MyCoR 4
(My Chronicles of Riddick)
my: (adjective) of or relating to me or myself especially as author of these particular
chronicles: (noun) a historical account of events arranged in order of time.
This is not a title claiming The Chronicles of Riddick are mine, but rather that this is the forth in a series of additional (and completely unofficial) chronicles that I have created for Riddick that try to fill in some of the space left by the movies while staying within the canon (universe and timeline) laid out by Universal Studios (AND my attempt to force FF.n to file my stories in chronological order instead of alphabetical ;oD). Most stories in my arc are, for the most part, stand-alone with only minor references to previous stories so if you haven't read the stories that came before this one, don't sweat it :o).
Stories before this one (please see profile for current status):
MyCoR 1: Saved by Grace - 30 years before TCoR a man sought his future and certain events were set in motion... during the destruction of Furya an infant was left in a trashcan to die, his own umbilical 'artfully' wrapped around his neck. How'd he survive? My take.
MyCoR 2: Be Still: Chances - Riddick's history is piecemeal at best, and a lot happened to him before PITCH BLACK. What were the Wailing Wars? Where'd the million credit bounty come from? Why does he hate God? My take on Riddick's past.
MyCor 3: Turn About - Captured by bounty hunters, Riddick is enroute to Hubble Bay Penal Facility when the ship goes down in a jungle, and he's not the only survivor. The other's a citified secretary with a bounty of her own, but she may be more trouble than she's worth.
FORMALITIES
COPYRIGHTS:
Fandom: The characters of Richard Riddick and William Johns and other elements taken from the context of the movies Pitch Black, The Chronicles of Riddick, their novelizations and their official websites are copyrighted to Universal Studios. Entries from John Chase Log are taken directly from the bonus features of the TCoR: Pitch Black DVD (although some language has been edited). The manner of their use, and everything else in Nigh Unto Christmas is the creative creation of FanFic Member Amita4ever.
Bookcover: Many thanks to SemonView dot com for permission to use the thumbnail of their Christmas Ball graphic for my story.
RATED: T FOR: (if, at any time, you feels this rating needs to be changed, please contact me via personal message)
Language: medium
Adult Themes: mild
Violence: mild (one chapter might need a higher rating - it will be prefaced)
Other:
SUMMERY: "I got him... I would'a never guessed he had such a soft spot in his little heart. Children in peril. He's stupid like that. Shoulda known that'd slow him down too much." John's Chase Log – TCoR: Pitch Black DVD. Hmmm, there could be a story there. Of course there is ;o) Writer's Note: It's always a challenge to write a Christmas story around someone else's character. That challenge is two fold if that character is Richard B Riddick and the goal is to keep him in character.
ON RIDDICK'S TIMELINE: The first time William Johns captured Riddick (no record of that chase anywhere that I know of) he took him to the slam called Butcher Bay. After a "disagreement" with the warden, (and Riddick wreaking havoc through several levels of the multi security leveled prison) Johns decided to take his prisoner to a different slam which entailed them escaping from Butcher Bay together (the incredibly simplified storyline of the game Escape From Butcher Bay). This story fills the gap between Escape from Butcher Bay and the movie Pitch Black ¤. (For a more exact location, see The History of Riddick: A Writer's Tool. It's Riddick's history from official sources for the use of writers who like to pull on (or fit their stories in the vicinity of) the 'official' canon of the character. Since I posted it, I took the liberty of noting the location of my stories in it :o)
This is the fourth tale in a story arc I have created for Riddick that tries to fill in some of the space left by the movies while staying within the canon (universe and timeline) laid out by Universal Studios. Most stories in this arc are stand-alone with only minor references to previous stories so if you haven't read "what came before" this one don't sweat it :o).
¤ - This story is based entirely upon Johns' Chase Log, and at the time this story was started, the game Dark Athena was not even a blip on the screen, therefore the events of that game are not referenced in this story.
REVIEWS ALWAYS APPRECIATED!
(Good or bad, I value them all, but specific and/or constructive are especially treasured)
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Nigh Unto Christmas
By Amita4ever
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Prologue – Part 1
CHASE LOG: JOHNS, WILLIAM J. – TARGET: Richard B Riddick (¤1)
3 DAYS OUT- Suppose I should wonder why I'm alive. I got some distance between Butcher Bay and us in Hoxie's ship before Riddick dosed me and left me for dead. It's lucky I don't die easy.
