Title: Cracker Jack

Author: LadyElaine

Disclaimer: The characters and situations of Pitch Black belong to USA Films and David Twohy. I make no profit from this except (hopefully) feedback.

Rating: R

Summary: The human race is dying. What role does Jack have to play in her species' survival?

When people asked Jack why she kept her head shaved, she always told them it was because razors were cheaper than shampoo out here. Of course, out on the Fringes, humans were the oddities, the rarities; more sapients than not who saw Jack next to Rene just assumed they were different species.

The station cafe was crowded, but that wasn't anything new. Jack was struggling to understand a pair of Burchars, their throats expanding with the effort of speaking at a high enough pitch for her to hear, but that wasn't anything new, either. She served them what she hoped was the right meal, one eye on the flock of Kriuulu currently occupying the central table.

She'd never seen any in real life.

"Excuse me."

They were beautiful, their incandescent feathers lighting up the dingy cafe like Christmas lights in a gutter, their fluting voices carrying even over the subdued roar of station machinery.

"Miss? Hello?"

Jack snapped back to reality and almost jumped in surprise. A human-a real, living, breathing man-stood there, looking politely embarrassed. Other than Rene, she hadn't seen another human since-Since the last time at Doc Sharp's, she reminded herself. Almost a year.

Taking a careful step backwards, she apologized with a smile. "What can I get for you?"

The man was dressed in drab gray coveralls that matched his eyes and his thinning hair. "Uh, no, nothing-I mean, I was wondering if you could direct me to the hub offices," he stammered. "I'm afraid I'm a bit lost..."

Well, it was nearly closing time anyway. Nodding, Jack said, "Sure, if you can wait a few minutes. As soon as these folks finish up, I'll close up here and we can get going."

He hemmed and hawed for a minute, and finally asked if there was anything he could help with. "No," Jack said, shooting him a cool smile, "thanks. Why don't you have a seat?" Weird guy, she thought, picking up a rag to wipe down the counters.

She froze when his hand closed around her wrist. No, no, no, no! "I'm sorry," she whispered, her heart sinking. "Please don't-"

"I really need you to help me to the hub," the man said. She raised her eyes from his hand to his face. There was a blister under his left eye. She watched in horrified fascination as it pulsed and, like a drop of candle wax, rolled down his cheek.

Oh thank God, he's not human, she thought with sudden relief-but hard on the heels of that thought came the realization that the situation wasn't much better now. Her hand had gone numb under his grip, and the chill was beginning to creep up her arm. She suddenly didn't think he had any interest in seeing the hub offices at all.

With a cry of alarm, she jerked out of his grasp. Feathers fluttered at the table a few feet away, and the Kriuulu stood up in shock.

Jack didn't wait to see if they meant to help her. Blundering through the storeroom, she almost ran smack into the back door. A few frantic seconds of fumbling with the lock, and she hurled herself into the outer passageway.

Whumpf.

The whole station rocked, and Jack pulled herself back to her feet. What the hell? She turned around, and he was there, something long and glistening hanging from his lower lip.

"I just want to talk to you," he said as his skin began to bubble. A pale hand reached out again, but Jack danced out of his grasp, turned tail, and ran.

Whumpf.

She grabbed onto the side rail for support and kept running. Somewhere behind her, fluting Kriuulu voices began to squawk in unmusical alarm as another explosion shook the station. Clockwise round the curve, to Bay 19, she said to herself. That's where Rene promised he'd be... Clockwise round the curve, she repeated over and over again, the words like a mantra blocking out the insanity of what she'd just seen.

Whumpf.

This time when she went sprawling, hands the size of dinner plates scooped her up. "C'mon, momma, get your narrow little white ass up!" It was Rene, his warm voice somehow reassuring, even in this sudden madness.

"Rene, I don't know what happened! It touched me, and then I ran, and then there were all these booms-"

"Crackers, is what happened! The whole place is gonna go!"

The lights flickered and died, and everything went still and silent. Jack and Rene stopped.

Shuffle-scritch.

"Rene?"

"Ain't me, momma."

"That thing-it wasn't a cracker. And it touched me!"

A flare sizzled to life in Rene's hand. His skin, normally so black it was almost purple, reflected livid green. "Almost there. Safe soon," he whispered.

Shuffle-scritch.

They turned around to find it staggering slowly down the passageway, one hand sliding along the wall for dubious support, leaving streaks of something wet behind it.

"Jhusst... 'anted... 'alk... you," it slurred.

Jack suppressed a scream, backing into the solid mass of Rene.

"Fuck, momma," he whispered. "No way. No, no, I gotta go, I gotta get my ass home and see about that coolant..."

Jack could feel him backing away from her, leaving her cold and alone, leaving her for this thing to have. He was leaving her!

She caught the edge of his shirt. "Don't-"

One of his huge, meaty hands crushed hers, twisting her arm savagely. "Let go! Crackers is bad enough, but you got a faylind on you, momma. They don't never stop, once they got a taste. And I don't want that thing on me." She could feel the blow coming, knew it, knew she couldn't block his fist-

Her world ended in thunder. As her mind spiraled down, she could hear frantic pulse shots zinging from Rene's pistol. Her last, absurd thought was, Well, I was going to have to leave soon anyway...

Just before the darkness claimed her, she felt a pair of arms wrapping around her.