A/N: This story was written with the express permission of the "creator" of the crossover fanverse The Firefly Chronicles, DayzeJane. Thanks for letting me play, DJ.
Serenity had seen many strange tableau play out over the decades of her life; none as strange as those presented to her by her current crew. Perhaps topping them all was the particular game quickly nearing its conclusion in her cargo bay.
"These teams seem a bit unfair to anybody else?" Wash complained bitterly from the sidelines as he held a cold compress to the left side of his face.
"Says the man who decided Flight versus Ground Crew." His wife quipped back with a slight pant as she wiped away the sweat which beaded along the back of her neck.
He rolled his eyes at the mocking little smile that twitched at the corner of her lips and turned back to the rest of his team; the majority of which sat on the sidelines with him.
"And there wasn't one of you that thought to stop me?" He grumbled.
"I believe I did." The Shepherd replied and winced as he massaged the shoulder that had taken a particularly unforgiving shot from Riddick. "And I quote, 'Sheesh, for a Shepherd you don't have a whole lotta faith.' End quote." He shook his head as he chuckled slightly. "Turns out, I'm more of a realist than any of you might have guessed."
The game was one of the oldest known to man, Dodgeball, and Wash would have been at least grateful that Inara had found some smaller, softer balls in one of their decoy cargo crates than the ones they used for Hoopball. Would have been, if not for the fact that the smaller size made little-to-no difference when they were hurled with what seemed to him to be an ungodly amount of strength and speed.
The preacher's smile twisted into a grimace of sympathetic pain as Kaylee took a ball to the stomach that had been hurled by an unrepentant captain.
"Just two more to go, people! Let's mop this up. Cap'n's gotta get his prize!" Mal gloated, the last declaration said with a surprisingly lecherous look in the Companion's direction.
Inara merely laughed and lobbed a ball in his direction in response only to have it snatched from the air by the rock-solid hand of Riddick before it got a foot over the yellow tape the crew had spread across the bay. She pouted with a bit of feigned drama as she made her way over to where her defeated team was watching the rest of the contest. Oddly enough, she didn't mind at all being on the losing side, she was more than happy with simply being asked to join in the game. Even if it was just Jayne and Riddick's idea of a training exercise in disguise.
The Ground Crew, consisting of Riddick, Jayne, Mal, and Zoe, had taken a handicap against the Flight; offering up River and Book to compensate for their obvious advantage. However, much to the almost immediate dismay of the Flight Crew, Simon had been pummeled in the opening ten seconds of play and, while Book had surprisingly held his weight for longer, River hadn't done much besides stare at the ceiling and occasionally twirl out of the way of a ball. Kaylee figured it either had to do with the tiny bit of mercy Riddick had, that he usually saved solely for the Reader in question, or that it was all a part of some grand, devious ploy. She desperately hoped it was the latter as she finally picked herself up off the ground and limped back to the sidelines.
"That looked like it hurt." Simon offered consolingly as he made a bit of room for her.
"No more than the pummelin' you took, I suspect." She replied with a feigned sort of cheerfulness as she plopped down with a groan. "What's the odds your sister's just waitin' for her chance to show off?" She asked.
The prize for the victors of tonight's game had come from the same spurt of genius that had Wash suggest Flight against Ground. The winners all got to pick somebody from the losing side and ask for one thing; whether it be a favor or a chore swap or a ridiculous and humiliating song and dance Wash had plotted for Jayne.
"God, I hope so." The doctor replied as he gently probed a rapidly growing welt just below his ribs. The small purplish-blue circle looked even angrier than he supposed it felt against the pale white of his torso.
The crew, which had grown increasingly more comfortable around each other, was dressed casually, though Simon was the only male to opt for a shirt as the last bit of modesty his upper class breeding afforded him. Not to mention that it was hard to feel anything but puny standing next to Jayne and Riddick. It was apparent to him that the last few weeks of miserable forced exercise and training were beginning to pay off. The doctor in him kicked in at the oddest of times occasionally and, since he had been forced to watch the game from the sidelines for the majority of it, he had noticed a dramatic change in almost every one of them. Everyone was looking leaner and more muscular. Even the ones, like himself, that had only pretended to use the weights at first were showing an increase in overall muscle tone.
Oddly enough, Riddick's thoughts were running along the same line as the doctor's. While it was true he'd taken a definite sort of pleasure in nailing the preacher, he'd stepped it back most of the game in order to observe the movements of the others. He could hear the individual breakdown of their breathing and heart rates and, he noted with satisfaction, that all the cardiovascular training was starting to take effect. They were moving far more fluidly than before, their footwork wasn't as clumsy and even little Kaylee had surprised the hell out of him with a few of the shots she'd dodged before Mal had gotten in a lucky one while she dodged another from Zoe.
Despite his satisfaction with their progress, he kept his face the same mask of indifference as always; he wasn't one for compliments. That he bothered at all to try to keep any of them alive should have been compliment enough to them. Besides, he was much more interested in River's seemingly innocent, wide-eyed doe act. He wasn't buying it for a second. Playing at being unassuming and crazy was one of her specialties. She was the only one left standing on her side of the line now and he only wondered who on his team was dumb enough to take the bait. The answer should have been obvious.
"Give it up, Riv!" Jayne brayed as he produced a choco-bar from his shorts and, after tearing it open with his teeth since his spare hand was occupied by a ball, took a large bite from it. "Ya ain't got half a chance 'gainst me and Riddick!"
Once more the convict found himself wondering if he over- or underestimated Jayne as he watched the merc hurl his ball with all of his considerable strength behind it. This time Riddick was going to settle on a gross overestimation of the man.
He felt a small cord of amusement twist through him. Amusement that was not his own and was followed by a cascade of giggles that tingled down his spine and into his toes. He had just enough time to think, Fucking idiot.
In the blink of an eye, the Reader's hand sprang up and snatched the ball out of mid-air. Before Jayne's disappointed cry left his lips, Mal and Zoe had sent their balls screaming through the air. River slapped one away with the ball in her right hand and simply rolled beneath the other. She came out of the roll with a dodgeball in each hand and suddenly both former Browncoats were doubled over in pain from catching the things with their guts.
Oh, yes, fucking idiot indeed. He felt River reply mentally as the formerly silent giggle spilled audibly out her lips to send a chill down everyone's spine.
Riddick smirked and loosed his ball at the crouched Reader. That smirk disappeared as she sprang backwards into a spin that had her parallel to the floor and, out of that dizzying sight, a dodgeball seemed to materialize. The Furyan instinctively knew that she had caught his ball, which did not result in an out when there were only two players, though the thought barely had the time to fully articulate before she threw it back at him. He twisted out of the way, bending down to scoop up another ball in the process, and swatted the follow-up shot out of the way with both hands on his recently acquired dodgeball. The Reader didn't have any ammunition in her hands and she was twirling her way across the floor like a ballerina instead of paying attention to the game.