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7 DAYS OUT- Tracked the S.O.B. to some bombed out mess of a planet. If New Mecca offered free dry cleaning I think they'd get every wretch in the system. There's no Riddick here... It's too damn bright.
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13 DAYS OUT- I'm headed for Tangiers Penal. It's home to the highest-running bounties and some pretty fine spiced noodles. Doubt they have any leads. You know I can see Riddick's goggled ass every time I close my eyes and start to drift. I'm watching out for other mercs... I don't wanna play partners... one named Dresden.
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14 DAYS OUT- I keep running past preachers and children headed for New Mecca. Lucky bastards with a clean conscience I guess. But then what do I have to atone for anyway? Maybe too much to mention... My biggest sin... Yeah, not catching Riddick yet.
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18 DAYS OUT- Bored as shit. Fuel line's down again. Waiting for repair. It's as thick as thieves around here, but no Riddick. Another day lost. Riddick's gotta be in the next system by now. Dammit. 17 for 17. He's not gonna be my first loss.
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20 DAYS OUT- I tracked him to the marketplace at Aquila Major. Stupid. I caught him trying to hide in the crowds. It's an easy mistake. Thinks there's safety in numbers. Thinks I'm stupid. But every rock has it's scum - and scum has eyes. They also get greedy. Now there's three dead bodies here and still no Riddick.
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25 DAYS OUT- On the look out for Dresden - imitator, jackass. Tangiers poster boy this month, my ass. Thinks he knows how this job gets done. Who's he ever busted... He knows shit. He's not even close to the scent... Doesn't have that cold metal tickle on his spine.
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26 DAYS OUT- I'm standing on a ghost ship just outside of the shipping lanes. Nothing but death here. Nothin' I ain't seen before. Looks like a group of Rykengolls tried to hijack... Eh, they're lousy fighters anyway... And now Riddick has a faster ship. Those damn pirates.
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27 DAYS OUT- This is going to be sketchy. My right hand's all busted. A real cheap shot. Caught up to him at a brothel on the outskirts... Damn his night vision. At least I'm being taken care of - my sources have all sorts of talents.
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39 DAYS OUT- I'm getting ripped to shit chasing this animal. Torqued my ankle. Damn he can run. I gotta remember to shoot first. Shoot first Johns. Think gun - then run. I think I'm starting to like the dope too much.
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40 DAYS OUT- Trying to avoid dark places for now. I need time to heal up. Those shiny globes inside my head. Should have learned my lesson at Butcher Bay. I need to reload. Need to get more... Of everything...
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47 DAYS OUT- I took a week to get right. Keep doping that eye, doc says. Problem is, I'm the only doc I know. I'm finding traces of Riddick everywhere... And Dresden, too. Gotta trade up on my transport.
(¤1) – John's Chase Log taken from TCoR: Pitch Black DVD bonus features (c) to Universal Studios
Prologue – Part 2
The Other Side
Been twenty days since we cut fence on Butcher Bay. Still not sure why he took me there. Bad blood between Johns and the warden, Hoxie. Old score. Johns seemed to think the Hox would want me bad enough to forget. He was wrong. Hoxie liked the idea of adding one Richard B Riddick to his collection just fine, but Johns was about as welcome as an on board virus. Who'd have ever thought I'd have something in common with a warden. 'Course by the time we left I wasn't too welcome myself, although I doubt the warden minded anymore. Hard to mind anything when you're dead.
I was hopin' Johns was dead too. Should have been. Butcher Bay wasn't kind to him. It looked like he'd picked up a stash of Morphine from the med-bay to get him by. Few days after we put Butcher Bay behind us I dosed him with enough to wipe out three men and left him to rot. Don't know why he didn't die. Probably can't. Ain't no way they'd ever let his nickel-badge butt in the Pearly Gates, and the devil's probably afraid to have him in Hell. With all the shit he's done there's gotta be a payday on his ugly horned head somewhere, and Johns'd be just the one to try and collect it. So where's that leave me? Hell on the run, that's where. Just when I started thinking I could slow down for a few days, there's Johns in the marketplace. Got real ugly real quick. Whatta ya bet the bodies get added to my kill sheet.
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21 days, I'm in space and hurtin'. After I slipped Johns in the market, I was off Aquila Major within the hour. Some idiot left his engines idling at the spaceport, at least I thought he was an idiot till I got the thing outta the atmosphere. That's what I get for bein' in a hurry. This shitty little crate hauler is leakin' air at every seam and now diagnostic's is tellin' me there's a heat shield malfunction. Figure I've got 4, maybe 5 days air left. Need 7. Some choice. Stay up and suck vacuum, or go down and burn. Damned if I do and damned if I don't. I can hear God laughing. Thinks He finally got rid of Richard B Riddick. Dunno, maybe He has.
