C101 Bound In Blood, Lost In Fire

"At least with this lot, most of them know their limits now. After the Iron Forge, they'll be more realistic about what they can handle."

Julian took a drag from his cigar, blowing the smoke lazily into the air.

"We'll compare their results. Match the best to the roles that need filling. But you know what we really need?"

His voice dropped a little, a grin forming on his lips.

"We need a bigger ship. No way we're keeping all these underway babies on board."

I grunted, sipping my whiskey.

"Three thousand confirmed pregnancies and counting. We haven't even tallied up today's… festivities. By the time we're done, we'll probably be sitting closer to five thousand maybe even more."

Paul chuckled.

"You'd think with all the PT, they wouldn't have the energy."

"They always find the energy for this,"

Airid said, shaking his head.

"You can break them down, put them through hell, but give 'em a chance to f*ck, and they'll take it."

I sighed, running a hand over my face.

"We've got no choice. If the Iron Fenrirs are going to survive, we need to upgrade. A destroyer-class ship, minimum. There's no way the current Invicta can handle the load we will be dealing with In the future."

Julian smirked, swirling his drink.

"Already thinking about the next ship, huh? Makes sense, though. Terranum Imperium needs room to grow."

Before I could reply, the sound of bottles clinking down on our already crowded table caught my attention.

Four shadowy figures swaggered over, deadbeat drunk and grinning like they had just won the lottery.

Yin, Yang, Catherine, and Morgana stood in front of us, each holding bottles of vodka, whiskey, and other strong stuff, their expressions a mix of defiance and mischief.

With a loud thunk, they slapped the bottles onto the table, along with a set of mismatched glasses.

"Well, well, well,"

Morgana slurred, a crooked grin on her face as she leaned heavily on the table.

"Looks like the big, bad alpha is having a quiet night. Mind if we… liven things up?"

I glanced around the table, already knowing what was coming.

My battle brothers were snickering, their eyes gleaming with amusement.

Paul raised his glass, a lazy grin spreading across his face.

"Don't let us stop you,"

He said, already scooting his chair back.

Darius stood up, stretching his arms.

"Looks like we're not needed here anymore."

He shot me a wink before turning to leave.

"Good luck, Drac."

Airid snorted, downing the rest of his drink before following suit.

"Have fun, vamp,"

He added with a smirk.

Julian, cigar still hanging from his lips, gave me a quick salute before walking away.

"Don't do anything I wouldn't do,"

He called over his shoulder.

"Traitors,"

I growled under my breath as they left, flashing those knowing grins as they disappeared into the sea of celebrating battle brothers and sisters.

I was alone now, with these four deadbeat drunk, determined women who were most likely going to make a big mistake again that they would definitely come regret In the morning staring me down, each of them clearly intent on making this night as difficult as possible.

Yin poured a shot of vodka, sliding it toward me with a grin.

"C'mon, Drac,"

She said, her voice sultry with intoxication.

"You're not going to let us drink alone, are you?"

I raised an eyebrow, crossing my arms over my chest.

"You four think you're up for this?"

Yang leaned over, her hand grazing my arm as she poured herself a drink.

"Oh, we're up for it,"

She said, her voice low.

"Are you?"

Catherine smirked, her glass already full of whiskey.

"It's not like you can say no. We brought enough to keep you busy."

Morgana, the most mischievous of the bunch, leaned in closer.

"What's the matter, Drac? Afraid we might drink you under the table?"

I chuckled darkly, taking the shot glass in hand.

They had no idea what they were getting themselves into again.

"Didn't you four had enough regrets after last time already"

I said, downing the vodka in one smooth motion.

The burn in my throat was nothing compared to the fire already burning in my chest.

"If you keep on pushing my buttons… you're going to regret it."

Yin grinned, raising her glass

"Let's see who regrets what."

The night was about to get interesting, and I had no intention of backing down.

The bar was slowly starting to empty as the night dragged on.

Most of the recruits had either passed out or stumbled back to their quarters, leaving a sea of discarded bottles and cigarette butts. But at my table, things were just heating up.

Yin, Yang, Morgana, and Catherine were all still here, barely conscious but determined to keep going.

Their eyes were glassy from the alcohol, but their energy was far from spent.

They had brought enough booze to last the night, and it seemed like they were hellbent on making sure I stayed until the end.

I leaned back in my chair, swirling the drink in my glass as they asked personal questions, prodding, pushing, clearly trying to break through my usual armor.

The alcohol had loosened their tongues, and they weren't holding back.

"Why didn't you even say a word to us after that night?" 

Yin asked, her voice a mix of curiosity and frustration.

The question hung in the air, heavy with the weight of what had passed between us.

I grabbed my glass, staring into the liquid for a moment before swirling it and speaking truthfully.

"In my more than half a century of life, I haven't connected with anyone at most, I've had two or three one-night stands with a single woman. Not because I have any physical problems down there, or because they did"

I paused, taking a sip of the drink, the burn familiar and grounding.

"I just didn't feel anything for them. I don't know if it's some kind of childhood trauma or if I was just born this way… defective maybe, basically I don't do relationships."

I said this as plainly as I could.

Yang frowned, leaning in.

"Why? What's the problem with relationships and what do you do then?"

I met her gaze, my voice steady as I continued.

"Because the whole relationship thing is just a bunch of chemicals and hormones released in the heat of the moment. Eventually, they fade away. Then what do you do? You're left with nothing but the mess and a bunch of regrets that's left behind. Me? I kill for a living."

The table fell silent at that, the weight of my words hanging heavy in the air.

Morgana's grin faded, Catherine stared into her glass, and Yang's eyes flickered with something deeper, something she didn't quite want to confront.

Yin, however, wasn't having it. She slammed her fist on the table, causing the bottles to rattle and some to spill. 

"Oh, come on, you f*cker! Just come out and say it!"

She growled, her voice filled with both frustration and a surprising amount of hurt.

"You think we're ugly, don't you? With all this lean muscle mass we've put on because of you and the scars you gave us!"

She jabbed a finger in Catherine's direction, her voice rising.

"For f*ck's sake, you shot Cat in the g*ddamn f*cking leg! Don't you think you should take responsibility for that? Who the f*ck does that?!"

Catherine shifted uncomfortably in her seat, her fingers rubbing at the scar on her thigh as Yin continued to berate me.

The room seemed to hold its breath, waiting for my response.

I remained silent for a moment, glancing at Catherine and then back to Yin.

"What's done is done. What's the point of an apology? It won't fix anything."

Yin's eyes flared with anger, and before I could react, she jumped onto the table, scattering the bottles as she gripped the collar of my space uniform, her face inches from mine, her breathing heavy with rage.