Summary: Jack goes on 'vacation'.

Rating: T for some language and violence
Time Line: Eight years after Pitch Black, five years after Layover. So Jack -by revisionist standards- would be approx. 23 years old.

Legal Disc: The characters of Jack and Riddick from the movie Pitch Black are the property of USA Films. No copyright infringement is intended.

Italics indicate flashbacks

Part 1

Cronus Passenger L Class Cruiser hovered in space-dock, listing from the weight of passengers boarding on the port side. Mrs. A. Liszka sat on her luggage, watching the first class passengers stand stiffly in line, trying to impress one another. It was all a joke really. People with real money had their own Private Class cruisers. These people were a mixture of new money and even worse, upper middle class wannabes.
Many of them were wearing ridiculously expensive designer clothes; you could tell because they were the sort of combinations no one else would be caught dead wearing. It was a fashion show, combining the ostentatious offerings of the ultra 'chic' designers and the equally flashy, but twice as frightening knock offs. And they all stood there, acting as if they owned the world. If only they had known just how ridiculous they all looked.
After the last FC passenger haughtily strolled in, Mrs. Liszka stood up and picked up her bags. She only had two; a large duffel bag and a smaller carry-on. Federal Cruising Regulations didn't allow for soft luggage to be checked into cargo. The duffel wasn't very heavy; it was stuffed with clothes and a couple of compartments filled with necessities. The carry-on held food. She was second class. Boarding pass in hand, she slung the duffel over her shoulder and approached the gate.

She handed the ticket to the clerk and walked down the long passageway to the ship itself. Stepping on board, she could feel the hum of the engines beneath her feet. She was directed to the starboard side and led by a steward down the stairs two levels below the promenade deck. Her cabin was at the end of a short hallway. The steward unlocked the door and handed her the keycard. He didn't bother to show her the room itself; she figured it was because second class travelers didn't tip well. She kicked the door forward with her foot, to allow herself room enough to fit in. Once inside, she had to place the duffel on the bed and stand aside for the door to slam shut. She didn't mind the small size so much. She felt the give of a square hatch underneath her feet and smiled. She looked around the cabin for light switches; at this price, nothing was voice activated.

Planet side, James Liszka sat at the kitchen counter, eating breakfast. The sun was rising and the birds in the nest outside were chirping excitedly. Several hours ago, his wife of three years had left for a vacation-without him. In the past months they hadn't been getting along. Who was he kidding, their entire relationship, marriage and all had been stormy at best. She was just as stubborn and closed mouthed as he was, which made for a lot of short, unfinished arguments. He hadn't even seen her off. Earlier that morning, he uttered the mandatory catch phrases - 'be careful', 'have a good time' and stay in touch' but frankly he was glad for the time alone. He watched with indifference as she had left the house for the shuttle to Port Elizabeth. She wasn't even to the end of the walkway when he closed the door and went back to bed. And besides, today was his day off; he was going to spend it with his pals, going to the Baolo game and getting drunk. And for the first time in three years, there was no one around to complain about it, or worse yet, ask to come along.

The giant door on Cronus Two-A14 slowly slid shut, sealing the inside from the space outside. Docking clamps were released, and thrusters guided the heavy cruiser away from the dock. The captains' voice crackled over the intercom, announcing departure. Mrs. Liszka stood on the promenade deck with the other passengers. They were all waving to friends and family, smiling and taking pictures. She scanned the crowd, looking for a familiar face. Not finding it, she decided that she had made the right decision. She turned her gaze instead to the scene around them as the ship eased out of port.
Port Elizabeth was one of the busiest ports in this quadrant, a midpoint for passengers and industrial materials alike. It was a bit like the ancient railroads in Old Chicago. Everyone had to stop there before continuing on. No matter what direction they were going. Departure was a delicate process. They were moving at quarter-thrusters; a ship this size couldn't exactly 'turn around' in port. In fact it couldn't even adjust course to avoid collision. That left all responsibility to other pilots to get out of the way. That didn't always work out, so a team of thirty traffic controllers was on duty, twenty-seven hours a day.