He should have known better; he should have seen through the ruse and he did, just not until the ball in his hand had left his fingertips. In that same breath, he watched her slow twirl suddenly become a tornado of motion, his own counter-turn a heartbeat too late as the ball she had kicked off the floor slammed into his chest.
Fuck! He roared in his head, though only a grunt of irritation audibly escaped his lips. You're never gonna let me live this down, are you? He thought crossly but the laughter that bubbled from River's mind softened the edges of his defeat.
Wash will not tire for approximately two to three weeks; given Jayne provides new fodder.
Fucking great... sure I can't just kill him?
No killing. She taunted as she spun in circles around him; her laughter moving once more from their mental realm to that of one that would reach the rest of the crew and blended in with her team's cheers. She halted directly in front of him and poked her small finger smugly against his chest. Or maiming.
Your brother shot Jayne. He countered.
Just a graze. She replied dismissively, the smugness on her face not abating in the slightest.
Killed people for less. He mentally grunted though, admittedly, the irritation was gone from it and a bit of his own humor infiltrated his mental tone.
While the silent conversation went down its inevitable course, the Flight Crew of Serenity was in full gloating mode. Jayne sulked and folded his arms beneath his chest.
"'S'not fair if you ask me. Having a gorram Reader on your team!" The merc grumbled as he lifted Kaylee off her crate only to resettle on it with her on his lap. "Takes all the fun out of it."
"Aw, ain't no cause to get all sore cause ya'lls lost to nothin' but a bunch of deck monkeys." Kaylee giggled and swatted her big, sweaty merc on the chest. "Coulda kept Riv on your team since she runs jobs with ya'll now, but ya didn't."
"Wasn't my call." He grumbled.
"Bit's been singin' to the stars all gorram day!" Mal retorted defensively as he took a seat on a crate besides Book. "I figured she'd just stare at that gorram ceiling all game. How was I supposed to know she'd go all... mind-thingie on us at the end!"
"As usual, Captain, your excuses fall just a tad short, so it's understandable that a girl that barely comes to your shoulder managed to beat you." Book got his own little barb in.
"It does make one wonder." Inara mulled.
"On what?" Mal demanded a bit heatedly, more sore than Jayne over their loss.
"Exactly how long she knew Jayne and Riddick were planning on playing today." The Companion teased. "I believe that's what you would call a 'shark'."
"You mean she's been plottin' that all damn day?" Mal asked incredulously.
"Are you really that surprised?" Simon gloated proudly. "This is my sister we are speaking about."
Mal grumbled something about his gorram crew and Captain-y respect but that was duly ignored as River and Riddick made their way over towards them. They were staring at each other in that disconcerting way that spoke of mental communication. It said a lot about how far they had come that it no longer bothered the crew in the slightest.
"So, Riv, whatcha gonna ask for?" Kaylee asked excitedly.
River made a show of thinking it over and Riddick couldn't help the slight twinge of dread as she rolled her eyes sideways to land her gaze on him. "She wants a secret. One of yours." She addressed him pointedly.
"Don't'cha know everybody's secrets already? Especially his?" Kaylee asked, her face scrunching slightly in confusion.
River shrugged. "It is better to have them freely given." In truth, it was really more of a subtle ploy for payback. She was still a tad peeved at Riddick over not being allowed to go on the gun buying trip and the story she had in mind was both related to that as well as being one of the more humbling he had. "She wants to know the story of Mikki and Dev."
"Oh, I'm all ears for this one!" Wash exclaimed as though someone had just given him a whole parcel of new dinosaurs to play with. He'd been a bit put out over missing the last meeting considering the story his wife had come back to the ship with.
Riddick growled low in his chest and glared at the Reader next to him; not so much as even flinching when she goosed him.
"Don't make faces." River teased with more liberty than anyone else would have dared. "He has lost and she has won."
"Come on, Riddick." Mal urged. "All of us agreed to the rules. I'ma mite curious 'bout this story myself."
Another growl rumbled through the convict's chest as he turned and headed for the stairs leading to the mess.
"Aw, come'on, Riddick, can't re-nig!" Kaylee called after him.
"I'm not." Riddick called back. "Just gonna need a fucking drink for this. Might as well take this little pow-wow up to the mess."
It was a couple of years after the war, and the added bad side of another after I'd broken out of Ursa Luna. There's this, or maybe by now there was, a little shithole of a mining station built into the side of an asteroid in Blue Sun; name was a bunch of letters and numbers- don't even remember it now. I was running a few odd jobs, grunt work mostly; just trying to lay low, disappear. Point is, it was right around the time the merc guilds released their new "unified ranking". Hadn't even heard shit about it. Rock only linked to the Cortex once every three universal months- but it had a whorehouse. Whose making faces now, River?
The world came into focus sluggishly for Riddick as he breathed in a foreign bitterness mingled with the sweat which had dried to his skin. It whispered along the edges of his reawakened mind and incited a mental riot of angry profanity over the realization that the whore had drugged him. He was more pissed at himself for relaxing his guard than at the whore. Whores were bought and sold every day. He'd been the one dumb enough to take the shot of rum without smelling it first. He'd let himself start to feel safe on that little backwater station. Really, the whole thing was his own damn fault. At least he'd gotten the fuck he'd paid for. The whore had been honest about that.
Is that where you got the 'assumptions are the mother of all fuck-ups' thing?
You want to hear this story or not, Mal?
The captured fugitive studied his new accommodations with a calm, steely gaze. It was a small, barred cell with just enough room for him to stand or crouch but not enough to lay flat to get a proper rest. There was no furniture other than a nasty plug in the center of the floor that, from the stains surrounding it and the smells coming from it, was a glorified shit-hole. Riddick held his ear close to the bars and grunted to himself at the audible hum he could hear.
High voltage. Not enough to kill but enough to get your attention.
There was very little room in the corridor he was in, a solid bulkhead lay only a meter from his cage, and he saw why with a glance to either side. Several more cells had been placed on either side of him. Four of them were occupied, including the one immediately to his right, and all of his neighbors were still unconscious. A closer look at the redhead next to him enlightened him as to why everyone was still asleep. A needle had been jabbed into one of the veins in the man's leg, revealed by the tiny shorts he was wearing, and the otherworldly glow of a cryo-cocktail flowed into him via a flexible tube that disappeared into the ceiling. Riddick looked down and grunted when he saw that he was similarly scantily-clad in a pair of tights that barely covered his balls.
Footsteps, solid but surprisingly light, echoed to him from maybe ten meters away. Soon, a familiar figure came into view. The whore, Jasmine, wore a pair of skintight shorts made of a glossy material that seemed very close to totally revealing everything from ass to cunt. Her skimpy tanktop wasn't much better in covering up her body but Riddick supposed that was the point. Big blue eyes that he had thought so innocent were now narrowed in self-satisfaction. Long, dark blonde hair was tied back in a ponytail to reveal the large diamond tattoo on the left side of her neck. She was wearing less makeup this time, only blindingly bright red lipstick, and looked even better in the dim light being cast by the overheads.
"Well, look who's awake." She said in a husky accent that Riddick couldn't place. "Sleep well, my dear prince?"
