...they say most of your brain shuts down in cryosleep. All but the primitive side-the animal side...
To be caught in the moment, helpless, it was infuriating. But all he could do was ride it out.
Darkness, pulsing and strong. Pressure pushing down on his optic nerves until flares of brilliant color were bursting behind his eyes.
The ship was crashing -
...you never forget that sensation of weightless tumbling while metal screams and bends around you...
- and all he felt was weary amusement.
Been there. Done that. He'd always been the one to walk away.
Solid impact. He felt it ripple through him and out. Dim echo of ship's alarms wailing.
"Warning. Hull breech. Warning. Left quadrant flooding with salt water. Warning. Hull breech. Warning."
Nonsense babble considering the crew was tucked away in their cryo-lockers, unable to respond.
But he heard it. He listened.
And in his mind, the animal laughed.
What a world.
* . * . *
The Kaiju were a menace, one that kept growing stronger with every victory. It was to the point that scientists were predicting the death of all native life on Earth.
The world was becoming a Kaiju paradise and it was taking a toll on everybody.
Dumping the Jaeger program so publicly had not been a good idea. It had been the slamming of a door that never should have been fully closed. But the UN was full of hurt feelings and the American representative had reacted like the asshole he was. Typical politician, willing to let the world burn just to get a point across.
There was a struggle happening to save the human race, yet even now some people refused to take the threat seriously.
Safe far inland, living in their armored bunkers and underground palaces, they sneered at the idea of spending money to save all life on Earth. It was better to wait until things reached catastrophic levels before reacting like fools.
Discard the one thing that had worked so far. Then build a wall. Let the Jaegers' ranks dwindle until they were useless. Sell the program.
And why?
All for the sake of a dream dredged up from the depths of the ocean, the Genie's Lamp. A spaceship.
The ship had broken into pieces, not that they'd realized it when the first section was found. It had been large enough they'd assumed it was most of the ship. And they'd found the crew.
Dead of course, their strange floating beds unable to stand the pressure of the crash and impact with the water.
The coffin-beds had cracked and the occupants had died. There was nothing anyone could do for them.
But the technology... it revolutionized everything. It breathed hope into people that were lacking it.
The first bit of wreckage had been discovered a month after Trespasser had torn up a large chunk of the western seaboard. It was found by a salvage company and quickly confiscated by the government.
An alien ship filled with all kinds of technological marvels. Including what was to become Drift technology.
The propaganda story was a lie, or at least a stretch of the truth. Scientists were working on Pons technology, but it wasn't going anywhere. Until they got a look at the strange apparatus joining the minds of the aliens together.
Even damaged and lacking in some components, scientists were able to reverse-engineer the technology. Drifting was successfully achieved.
The Jaegers were born. They did their duty. They saved lives and defended the coasts. The Jaeger pilots were heroes, their sacrifice one to be recognized, but the cost of giant fighting robots was astronomical.
And with the discovery of the Genie's Lamp... the Jaegers died.
Because the section of alien spaceship they'd found was the size of a small city. Massive to the point that there was serious consternation that it hadn't been found before.
Using Jaeger tech, the ship was tugged close enough to shore that a pier could be built and scientists could find their way inside.
Indescribable wonders were found amongst the grim gold panoply. The spaceship must have belonged to a warrior race, because there was a treasure trove of weapons. Things that could do damage on a planetary scale.
Humanity had the means by which to fight back. Hopefully without turning the Pacific Ocean into a crater of glass.
Production of the "Big Honking Space Guns" was commenced, not leaving resources for much else.
The wall would give them safety from the Kaiju Blue the ocean was going to be spread with once they started blasting Kaiju into vapor. They might even be able to cultivate fish once they had a clean area of water. The wall would at least give the public time to reach proper shelter.
The spaceship had given them a bounty of hope and devastating weaponry. They had barely broken into the first levels of the Genie's Lamp, and already it had helped save the Earth.
They dug deeper to see what other wonders they could discover.
* . * . *
A cryo-locker had a bit of life to it. As long as it remained undamaged it could maintain its passenger for a little over six months while separated from main power.