The entire departure took an hour and a half. Luxury class passenger cruisers always got first priority on departures. Otherwise, they wouldn't have departed for another three hours. Show over, Mrs. Liszka wandered around the ship settling in the dining room. Food was already available, and more than a few people were taking advantage of the fact that there were no lines at the buffets. She picked up a plate, and picked out something to eat and took a table by the window. It would be another hour before hyper-jump.
That was the main difference between this liner and Hunts-Gratzner; they had hyper jump capabilities, HG didn't. That's what made it so expensive. By tomorrow morning they would be in the Caribbean Belt, named because of the many planets covered in sandy beaches; all well stocked with Hadrian Tequila. It was a popular destination. At any given time, there were tens of millions of tourists seeing the sites or relaxing. It was a perfect place to start.
"Do you mind if I sit down?" a voice startled Mrs. Liszka out of her reverie. She looked up to see a man holding a plated heaped with food. Glancing around, she could see the other tables had become occupied. Damn.
"Yeah, sure." She gestured to one of the chairs and he sat down. He was an older man, dressed in what was probably his Sunday suit. It was light blue with green pinstripes. The tie matched the blue satin shirt underneath.
"My wife is trying to decide if she wants Flavian salmon, or Alexander beef. I had a hard time deciding myself. In fact, I had such a hard time, I took some of both!" He chuckled at his own humor. Mrs. Liszka produced a semi-interested smile. A woman, somewhere in her sixties waddled to the table. She wasn't fat; most likely her shoes were killing her. These were old timers; they dressed up to travel.
"Well, hello!" the woman grinned, "Has my husband introduced himself, or did he just sit down and start eating?" she plopped into her chair, setting the plate on the lime green tablecloth. As suspected, the woman reached underneath the table and pried her shoes from her feet. Her husband, looking appropriately chastised, couldn't say anything-his mouth was full of food.
"Well, I'm Janet Hogglesworth, and this happily chewing piglet is my husband, Martin." She extended her hand.
"My name is Jacqueline Liszka, but everyone calls me Jack. Nice to meet you." They shook hands politely, as if meeting at Sunday school.
"Will your husband be joining us?" Janet inquired, looking at Jack's wedding ring. Jack smiled, hiding her irritation at not having taken it off. She leaned forward and with a conspiratorial look on her face, said:
"Nope…I'm on vacation." There was an awkward silence. Janet and Martin looked at her as if she had sprouted a third eye. Then they both burst into peals of laughter. It was so loud it echoed across half the dining room. Jack laughed too.
"I'm sorry. Jack. I don't mean to laugh at you. But it reminds me of a time when I did the same thing." Janet giggled as she spoke. "Say no more. I understand perfectly!" she kept giggling as she started to eat, making it hard for her to chew with her mouth closed. Martin was trying to keep from choking on his food. Jack giggled as Janet described the events that led up to their trial separation seventeen years ago. It was a funny story, the way she told it. Jack was almost sorry she wouldn't get to see more of them. They were genuinely nice people, and she liked them. No point getting maudlin, she thought. They're strangers. After the cruise, you wouldn't ever see them again anyway.

The Hoggleworths had retired for the evening several hours ago. Jack wandered about the ship, making sure she was seen. She stopped and talked to several fellow travelers, even taking pictures for them and their friends. She went into the onboard gift shop and purchased a few necessities; mainly deodorant, water bottles, nonperishable food stuffs, and a navy blue oversized tote that locked, telling the cashier she expected to make a lot of purchases.
Back in her cabin, she changed clothes. That done, she pulled her purchases out of the bag and started transferring a few changes of clothing into the new tote. She put the food into the carry all with the food she had brought with her. Opening the duffel, she dug into the compartments holding her 'necessities' - a sonic screwdriver, a frequency enabler, a roll of wire and a wire cutter. The compartments were lined with titanium paper, so everything had gone undetected at check in.
The bed was a fold out, so she lifted it and locked it in position. On the wall just underneath was a control panel. She opened her frequency enabler and punched in a generic code. A few seconds later, five numbers blipped on the screen. She pressed the enable button and the panel opened. Once the panel was open, she sat cross leged on the floor and started sorting wires and tracing comman relays. Grabbing the sonic screwdriver, she began to work.
Fifteen minutes later, she had completed her task. She looked at her work with pride. Relays had been rewired and in some cases disconnected. The stand-alone programming had been changed altogether. To the untrained eye, nothing would look different. James would have been proud of her. She had just bypassed the automatic alarm system. Now she could leave without alarms sounding on the bridge. In fact, the departure wouldn't even show up on the emergency displays. She closed the panel and put her tools into the blue tote. She pulled the ship itinerary out of her carry on. They would come out of hyper drive at about four am. It was just now 9:00pm.
Taking a step back, she opened the panel in the floor and pressed the release button. The hatch slid open; Jack sat on her haunches, waiting. There were no alarms, no lights beeping, and no voice over the comm asking what she was doing. Satisfied, Jack threw the two bags down the narrow shaft. It was well lit, but narrow. She climbed down and once in, she pressed the close button and the hatch slid shut, locking automatically.
At the bottom, she had to reposition herself to use the frequency enabler to unlock the emergency shuttle. After ten minutes of program manipulation, the hatch was unlocked. It slid open and her bags dropped like two lead weights, clanging on the metal floor below. She held tightly to a rung as she turned a slow, cramped somersault to bring herself right side up. She closed the hatch and climbed the rest of the way down.
She stowed the food in an overhead bin. Taking her tools out once again, she stowed the tote in another small storage space behind the pilot seat. It was a nice sized ship. It had room enough for one pilot and three passengers. Swiveling the pilot seat out of the way, she lay on the floor and scooted back until she could get to the control panel underneath.
It was a daunting task, not because she didn't know what to do, but because she was so cramped. It took the better part of three hours to remove the transponder and reset the command program to function without it. All those months watching James had paid off.
Jack jerked awake, sleepy and a little disoriented. Her neck hurt from sleeping in the pilots' seat. There was a low whine in the cruiser engines, signaling the return to normal flight mode. She immediately began a preflight check. She had done one hours earlier, but better safe than sorry. Riddick had taught her that. When the cruiser shuddered out of hyper drive, she pulled the detach lever and let the shuttle fall away from the departing ship. She counted to fifty before powering up the engines and setting coordinates for New Jamaica. She would be there in less than an hour. By the time they even missed the emergency shuttle, it would already be on the ground in a chop shop, being prepared for resale.

James had taught her that.