Riddick sat back against the bulkhead behind him, one knee bent close to his body and the other extended before him, and watched her with hooded eyes. Jasmine crouched down so they were eye level, shorts straining at the crotch, and licked her lips.
"Too bad you were my mark. We had so much fun."
Riddick pretended to ignore her. His outwardly stoic response ran in furious contrast to the rush of heat he felt swell in his blood as his anger at himself nearly boiled. Not only had he failed to smell the drugs in the rum but he'd somehow missed the stench of merc on the whore.
After a few moments of silence, the woman grew frustrated. "You were so much more talkative at the whorehouse. And I was so nice to come down here to keep you company." She pouted that same puffy lower lip that had drawn Riddick to her in the first place.
"Fuck!" Another accented voice came from the thin-faced redhead on his left. He could place this one at least to the two or three rocks that were settled by Eastern Europeans from Earth-That-Was. "What the fuck? Where am I?"
The blonde immediately switched her attention to the freshly conscious man. "You're on a ship! Why, you've won a prize! An all-expenses paid trip to a double-max. You can thank Lori for that."
"Lori?" The man's dark blue eyes widened. "You mean that fuckin' whore? Goddamnit! I knew a bitch that fine wouldn't charge so little for a fuck! You a fuckin' merc, cunt?"
Jasmine's face turned several shades of red and she produced a small, handheld taser from... well, Riddick didn't exactly know where as tight as her shorts were. The foul-mouthed prisoner held up his hands and was about to say something when, without preamble, the merc-woman fired. Prongs dug into the man's thigh, far too close to his package, and he began to spasm wildly in his cell. His screams did not wake the others and, much to Riddick's sensitive hearing's relief, Jasmine quickly tired of it.
"Now, now, only nice boys get to play."
"Alright, alright!" He relented quickly and that was followed by a jumbled stream of profanity that crossed into something Riddick thought was Old Russian as he tried to force air back into his lungs. The convict watched as the redhead forced himself to relax and finally took the opportunity to crane his neck around to get a clear grip on his surroundings. "Nice digs for mercs." He tossed out with all the cockiness and bluster of youth. "Now- where the fuck am I?"
Jasmine's eyes nearly sparkled with cruelty. "Not nice enou-,"
"On a Crystal Water Alliance Cruiser, chopped down of course, but I can still smell the Fed in the grating." Riddick's deep, graveled voice interrupted the whore/merc before she could zap the kid again. Not that he spoke with any sort of sympathy for him; but rather to fuck with the little blonde merc who was positively dripping with the power she had over them. "We've been out three or four days. Just dropped in-system, decelerating for planet-fall. Max speed for a cruiser? That means Ursa Luna."
Both of their jaws went a little slack as the merc and the prisoner stared at him.
How'd'ya know all that when you were sleepin' the whole time?
Same way you'd know, Kaylee. Just have to listen. I'd been on some of the first cruisers during their shakedown runs while I was doing my training for the Company. Crystal Waters is just another arm of Blue Sun. Sound of the engines was clear enough, difference in air pressure, all I needed to tell me we were decelerating. I'd given the girl a bad hickey and by then it looked to be a few days old. I knew every Slam within range and the one with the biggest hard-on for my ass was Ursa Luna.
A slow clap echoed down the corridor and a short, slender man with Earth-That-Was Asiatic ancestry in his features came into view. He was dressed in standard spacer gear; flight vest over a T-shirt, loose-fit cotton cargo pants, and well-worn dark blue combat boots. A 10mm ACP rested comfortably in a thigh holster on his left leg, which he favored, and Riddick couldn't help but notice that he only had three fingers on his right hand. It threw off the sound of the clap in an almost irritating way.
"Very impressive, Riddick. You've made quite the name for yourself and now I can see why."
"Riddick?" His fellow prisoner asked with raised eyebrows that was followed by a soft whistle. "No shit."
"Didn't realize I'd gotten so popular."
"Can't go all shiv-happy on one of the elite corporate puppet masters without earnin' a bit of a rep." The redhead joked despite his situation. "Of course that might have been that bit of military brass you killed to get to him that really pissed 'em off."
"Just culling the herd." The convict replied, pointedly ignoring the seven-fingered man.
"He also gave the warden of Ursa Luna a little going away present. They've offering a fifty thousand bonus for any merc that brings you to their doorstep, Riddick. Your bald ass alone is going to set me up for a nice, fat, easy payday guarding another dumbass corporate bigshot on top of the five hundred K I'm going to get for you and these other fish."
"And I'll get my C-Rank right, Han?" The blonde whore asked with an eagerness that reminded Riddick of a puppy begging for a treat.
"Yes, Jas. Now get your ass to my bunk. We've got a few hours before planetfall and I got an itch." Han swatted the whore on the ass with a sound like a gunshot. Riddick, who had firsthand experience of how hard the deceptively plump rear was, knew how rough Jasmine liked it. She giggled like a simpleton and scampered away with a wave goodbye. After a minute or two, Han breathed a sigh of relief. "Fucking woman. I can't wait to drop her ass on Ares and get bait that's a little less stupid. She's a great fuck but she's such a fucking tease. Guess you already knew that. No hard feelings, Richie, but I have an inkling Warden Daniels doesn't feel that way. That crazy bitch probably grew a cock to shove up your ass. Too bad you didn't get a piece of Lil' before you got sent back to that hellhole. Oh well. Time to get my dick wet."
"It's Riddick." The convict clarified.
"Like I give a shit." Han retorted as he turned his back to saunter out the hatch.
"Just thought you'd like to know the name of the man who your tease tastes like." Riddick remarked with an air of nonchalance.
"She fucked you?" Han demanded as he turned angrily.
"Aw, don't think he likes to share with the likes of us filthy convicts." The redhead mocked. "Looks like he'll be wanking it out then, since that bitch Lori just about broke my dick off with her snatch. Fucked me unconscious and then I woke up here. I didn't even take anything she tried to offer me. She just wore my dick out."
Han angrily hit a button out of their sight and a single shutter slammed closed to block them off from the corridor's light.
"Fucking guild mercs. They're multiplying like roaches, man." The unnamed man spoke into the darkness. Probably to distract himself. Riddick simply raised his goggles and looked right at him. To his credit, the prisoner didn't flinch, gasp, or even make the standard dumbass remark about his eyes.
"What's your name?"
"Andre."
"Since when are mercs organized enough to run guilds?"
"Man, you've really been out the loop, haven't you? You do know the war's over, right?" Riddick growled and the man continued with a nervous chuckle and cleared his throat. "After the Alliance disbanded all the planetary militias and Civilian Security Corps. there wasn't anybody left keeping the peace and upholding their or anybody's version of the law. Then some asshole in Parliament got the idea to organize mercs to 'maintain order' or some gou shi like that. Fucking politicians." He spat.
Andre lined it all out for me. Merc guilds. Parliament. The Fugitive Retrieval Act. Basically how anyone with a high enough bounty was going to be fucked for the rest of their life unless they managed to get themselves declared dead. We talked almost the entire way to Ursa Luna. I learned he was a hacker and a forger. A good one or so he said. He was the kind of friend you needed when you wanted to stage a jailbreak the same day you arrived.