And when that time gave up, it blew its hatches and released its passenger. To survive or die, that was up to circumstance.
Six months after the crash, all the seals broke. Everyone that was going to wake up did. The others... They drowned in their sleep, never realizing what had happened.
A mass of crew assembled. Lords and ladies wandered around in a flutter of confusion. The gravity generators were offline. The floor slanted worryingly. People were shouting to be heard, wanting to know what had happened.
"Shut up!"
Instinct had driven them to the throne room. The Riddick was there.
Lord Marshal of the Necromongers, shirtless and with his beasts prowling around his legs. It was not a comforting sight.
But he was their Lord Marshal. He spoke, and they obeyed.
Silence spread. They waited for him to guide them.
.
It amused Riddick every time he saw those Necros bow their stiff necks and submit. He could kill every single one of them, and it was his choice to refrain. They had given themselves to him, and those that had fought had died.
Such was the way of these living undead. They walked around, waiting for him to ghost them, loving the taste of death. It disgusted him nearly as much as it amused him, and sometimes he wondered if they realized what they had brought into their midst. What kind of man he wasn't.
They bowed and worshiped him, turned to him for answers as their precious Lord Marshal.
He sometimes wondered how hard they would fight back if he decided to kill them.
"The Basilica has crash landed on an uncharted world." He stroked his hand over the head of Precious, his favorite hell hound. She made a growling chirrup of pleasure, pressing back against his palm. "Most systems are offline, though at least we've got life support."
He grinned, knowing it looked unpleasant. "Big sections of the ship are flooded. If we can't get things fixed, I hope everyone can swim."
"I've already issued orders to emergency work crews." Commander Siberius Vaako strode into the throne room. He seemed completely unbothered by the wildly tilted floor and his uniform looked as neatly put together as always.
Riddick couldn't help a sense of pleasure when he saw the First of Commanders. "I thought you'd done bought it. Your quarters are in the section that's flooded." Riddick looked around. "Where's your Dame?"
Vaako's lips pulled tight. "Dead. Our quarters are flooded. She drowned before I woke up."
"Pity." Riddick bit back the comment about witches melting in water. He needed Vaako; now wasn't the time to antagonize the man. Never mind that he squirmed so pretty.
"There's a lot of work to do," Riddick said, "and not much time to do it. You handle getting things working in here, Vaako. I'll be taking a squad to see what's happening topside."
"Should you not wait, milord?" A noble in a dragonskin dress asked. Her blond hair was mussed from her hurried escape from her quarters. The lace hem of her dress still dripped water, though her expression was controlled.
Riddick bared his teeth in a smile. "We ain't got much choice. The way we're slanted, we're half outta the water. And I hear rats scratching to get in.
"I don't much plan to let a bunch of scavengers dismantle this ship. Not when it's our only means off this rock."
"We'll get systems back online." Vaako gave a bow of his head. There was a clench to his jaw that suggested he would rather Riddick stay to handle the repairs while he took the scouting squad. But he wouldn't think to question the Lord Marshal in public.
Sometimes it's nice to have a zealot, Riddick mused. "Get this ship able to fly. Rescue those that need rescuing. I'll handle our rat problem."
A chorus of voices responded, "Yes Lord Marshal."
* . * . *
Grief was a strange thing, strong enough to work delicate tendrils of emotion through Vaako's mind. Dulled by Purification, the grief was still there, twined through his chest until his breath caught in a hitching gasp.
His dame had been a contentious bitch and that's what he'd respected most about her. So for her to have died in her sleep ... It was an ignoble death and it bothered him. She'd deserved something better, grander.
He focused his mind on the task at hand. They were to get ship's systems back online, which meant a trip to the auxiliary bridge, as the main bridge was currently flooded with seawater.
If they were lucky, the capsule of the auxiliary bridge would still be intact. Otherwise they'd have to activate the vacuum pumps, which were a bitch to get started.
Just like you, my love, he thought in fondness. Hard to get started, quick to cool, and so full of schemes and secrets that it was hard to breathe around her. His beautiful, deadly wife.