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Day 24 and O-2 never smelled so fine. That damn cosmic sadist nearly pulled it off but I'm still alive. Near thing, though. Air was starting ta get pretty thin. Real considerate of them pirates showing up when they did, so I returned the favor. Couldn't fix the ship, so I fixed them. Now they don't mind tradin' ships cause they're not gonna need the air anyway. They even anted up a bit of cash. Can make use of that too.
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After 27 days on the run, you'd think a man could find one night's peace. Had to stop for fuel and food. Figured one night of relaxation couldn't hurt, after all Johns had no idea what I was flyin' but who needs the ship when you can tag the pilot. I suspect one of the ladies was in tight with him, hell, maybe the whole damn brothel. I thought they were glad to see me. Thought I knew why, but I wasn't thinking with my brain. If it hadn't been dark... Won't make that mistake again. Don't think Johns will either.
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35 days of playing cat & mouse with Johns and now I think there's a new player in the mix. Either that or Johns is getting' real good cause I'm starting to think he's in two places at once. Maybe I'm just getting' paranoid, then again if you're not paranoid playin' this game, you're dead. Ain't seen the other face yet, just felt him whispering on my tail. Doesn't seem ta have a good lock on me yet and I aim to keep it that way.
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Day 37. Yeah, new player confirmed. Some guy named Dresden. He's good, but he ain't got John's personal understandin' of Richard B Riddick. That gives me the advantage. Time to give the guy a few pop quizzes; see what he knows. I grade pass or fail. Fail you're dead.
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It's been near 40 days since I got a good night's sleep. Damn, this is getting' old. If it ain't Johns, it's Dresden and if it ain't Dresden, it's Johns. If I'm lucky Johns'll kill himself. He seemed a little dull in that last foot race. Was chasing me and went down hard. Think he messed up his ankle. Wish he'd busted his head instead. I'm taking a toll on him, but I gotta admit he's taking a toll on me. Need to get myself some breathing room. Hafta see if I can't find a way ta play both ends against the middle.
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46 days since Butcher Bay. Been almost a week since I saw the blue-eyed bastard this time around. I'm hoping he crawled under some rock to die, but I doubt it. No break though, not with Dresden on my heels. Time to end this game. Dresden thinks he's been getting close, but I've just been learning his limitations. He's got a few.
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Day 47 and I'm breathin' a little easier. Good thing Dresden and Johns didn't partner up. Someone workin' with Johns would've known better than to follow me anywhere dark. Yeah, Johns has learned that lesson too well. Dresden? It was test time. He failed. Time to skip this oversize moon; better yet skip the system. Need to get to the Space Station. Find something with long range. Two short-hop transports leaving tomorrow – One way or another, I'll be on one of 'em.
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Chapter 1
Whispers in the Dark
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Riddick crossed the courtyard scanning the shadows. Hanging out in public places had its detriments. Lots of folks meant clutter and distraction, but it also meant more eyes and you never knew which ones might latch onto you for whatever reason - and Riddick knew his build and goggles gave some more reason. There was just no way he could pass for common. The alternative was late. Fewer people, fewer eyes, but they couldn't help but see you. On the plus side, if it was dark they might not see much so when he could, he chose the latter. It was even better if he could manage it like he was now – O dark of the morning when most were still sleeping.
The place had probably been pretty once. A quaint triangular little sidewalk mall with carved arches on three sides, lots of little shops and restaurants opening into a trellised court with tables and benches shaded by cultivated vines that ran rampant through the overhead gridding providing a fragrant green roof... but that was a long time ago. It was dead now, the planters dry, most the shops boarded, most the lights broken, empty – dark and empty, just the way he liked it.
One of the few things that still functioned as intended was the information kiosk. The things were built to be nigh on indestructible, and he supposed even the underbelly of society appreciated information, at least enough to leave the kiosk alone. As he approached the information stand in one corner of the court, tucked within a little alcove formed of brittle trellises, he saw two figures in the shadows. As he approached they stepped back a little deeper. He wanted to laugh - the idiots had chosen a dead end corner for their meeting - but he didn't. They wanted to be just as invisible as he, and as long as they thought they were they would mind their own business. He ignored them, even going so far as to put his back to them as he accessed the kiosk, all the while hyper aware on anything from their direction. He knew there were two transports leaving the spaceport the next day. All he needed were details.