I always wondered how ya managed to get back out so fast. How long did it take ya? I heard sixteen hours.
More like twelve, Jayne. When you know the route, all you need is the expertise or the people with it. In that dark hell, I found all the help I thought I would need.
"Rise and shine, you fucks!" A deep-voiced growl accompanied the opening of the shutter.
The overheads had been turned up to their full illumination and cast the cells in a harsh, white light. Andre cursed and covered his eyes while Riddick, already having his goggles down, merely rose to his bare feet. Han casually leaned against the bulkhead near the airlock holding a short-barreled automatic weapon with a drum magazine. He could sweep the entire row of cells in one go if the prisoners became too unruly. Three men were kicking the bars of the cells and loudly encouraging the prisoners to stand. Each of them wore masks made of some kind of burnished metal and spacer overalls beneath glossy body armor. None were armed with more than a sidearm.
"Square up to the bars! You know the drill!" The one with three X's on the forehead of his mask barked.
Riddick calmly placed his hands, palms up, outside the cell; cuffs went around ankles and wrists to the nasty chuckle of the fucker with, of all things, a pink pentagram on the left cheek of his mask. Once all the prisoners were cuffed, the bars retracted into the ceiling and floor. Riddick stepped out of the cell without a word and lined up behind Andre. The five prisoners were linked, back-to-front, and Han activated the airlock.
The SS-ranked merc led the way through the antechamber that was the lock itself and down a ramp three meters to the floor of an immense docking bay. From floor-to-ceiling, the space was nearly fifty meters in height. Along one corner, that height was definitely necessary as a supply boat had recently docked. The fat, oblong shape nearly brushed the arched ceiling of the docking bay and utterly dwarfed the cruiser.
Waiting for the group at the bottom of the ramp were at least twenty Slam guards in their expensive Class III armor and each with their shotguns, which were probably loaded with non-lethal taser rounds, all leveled at Han's mercs.
"Whoa, whoa, Warden!" Han let his rifle dangle on its sling and raised his hands in the air. "There's no need for all this! As you can see," He added with a flourish in Riddick's direction. "-I have everything under control."
Warden Daniels stepped from behind her line of guards, dressed in a tight black dress that barely reached her knees, and cast a hateful glance at Riddick. All that remained of the beating he had administered to her last time was a barely visible scar on her lip. Plastic surgery was truly a miraculous thing but it couldn't cure the crazy that burned in her midnight blue eyes as she glared at Riddick.
"One thing I've learned about Riddick is that you should never be overly certain he's tamed." Daniels snorted, tossing her shoulder-length crimson hair over her shoulder, and made her way to the back of the line where Riddick was. She ran a long, sharp-nailed hand along his chest hard enough to draw tiny beads of blood. "He's like keeping a free-range tiger as a pet. He could turn on you any minute." She looked Riddick right in the eye as she brought the tip of one of her fingers to her lips and licked a drop of his blood. "Welcome home, Riddick," she purred; nearly a whispered. "Casper-," she called out louder without removing her eyes from Riddick's goggles, "-take them to Processing and get Riddick ready to receive my special welcome back attentions. Han, come with me and we'll settle up."
That woman sounds insane.
One thing I've learned about people that run Slams, Inara, is that unbalanced is in the job description.
"This way, cocksuckers!" Casper, Riddick recognized him by the voice as all of the guards wore full helmets, barked and led the way down a red-lined path that read 'Central Processing'.
The cruiser and the supply ship were the only boats in the docking bay at the moment. Riddick kept his eyes forward and his expression neutral as Casper went on in the usual 'don't fuck with the system and the system won't fuck with you' speech.
What they don't tell you is that the system is designed to fuck you... unless you learn to cheat.
The group reached the tall, wide double doors that led to Processing. The metallic hiss that heralded their opening was nearly drowned out by the collective exclamations of the chain of new fish with the exception of two. Riddick had prepared Andre for what lay beyond those doors. His own particular brand of repayment for the new information on guilds and, to the redhead's credit, his expression and posture remained as blank and bored as his fellow convict. Five meters beyond the door was a giant window that let one view the desolate expanse of space that was dominated by Ursa Terra. An unimpressive, textbook attempt to shock the first-timers to the futility of any thoughts of escape.
The only regular ship that ever docked on the orbiting moon prison was the monthly supply ship which Riddick knew from personal experience was more heavily guarded than a Senate motorcade. It could be done but he was sure they'd patched up that particular hole after his last stint in the place. He wasn't one to ride the same gamble twice. In case of a riot, the hacks' section was nearly two hundred kilometers away by rail and easy to cut-off from the prison. Even the guard quarters in the prison complex could be turned into a virtual fortress. It was standard procedure to just allow the prisoners to drop from exhaustion, dehydration, or starvation before stepping in, rather than make the payouts the guards families got if they were killed trying to restore order.
Then how the hell did you get out the first time, Riddick?
I latched onto the supply boat when it went back down to Ursa Terra... from the surface of the moon.
That's insane!
You're one to talk, Mal.
"Stop staring like that before these boys get too excited thinking about sticking their cocks in your mouths! Move it!" Casper shouted and the line obediently shuffled to the left.
Then they were assaulted by the catcalls of the prisoners that had, somehow, been alerted to the fact that new fish were coming in. Why there was a virtual viewing gallery suspended above the Processing walk was no mystery to Riddick. It was all about intimidating the new fish into viewing the hacks as saviors from the animals that resided in Ursa Luna. When Riddick came into view, the silence was deafening but it did not last.
"Riddick! You motherfucker! I'm gonna fucking kill you, you fucking cunt!" A shrill voice cut through the silence like a well-made shiv. "I'm gonna cut your fucking balls off and choke you wit' 'em! I'm gonna make you wish your mother had swallowed you, you fucking shit!"
A surprisingly large man for such a high-pitched voice was frantically tugging on the chain link fence that separated the convicts from the Processing area. A nasty scar decorated one side of his face where an eye patch covered the empty socket in which his other eye used to reside.
"Nice patch, Luthor." Riddick said into the quiet when the man paused to catch his breath. "Keep it up and I'll give you one to match."
"I'm gonna fucking kill you!"
"Not if I get to him first!" Someone else shouted and then it began.
Did you ever make any friends?
Do you really need to ask that, Zoe?
The convicts flew into a frenzy of barked threats, gnashed teeth, and foaming mouths as they went berserk at Riddick's presence. Riddick had been there for long enough to cross just about every big gang that operated in the prison, some he had actually helped, so there were many that he had never interacted with at all that would be out for his blood. It was too bad for them that he didn't plan to be there long.
We were processed under the riot that was obviously shaping up. Casper called for hacks to settle the prisoners down as we were given clothes and shoes and an I.D. Number. I memorized Andre's for his block and cell number, didn't bother to remember mine. Doubted I'd ever get around to needing it anyway. Casper split me up from the others when they were led to delousing. He and three others led me down to one of the delousing showers in an abandoned area of the old mines.