Vaako grit his teeth and led his squad in through the bowels of the ship. It was safer than using the main passages and coming across flooded compartments they would have to work around. The system of tubes was a tight fit, but they'd all trained in crawling and keeping their heads down. The feeling of oxygen deprivation was all psychological, and they were outfitted with rebreathers if it got to be too much.
His kneecaps were grateful for the reinforced knees of his trousers as he shuffled along through the darkness.
There were panting breaths and the jingle of equipment belts from behind him. His soldiers kept the techs moving and Vaako didn't worry about anyone turning back.
They were Necromongers. Fearless and merciless.
Til Underverse Come.
* . * . *
Precious stalked in front of the squad with a wary swagger, her sisters clicking along after her, the smallest bringing up the rear with a subvocal growl. The hell hounds understood they were hunting interlopers. They were as territorial as he was.
The emergency lighting was bright enough that he kept his goggles on. He figured they'd be coming across survivors or scavengers with flashlights. All he needed was a bright beam seared straight into his eyes.
Riddick followed Precious up the tilted corridor. The further they went, the more uphill the climb seemed to get. when he paused to listen, he could hear the sound of the rats working to get in. The machine squeal of metal being cut through was a distinctive sound.
His lips peeled back from his teeth in a snarl. The idea that his ship was being disassembled by those scavenger rats gave him a desire to start removing heads.
He prowled through the abandoned halls with their cathedral ceilings and flung furniture. He led the way along the winding corridors of the housing quarters, each hatch seamlessly the same with only a number to differentiate them. He could feel the occupants watching him as he passed. Non-essential personal had been confined to quarters and were waiting for orders through their Screens. Their attention fairly hummed against his nerves and he knew they were watching him through their Screens.
How they could let themselves be pushed aside and relegated to spectators in their own lives he couldn't understand. They were putting all their trust in others to keep them safe.
They were sheep. Useful, but sheep nonetheless.
"Move faster," he growled and picked up the pace. Precious smoothly flowed into a trot, sensing they needed more speed.
The rats tearing away at his ship needed to be punished for their trespass. His blood surged at the thought of some bloodshed. There'd been very little challenge to him in recent months.
He needed a good fight.
* . * . *
Once he'd set the crews to getting systems online, Vaako went about riffling through the nav charts. They needed some idea of where they were for when they were capable of blowing off this rock.
He monitored the coms while he worked, organizing his various repair crews. It was probably a task for a lower ranked commander, but he'd assigned them priority tasks and there was no reason to change things now.
It was make work and he needed it. Otherwise he would focus on the death of his dame, of the surprised blankness on her face. He wondered if she'd thought of him while drowning, still sleeping peacefully while she died helplessly in her cryo-locker.
It turned his stomach. Such an inelegant way for her to die. She'd deserved more.
He paused on an unfamiliar nav reading and called up the correlating star chart. He zoomed to have it fill the Screen and hissed a breath between his teeth.
They had somehow deviated from their flight path and entered the Uncharted Territories. They were at the ass end of the universe where only pirates dared to skirt.
Even if they sent out a distress call, the only ones likely to answer were brigands and thieves. It would be better if they repaired the ship themselves-if it were possible. There were very few friends of the Necromongers, and he didn't imagine there would be any in the UT.
They were on their own and he couldn't help wondering where the rest of the fleet was. Here somewhere with them, or well on their way to the Threshold. It was a mystery that bothered him, though there wasn't much he could do until they got the ship to some kind of working order.
One task at a time, he thought.
They would get life support back online, save who they could, repair the ship, then they'd get off this rock and find the fleet. He had to trust that the Lord Marshal would see them through without trying to escape.
Otherwise it was the duty of the First Among Commanders to ensure that the Lord Marshal led the Necromongers to victory, even if he had to personally drag Riddick through the role.
Siberius Vaako took his duties seriously.
* . * . *
Leaving two soldiers to guard the hatch, they'd sealed it behind them and headed toward where the scavengers were cutting their way in from the Antechamber. Riddick could hear the furious sound of machinery working and it drew his lip back from his teeth in a snarl that Precious echoed.
