to himself. He studied it in complete silence for what felt to Vaako like hours. His Lords glowing eyes traced back and forth over the information and the picture given. She was just how Rowland had described right down to the piercing green eyes.
"Prep a pod Vaako. It looks like I'm taking a trip to Meruda V".