Just four of 'em huh?
Just their first mistake, Cobb. Don't see why he ever thought it was a good idea to lead the Big Bad Wolf down into the dark.
Riddick watched closely as he was led into an ancient looking delousing room. It was a square chamber with multiple heads extending from the ceiling. A platform had been set up over the large drain in the center of the room and Riddick could imagine what would happen up there if he didn't act soon. His handcuffs, picked before he even left Han's cruiser with a sliver of metal he had pried from the drain of the shit-hole, were released with a deft twist. The convict spun around the guard behind him and twisted the long chain around his neck. His captive's choking alerted the others but not before Riddick aimed the shotgun one-handed and fired into the back of the thigh of the guard in front of him. Thousands of volts ran through the hack's body as he collapsed with piss streaming down his pants. Riddick spun the hack in his arms around and threw him into the guard just charging through the doorway to the shower. He didn't wait for them to collide with a meaty thud as he charged at Casper.
The big hack got off one shot, which was way off target, before Riddick was on him, but he had to give the man credit. He went for his shock baton without even trying to fire another shot. He wasn't fast enough though; not many were. Riddick grabbed the wrist going for the baton and Casper's neck. With a grunt, he hoisted the man onto his shoulders and into the air.
"Riddick!" The man bellowed in a combination of fury and fear as Riddick spiked him directly onto his helmet.
The helmet split with a wet crack and Casper was left in a broken heap on the ground. He was breathing shallowly but Riddick could tell that his time was running low just from the sound of his heartbeat. He had broken his spinal cord in just the right way to ensure his heartbeat regulation would fail. A low chuckle came from the deep shadows in the corners of the shower. A familiar one-eyed visage appeared, as did six men, to form a loose circle around Riddick. They all maintained a respectful distance while Luthor wiped the spittle from his lips and gazed at Riddick with undisguised malice.
"Richard fucking Riddick." Luthor shook his head. "I've been waiting a fucking year to get you, you piece of shit. I thought I'd have to wait until I got out of this shithole before I could settle with your backstabbing, punk ass! Guess I was wrong, huh?"
Luthor unzipped the top of his jumpsuit to reveal a plethora of tattoos, most of them Mandarin characters, with a huge gold-silver yin-yang symbol over his heart. Heavy muscles, concealed under a respectable layer of fat, bunched under pale skin. Luthor produced a nasty-looking shank, made from a screwdriver, from his pocket and held it up before his unblinking hazel eyes.
"I'm gonna stick this in you deep, Riddick! Right in your fuckin' spine like you did to Kicks." Luthor ran a disgustingly long tongue along the shaft of the shank. "Then I'm gonna stick my cock in your ass, you sly motherfucker. That's right, bitch! I'm gonna steer you like my first ride while I fuck your ass to death!"
"Talkin' ain't doin', Luthor, and I'm getting bored." Riddick rumbled dangerously. He could feel the beginnings of dehydration burn at his throat but it only deepened the natural growl of his tone as he hunched down and ignored his own nudity which, for the moment, ranked below the fact this fight was one-sided when it came to weapons.
He twisted his body to present a smaller target with one hand close to his chest and the other extended slightly. As much as it irritated Riddick to give the fuck any credit, Luthor'd spent enough time in Slam to know how to work a shank; how to hold it and how to strike with it. He wasn't some greenie with a reverse grip trying to look tough. The pale convict was all business as he held it in a loose grip close to his hip with his opposite hand extended so that it was only half a foot from Riddick's.
"Nobody touches him unless he tries to run." Luthor growled as he began taking slow steps toward Riddick.
Then Luthor was moving forward with snake speed to slap Riddick's outstretched arm away and drive the shank forward with all his weight behind it. It was aimed for his liver but, skilled with a shank or not, it was still a glaringly obvious attack. Riddick was already blurring his other hand around to clamp around the tattooed convict's wrist. Luthor grunted in annoyance as Riddick twisted, yanked, and slipped behind the slightly shorter man's back. That grunt became a stifled scream of agony as Riddick drove the shank still griped in Luthor's hands into his navel. Riddick looked right into the shocked visage of one of Luthor's lackeys with a predatory grin as one of Luthor's hands managed to tear his goggles off.
Unfortunately for Luthor, the lights weren't bright enough to cause more than an irritating glare across Riddick's sight and hardly enough to slow him as he worked the shank around in a quick circle that had Luthor screaming for his men to help him. Then, when none approached, he resorted to begging. Riddick hated it when they begged for no other reason than the fact that they assumed he had any mercy left in him; that they assumed they were worth such a thing.
"Riddick! Stop, man! You motherfucker, it hurts! Oh fuck, it hurts!" Luthor cursed and tears began leaking from his eyes. "I'll give you whatever you want! I'll help- agh! F-f-f-" Luthor bit down to keep from crying as Riddick worked the shank in ever widening circles. "P-p-p-please, it hurts! God! Help me, you fucks!"
Luthor's pleas devolved into a long, wordless scream of agony as Riddick removed the shank only to replace it with his hand. A long loop of intestine was gripped, torn out of the body, and wrapped around Luthor's neck.
Okay, that's enough, Riddick. I think lil' Kaylee's gonna throw up.
She isn't the only one, Mal.
I thought you weren't that squeamish, 'Nara.
There's not squeamish and then there's sick, Jayne.
Bah! I'm hungry now. Anyone want some grilled cheese sandwiches?
Oh, I do!
Honey...
What? He offered.
Some sandwiches sound good, Jayne. Cook 'em up while Riddick finishes without so much detail.
You really aren't any fun at all, are you, Mal?
Riddick took some time after Luthor's goons abandoned him to shower and change. As usual, it had been easier for the prison to just leave the old plumbing in place and simply redirect the larger portion to the newer showers. They had done that with much of the old mining complex the Slam had been built around and on top of. That left miles of tunnels, shafts, bunkrooms, and offices for people to get lost in. No one ever tried because starving to death in pitch black conditions was not a way most people wanted to die.
Once he had showered and changed into the orange jumpsuit Casper had so kindly brought down, he relieved the corpse of the universal wrist-comp all prison officers were issued, and started the trek towards Andre's cellblock.
How'd ya know it was orange? Thought ya couldn't see in color?
Told you before, Jayne, different shades and tones. Got somebody to teach me the difference a long time ago.
Yeah, who's that?
Not a part of this story.
Ursa Luna was one of the few co-ed Slams left. It had been built around the central mineshaft that had been used to bring up heavy ore loads. Each hemisphere was regulated to a sex and the blocks set up from A to G on a vertical scale. The guards used a single retractable bridge to cross in a hurry but otherwise used the aboveground railcar system to get from one side to the other.
It was pure chaos when I finally got to Block A. Someone had managed to set fire to a section of that Block and the roar of flames was swamped by the roars of the cons. It was a symphony of violence. A feeding frenzy of people that thought they were apex predators. Top of the food chain. But you already know how I feel about assumptions.