He activated the kiosk well aware that the light from the screen was now illuminating his face inside his hood. He was grateful the men were behind him and that the old trellis with it's long dead plants offered some screening from the front. The first thing he did was run the travel-cash card he'd picked up through the machine to check the balance. Handy thing when you ran across 'em. A lot of times the purchaser wouldn't bother to change the pass-code, they'd just hang onto the original packaging with the default code printed on it and when they did, it made things real easy for a thorough thief. The owner of this card wouldn't miss it, at least not for the next 2 or 3 days till he came down off his high, and by then it would be too late. There were a lot of good reasons not to get stoned in a cheap hotel – getting robbed was the least of them, but it was all Riddick had inflicted on the oblivious tourist. The amount on the card was not as high as he would've liked, but it might be sufficient if he could do some finagling.
The first ship scheduled to leave was the Togwotee. Medium class transport, fairly recent commission, leaving at 05:45 in the morning. The fare fees were a little high, but Riddick wasn't after the usual fare. A notation indicated the captain was looking to hire on some extra security, but that didn't interest Riddick. Security meant background check, even if just a cursory one. On the other hand, he didn't mind doing grunt work if it got him on board and that kind of want-ad wasn't always listed.
He had just begun to glance at the second transport when a faint whisper clear enough to understand came to him. Convinced of his ignorance, or at least his apathy, the two behind him had been confident enough to continue their business in low almost inaudible voices. On occasion Riddick could pick out a word or two, it let him keep tabs on their position without looking, but this time he heard a phrase. Perhaps one of the men, in his enthusiasm, had raised his voice just a fraction. Perhaps one of the dead leaves on the trellis had caught the sound just so, funneling it to Riddick's ear. For whatever the reason he heard it, "...kids'll fetch a premium price."
His mind rapidly went through the possible angles on the phrase, but there were only a few that made any sense considering the circumstances of the discussion and they fired a slow rage in the pit of Riddick's gut. Riddick paid no further attention to the screen in front of him even though he continued to select options from the menu on occasion. Instead he focused his entire attention on the conversation occurring behind him. He couldn't seem to catch another phrase, but he did pick up several words over the next minute's discussion, "...orphanage..." "...Ephrathah..." "...lure..." "...dust..." "...down-pay..." "...accept." There was some faint rustling of movement, then one of the figures exited the alcove. Keeping to the shadows he walked slowly and carefully toward the nearest archway. Stupid, Riddick thought, and impatient.
Part way the man misstepped, something crunched underfoot, and he froze. Riddick looked up as would be expected - careful to put his face in shadow - and scanned the darkness as would be expected, then finally went back to the kiosk as if he had seen nothing to alarm him, and indeed he hadn't. The man was average build, single weapon visible – a pistol - and stood eyes wide like a frightened rodent waiting to see if he'd be discovered. Riddick's violet vision saw the topography of the man's face clearly and he even recognized a faint fading flush that told him this man liked his bottles, but there had been nothing to alarm him. After a few minutes of Riddick's continued "unawareness" he heard the man resume movement, and soon disappear through the archway. After a few minutes more Riddick let the second man make his escape by a different route. Briefly, faintly, Riddick caught a familiar aroma on the breeze and then the second man was gone leaving the convict alone with his thoughts in the darkness.
The aroma motivated him. Out of curiosity Riddick accessed the news bank and typed in "orphanage." He got five hits from the local paper. They were all regarding the Mother of Hope Orphanage's fight against and subsequent loss to the Imminent Domain proceedings initiated by the local government. It seemed that the nuns of the order had taken the tract of scrap land they had been given and, after decades of effort, turned it lush and productive, even managing to cultivate an impossibly rare orchard of Orange trees. It wasn't too many years after that the government decided there were better uses for the land than an orphanage. The last article, however, announced a happy ending to the dilemma as another planet in the system had heard of the orphanage's plight and had generously offered them a spacious new home. The governing bodies of Lupis 5 had been all too happy to accommodate the move and had booked the orphanage, some 50 plus kids and keepers, on a transport leaving... Riddick checked the date... tomorrow!
Pieces started to fall together. He'd been distracted by the conversation behind him before he'd even begun to read up on the second transport, but there was one thing he had noticed. Part of the name was Ephrathah.
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