He may not have celebrated his role as Lord Marshal, but that didn't mean anyone was free to take what was his. And the Basilica was his ship. His dangerous deadly toy that he didn't want to share.
"They didn't even say please."
"Milord?"
Riddick gave the pale young soldier a flat look and liked the spark of fear in those eyes. Purification dulled emotions, but didn't quite take them all away. Necromongers still had the capacity to fear. He liked playing with that.
"Come on," he said, waving them onward. The rats were only a few compartments away. It was as good a time as any for a violent confrontation.
Soon even the Necromongers could hear the cutters working. He was amused at the way they snapped to attention.
They were all so eager to serve him, even as the lords and ladies schemed to knock him off his throne. It kept him on edge, right where he needed to be.
He could see the sparks where the cutter was grinding through the wall, creating a large archway. Big enough for all kinds of machinery to squeeze through.
Whoever the rats were, they were intent on stripping the Basilica bare. They hadn't even bothered to check for survivors.
"Lundgren," Riddick growled. The red haired man snapped to attention, his helmeted head turning toward the Lord Marshal. "You cut them down when they come through. No mercy."
"Yes, Lord Marshal. No mercy from the Necromongers," Lundgren said. He was a good soldier. Obedient.
"You, you, you, with me." Riddick jerked his thumb and they followed. "We're using the emergency service hatch. We'll surprise them on the other side.
"Yes, Lord Marshal."
He smirked. They were all good soldiers.
* . * . *
"This is impossible." Vaako sat back hard in his desk chair.
He didn't want to believe, but he'd had his results checked twice.
They had crossed the Threshold.
The Lord Marshal should have taken his shuttle into the abyss, but something had gone wrong. The Basilica had jerked out of parking orbit while they were still preparing for the ceremonial feast. It had been navigated straight into the wormhole.
"And the unworthy all died." He huffed a humorless laugh and dug his fingers into his leg.
He drew in a deep breath and stood. He had a job to do.
The Lord Marshal would protect the ship while Vaako would get it running again. He began issuing commands to his aides and they crafted the orders to be sent out to the lower ranks.
His soldiers were counting on him. He would not fail them.
Vaako vowed to survive this Test and prove that he deserved a place with the Most Holy. Though he was unworthy of the honor, he would not turn away from this challenge. He was Faithful.
The Lord Marshal would serve as an anchor point. He would guide them through this test and carry them to the other side. As long as they believed in him and let him lead them, they would survive.
Vaako chose to believe. He would not allow fear to have a place in his heart. He would perform his duty. He was a Necromonger. He was Faithful.
He curled his fingers into fists and refused to admit that his hands were shaking. It must have been excitement.
* . * . *
The emergency service hatch was a tight squeeze. Riddick couldn't imagine anyone using the claustrophobic little tunnel for anything more than a real emergency. It opened up in a closet-sized cabin with a door lock Riddick had to use his universal override on to release.
Necromongers didn't seem overly concerned with comfort and personal safety.
Precious pressed up against his hand and he scratched her cheek ridges as they waited for the others.
If it had been him alone he would have picked off the rats one by one until there were none left. With his squad of Necros at his beck and call, he figured they could make things a bit more exciting.
"We'll keep some alive," he said. "There's no reason we shouldn't find out all we can about this rock we've landed on. I ain't planning on lingering long, but if they kick up too much of a fuss I might let you convert the locals."
He could practically smell the heightened interest. Necros were always hot to go out Converting, spreading their religion across the universe. He hadn't let them get their jollies off in a while, but he figured they deserved a bit of incentive.
If the rats wanted to play, he figured they should get what they deserved. A bunch of Necros following them home would teach them that finder's keepers didn't apply to anything he claimed as his own. And this ship was his.
Riddick went out first, Precious and the other hellhounds trailing close behind. He could hear the subvocal growl beneath her panting breaths, the anticipation of violence rising.
She was ready to rip someone up. He could relate.