Riddick made his way up to Block B without much trouble. They had cut the power and it was very dark, besides the emergency lighting and whatever light the rioting prisoners had come up with, but everyone knew who the convict with the glowing eyes was. One look and most backed away slowly with raised hands.
Pi hua (shit, nonsense). 'They backed away slowly.' You ain't hardly that intimidatin'.
You got a lot balls for a grease monkey with pigtails. You wanna hear this or not?
Andre's cell was along the far right edge of Block F where the guardrail ended and you could get a good view of several of the female cells fifty meters away. At first, Riddick thought the men standing around were trying to watch the catcalling women on the other side. Riots were usually, literally, one-sided affairs on Ursa Luna. But then he heard the voices.
"You still stickin' with that shit about you bein' wit Riddick, bitch?" A voice that sounded like the owner had been guzzling gasoline for years shouted. "Why the fuck would he bothah with a skinny cunt like you? This is my fucking Block, fish, and you're gonna learn to play ball. You listenin' ta me? Don't tell me that lil' present done fucked you up that bad? Jesus fucking Christ, what a pussy!"
Riddick quietly walked between the three supposed lookouts and shook his head slightly at the scene before him. Andre was slumped against the wall, moaning quietly, and holding his face in both hands. A lot of blood was seeping between his fingers as the pudgy, bare-chested man in front of him spat curses at him.
"Hey!" One of the lookouts had finally turned from watching the women to notice Riddick was in their midst. "Who the fuck are you?"
"Me?" Riddick turned to face him with a cocked eyebrow. "I'm the guy he's been waiting for."
The pudgy man, who probably had a surprising amount of muscle beneath that layer of fat, turned with wide eyes to face Riddick. Fear, thick and cloying, suddenly filled the air and the silver-eyed con breathed deep.
"Oh, fuck. Riddick." The lookouts, all big men, took a step back at the announcement. "Look, man, I didn't know. Honest, I didn't. I'll just get tha fuck outta here and we can forget all 'bout this, huh?"
"You know the rules. You hurt one of mine. Now I gotta take something from you. What's it gonna be? A finger? An ear? Pick something but be careful. You insult me and I'll take your fucking eye."
I thought you didn't care about anyone but yourself, Riddick.
At that point, it wasn't about Andre, Inara. You take someone under your protection in Slam and that person is a part of you. You wouldn't let someone cut on a part of you without doing something about it. That makes you look weak; vulnerable. That kind of thing has a way of following you in the kind of circles we run in.
Riddick only checked on Andre after he had sent the man away minus two of the smallest fingers on his right hand. The cut down his face wasn't too deep but it was long and would probably leave a nasty scar.
"Shit, Riddick. You came. I owe you one, man." Andre groaned as Riddick helped him to his feet and held a makeshift compress to the side of his face where the scar was close to his eye.
"You'll owe me more before the day's out." Riddick checked that the wide walkway was clear before gesturing for Andre to follow him out. "First thing we gotta do is get you to the infirmary."
"Man after my own heart." Andre mumbled as he hunched down in a ridiculous pose that had Riddick hauling him to his feet.
"You ever been in a Slam before?"
"Hell no."
"One important rule you have to learn: Always be confident. Don't slink around."
"Don't slink. Gotcha."
Andre did a passable job of looking confident on the short trip to F-Block's infirmary. Riddick knew that the staff had escaped by a monorail sled that led to the female side. Unfortunately, the entrance to the sled was blocked by an industrial-grade security door. Fortunately for Riddick, he had brought someone along who could hack it.
Ya made it seem like ya were worried about Andre, Riddick!
Two birds with one stone, Sunshine.
After a few minutes of laying under the autodoc, during which Andre cursed thanks to the very low dosage of painkiller Riddick had administered, Andre's face had been expertly stitched by the bulky machine that hovered over the bed like the mother of all spiders. Riddick was impressed that the man could hold a cold pack to his face while overriding the lockdown on the security door with one hand. Quickly, Riddick gathered up a satchel and stuffed it full of supplies they needed as the hacker worked. The door was soon open and the duo hurried down a short flight of stairs while the heavy door slid back down behind them. At the bottom of the stairs was a small platform before a cylindrical tunnel and a four-seat, flat-bottom transport sled waited for them. Andre rode shotgun and Riddick followed him into the pilot's seat. His piloting duties consisted of hitting a single button that would take the sled to the much calmer, feminine side of the prison.
The tunnel zipped by beneath lonesome flashes of light cast by the rings of spotlights that ran its length. Riddick stoically watched as the sled suddenly careened into free space. Andre started to yelp and Riddick pointed upwards to alert Andre to the fact that the monorail supplying them with power was also what was keeping them from plummeting seventy meters or so to the bottom of the shaft.
"They really went fucking crazy over there, Riddick." Andre commented on the mess they had left behind.
Riddick turned halfway in his chair and growled quietly as he watched one particularly unlucky convict, who also happened to be on fire, flail his way over the guardrail. The reflected light from the flames was visible for a long way down. Riddick turned away from the smoke, fire and violence to study the area where the sled would enter the opposite tunnel. The sled was whisper quiet and sufficiently in the shadows that, unless you knew exactly where to look, their approach was invisible to anyone from either side. Soon enough, they were hoping out onto a sister platform and up another short flight of steps.
The two escaping convicts stopped under a single, lonely light at the top of the stairs and took a moment to collect themselves. Riddick drew a combat knife he had taken off of Casper, eight centimeters of high-grade steel, and gripped the blood-stained shank he had done Luthor with in his off-hand. At his nod, Andre triggered the door release and Riddick ducked beneath the door even as it rose. He took stock of the room in a moment as he rose to his full height.
Surprisingly, there was a lone nurse in the infirmary watching an autodoc sew up a gash in an older woman's abdomen while a younger, statuesque brunette watched. The brunette, dressed in the standard jumpsuit with the top tied around her waist, whipped around at the sound of the door sliding open. Dark blue eyes met Riddick's goggled visage and then she was moving. With impressive speed, the woman charged forward and drew a wickedly curved shiv with her right hand while hurling a hastily acquired bedpan with her left. Riddick casually knocked the bedpan away and cursed to himself at underestimating his opponent's speed when he had to throw himself into a spin to avoid a stab that would have impaled his liver.
Riddick came out of his spin with a knife slash aimed at the left carotid and lifted his right leg to avoid the slash at his femoral artery when the brunette ducked into retaliation with no discernible hesitation. When his leg came down, the shank darted downward in a strike that should have taken her in the left subclavian vein. Instead, the lightning fast female dove into a roll that brought her back into sharp contact with Riddick's shins. Riddick rolled with the hit, smashing into a cart of medical supplies, and rose in a shoulder tackle that lifted the woman off her feet and into a wall three meters away. Riddick could tell the woman was stunned by the hit but she just shook her head and crouched down with her shiv at the ready.
"Nadia, enough." A languid, lightly accented, familiar voice came from the autodoc where the older woman was rising. The nurse was slumped in the chair with a syringe sticking out of the side of her neck. "Welcome back to Ursa Luna, Riddick." She smiled in the same languid manner that her voice rolled in. "I did so miss you. Will you be staying with us long?"
"Just passing through." Riddick replied as he rose from his crouch and cracked his neck. "See you got yourself a new guard dog. Think you're payin' her too much." A slight tick in the direction of his head indicated the newly stitched gash.
"And yet I still breathe and they do not." She bit off. "But, you have made a new friend as well, have you not?"
"Andre." The redhead supplied for himself though one nervous glance at the woman who'd nearly eviscerated Riddick stopped him from stepping forward and offering his hand.
"Madame Usenkov." She pointed to herself. "Good. Introductions are completed and we can talk business."
"We don't have business."
"But we do. See, for you I killed this poor, innocent girl-," she paused to pet the lifeless brunette's hair-, "-who was going to trip the silent alarm and now you owe me."
"Didn't ask for the favor."
"But you have received it nonetheless. That and I did stop Nadia here from killing you."
"I'm not bleeding."
"And neither is she but you waste both of our times. This time, you will take me and Nadia with you. I am tired of the stench in these walls."
"And if I don't?"
"Then I sic Nadia back on you and trip the silent alarm myself."
Riddick briefly weighed his options. He didn't so easily discount Nadia's particular skill-set, not with the last demonstration so fresh in his mind, and Madame Usenkov and her connections with the cartels within the system could prove endlessly beneficial.
"Can't keep up, don't step up." He again gestured to her newly repaired abdomen.
"I wonder, do you have a book just full of these trite sayings?"
Riddick ignored the jab and looked to Nadia. "And you?"
"I understand." Her voice rolled in the same thick accent as Usenkov's from a full mouth that wasn't too pouty or too stern; slightly tilted eyes to give the touch of the exotic; an athletically curvy figure; and the Ursa Terra accent that was a remnant of their Earth-That-Was ancestry would leave many a man at her mercy.
I think you might wanna move on there, Riddick. The Bit looks like she's going to break her teeth; she's grindin' them so hard.
She's the one that wanted this story.
Wasn't that the name of the woman that Dev and Mikki were talking about? The one that tried to kill you?
Yeah, Zoe. That was the first time but not the last. She was good too; got closer than most, more than once even.
You ever meet a person that didn't want to kill you?
Could ask you the same question, Mal.
Moving through the women's section with Usenkov in tow let us make faster time. The woman's side of the gap was deceptively calm but I knew that, behind those solid cell doors, those women were just as vicious as any male con. Usenkov was the top dog and even the hacks would follow her orders to look the other way so Andre and I could follow behind. There was only one slight road bump when a couple of feng le cons told her to shove it up her ass. By the time I rounded the corner, Nadia had dispatched them with hardly a sound.
And here I thought River was the only one that could give you a run for your money, Riddick.
There's a few years between that man and this man, Mal. Nadia had skills but I'm still here and she's not. I'll give her the credit she deserves though. She was one of the best.
Riddick dropped down the last meter of the ladder to the water reclamation maintenance locker and landed in a crouch he could launch himself from at a moment's notice. The room was empty though and Riddick banged on the wall to let the others know it was clear. Usenkov came down first, already breathing hard by the time she made it to the white-tiled floor; then Andre and finally Nadia, who closed the hatch behind her.
"Andre, you know what to do." The hacker nodded and went to the small terminal set-up on the other side of the room.
"What are we doing here, Riddick?" Usenkov asked from the seat she had taken next to the lockers with Nadia standing ever vigilant beside her.
"Ship I came in on is still here; gonna take it back out."
Usenkov laughed in what she probably thought was a charming fashion but set Riddick's nerves on edge. "Always so reluctant to share information. I want to know what we're doing here."
"Too many doors and locks and surveillance to get back to the hangar. All ships plug into the water line and that's what we're breaking into."
"Isn't it full of water?"
"It cycles. Was gonna use it the last time but I didn't have anyone to override the locks and trigger a manual cycle. We've got five minutes when all the seals and locks are open and the sensors in the main pipe don't work. Anyone left in the pipe after that better learn how to breathe underwater."
"How far is it?"
"Little less than a kilometer."
Usenkov's breath quickened at that and Riddick could smell the fear on her then, intermingled with a bit of blood and pus that had already started seeping through her stitches. He doubted she'd make the run but she wasn't his problem either; she was Nadia's.
"Got it. You guys ready?" Andre called from the thick hatch that led into the pipe.
The three cons joined the hacker and Riddick nodded, "Do it."
Andre pushed the button and the thick clamps disengaged their hold on the corners of the hatch. Riddick spun the wheel and pushed the door open with a muted grunt to reveal a slimy tunnel roughly three meters high.
"Get moving." Riddick grunted the order and waited until all three were inside before slamming the hatch shut. He didn't waste any time on following as soon as the hatch was sealed behind them and easily passed Usenkov and Nadia to catch up with Andre.
"How much time?"
"Four-fifteen." Andre counted off from the running clock in his head.
"Pick it up." Riddick barked.
It was when they were halfway across the gap, judging by the change of the echo in the water pipe, that Usenkov's body gave out on her. Frankly, Riddick was surprised the older woman had made it as far as she had given her injury.
"Wait! Riddick!" The woman called. "Stop! I can't-"
Riddick craned his neck around and slowed his pace to see the pair of women more than several paces back; the older half supported by the younger.
"Time." Riddick asked a panting Andre.
"One-thirty."
"If you want to live, Nadia, you'd better run."
She hesitated for a moment, but then Riddick heard faintly, "I will not die for you."
Oh, Riddick how could you? Ya just left her!
She knew what she signed up for. She's not worth your pity, Kaylee. I got to know the Madame during my first stint when, in exchange for an oxygen tank for my suit, she ordered me to cut off her underboss' balls and leave him alive.
Oh.
Riddick dogged the hatch to the maintenance locker beneath the hangar and turned to the others. Andre was seated on a bench in front of the lockers with his head hanging between his knees. Nadia stood and stared at Riddick with those cold green eyes, barely a hitch in her breath. He was impressed despite himself.
"Gotta keep moving, Andre." Riddick passed Nadia with a short nod and thought he saw a flash of relief cross her face.
Betcha woulda left her ass behind if ya'd known she'd only keep tryin' to kill ya.
Doubt it. Another problem for another day, Cobb. Wasn't gonna be any clean way off that rock this time. Like I said, Nadia had skills, and I was about to board and steal a ship from a crew of mercs. Better to take a knife into a gunfight than nothing at all. Worse case, she'd be another target, and mean one less pair of eyes on me.
Riddick led the way to a smaller hatch near the lockers and opened it to reveal a cramped corridor. The floor was a grate and, at regular intervals, broken by cylindrical inlet/outlet pipes where docked ships could plug in to the water system. Riddick passed the giant tube, which took up almost the entire corridor, of the supply ship and finally came to where the much smaller tube that belonged to the cruiser connected. A dual set of ladders on both sides of the corridor led up to a recessed pit where the belly of the cruiser rested while it was being serviced. The entire docking area was deserted, on lockdown for the duration of the riot or at least until it could be somewhat quelled. Riddick could only guess that Luthor's death and the power vacuum it had left only added to the chaos that had been brewing when they first arrived. He didn't waste any time climbing to the cramped work area above them.
The external sensors on the hull were deactivated when the ship was put into general maintenance mode and it was child's play for Andre to access the emergency hatch that led to the internal maintenance corridors within the cruiser. Riddick was the first to step into the even more tightly packed corridor and lead the way deeper into the vessel. The temperature dropped as they walked and finally came to a halt in front of another access hatch. The metal was icy to the touch and wisps of cold air escaped from around the seal. Riddick pulled it open and gestured for them to get inside. Andre looked at him incredulously, already shivering, before sighing and easing himself down the insulated ladder. Nadia went down without a word or even a glance in his direction. Riddick went down himself, carefully closing the hatch behind him, and immediately set to work.
Riddick had led them to the tiny compartment that housed the ship's supply of cryo-drugs and, to save precious space, engine coolant tanks. It was kept slightly above freezing but not by much and the cold would have killed them in a few hours if Riddick hadn't prepared. Several sheets of insulating blanket cordoned off a section of the room, including the floor, just large enough for their three bodies to fit inside. Thermal packs were activated and liberally scattered around them. Andre blanched when Riddick started to remove his clothing after sealing their hideaway.
"What are you doing?"
"We need to warm this space up. Being naked will do it faster." Riddick said as he continued to undress. Andre only followed suit when Nadia nodded and began removing her jumpsuit.
We spent ten hours huddled there, waiting for the Slam hacks to clear the ship for take-off. Knew they wouldn't bother to spot search an entire cruiser. Why would they when they could just sweep the place with their internal scanners for any heat sources. The exterior of our little hideaway would read as room temperature and they wouldn't have a fucking clue.
Nadia wasn't much for talking but Andre never fucking stopped. Eventually, she talked just to shut him the fuck up, I think. Turns out, Usenkov had been feeding the Feds for years in order to cut her time. Shit like that doesn't get kept a secret for long and someone found out. The Feds she'd been helping dropped her and left her to rot.
So why was Nadia helping her then?
One of the older of the crime families Usenkov had ratted on just happened to be one of the ones Nadia had her own grudge with. They'd set her up to take a fall because they thought it went against God for women to kill. As if God gives a fuck what a killer has between their legs. The enemy of your enemy isn't your friend but they're close enough in the right moment.
And in the wrong?
In the wrong, Inara, they leave you to die in a flooding water pipe.
So what happened once the ship was cleared?
What do you think happened, Jayne? We had tea and fucking finger sandwiches. Once we were out of orbit, Nadia made herself useful, we took care of the mercs and Andre held his shit together well enough to hack the ship's computer and arrange for some of his friends to come and rendezvous with us. Blew the cruiser in a ghost lane and got the fuck off the grid.
Riddick stood in the hold of an ancient Trans-U and stoically examined the ceiling high stacks of weapons and ammunition piled alongside various other things related to weapons manufacturing that he could not readily name. The three escaped convicts were standing in front of a pair of men dressed in leather clothing and their own seemingly original interpretation of the faux-Browncoat look that was becoming all the rage in the Mid-Rim these days. Only the one with the buzz-cut's coat was an eye bleeding electric blue, while the one with the fake eye-patch wore a much more subdued green snakeskin version. Riddick wasn't willing to underestimate the pair despite their ridiculous attire; not with the number of gun bulges he counted beneath the coats.
"Easy, Dev-," Andre tried to placate the dark-skinned one with the buzzcut, "-I'll vouch for both of them. They're just lookin' to hitch a ride. Seriously, if it wasn't for Riddick, I'd be somebody's bitch by now."
"Don't really give a shit." Dev shook his head slightly. "Rules don't change. I'd make the Devil himself hand over his fucking pitchfork before I'd let that mutherfucker into my house with a weapon."
Riddick wasn't entirely sure what to make of the pair but sometimes the odds spoke for themselves and he didn't just break out of Slam to be popped full of holes by a bunch of gunrunners. He unbuckled his newly acquired gun belt without compliant and ejected the heavy magazine from Han's former rifle. Nadia removed the twin repeaters from her shoulder holsters, the shotgun from her back, and the pistol from her hip. One of the gunhands came up and gathered their weapons while another patted them down.
"Shit, Mikki. Maybe the stories about him ain't true." Dev sauntered closer and shook his head. "Thought the Riddick we'd heard about would be taller." He turned back to his partner with a smirk. "This pussy can't possibly handle the jobs we got. Maybe that cold-eyed bitch has bigger balls-"
Whatever else he had been about to say was stopped cold as Riddick was suddenly there, hand wrapped around his throat, and the point of a shiv a centimeter from his eyeball. The gunhand was on his knees with his hands on his throat as he recovered from the punch Riddick had delivered there. He could hear scuffling behind him and assumed Nadia had taken her own hostage while Andre was probably shitting himself at the unexpected turn of events.
"Let him go!" Mikki screamed, the barrel of his sidearm a mere centimeter form Riddick's own head.
"Just proving a point." Riddick slowly released the wide-eyed weapons merchant and let the shiv drop from his hand as he raised them both in supplication.
"Alright, Mikki, calm down! He let Dev go!" Andre yelled to the room at large. "For fuck's sake, Nadia, let him go, too! We're good, everything's just fine. Everybody's gonna calm the fuck down."
"Fuck you, Andre!" Dev spat as he rubbed his throat. "I told them to give up all their mutherfuckin' weapons!"
"What? That?" Riddick shrugged. "Just a personal grooming device." He explained with a barely perceptible smirk on his lips.
Mikki's head quirked to the side immediately and he let out a small chuckle. "I like this one."
"Yeah, well. keep them eyes in your damn head." Dev retorted as he crossed his arms and eyed the smirking escapee before him. "You two looking for some work?"
"What kind of work?" Nadia asked.
"The kind that'll pay out with a new set of IDs." Dev informed her. "Then we'll talk coin. Coin and contracts."
"My two favorite words." Nadia agreed.
"And you, big boy?" Dev asked Riddick. "You in or am I dumping your ass first bit of dirt we pass?"
"Just one question."
"That is?"
"What've you got to eat on this ship?"
Worked a dozen or so jobs for them over the next year, usually for coin or guns. Andre wrote up the first set of IDs they paid me with and, after I finished my contracts with Mikki and Dev, he ran contacts for me. Made him a shitload on finder's fees.
But why'd Nadia keep trying to kill you though? She kinda owed you for helpin' her break out.
Business. We were both professionals. She had a knack for keeping underworld heavy-hitters alive and got paid well for it. Sometimes, I was sent to kill the ones she was guarding. Besides all that, I think she was a little pissed I was better than her and she couldn't do it the first time.
Fucking women.
Really, Jayne?
Aw, know I didn't mean you, babe.