A/N: Revision never stops...

I had a few minor questions from a reader and thought I'd clarify a couple of points. Also I re-read the Pitch Black novel by Frank Laura, and guess what – Hidden in the after-crash scenes there's a little tidbit about where Audrey says she ran away from Scorpio One, leaving her parents behind. Then later she says "I was just running away when this all happened." The two together sparked an interesting twist. So here I add that the Hunter-Gratzner leaves port from Scorpio One instead of Conga. Conga is still where Johns catches Riddick so my next chapter will have revisions to reflect this overlooked piece of info. In addition, I add in the 'Dark Athena' level for the upcoming re-release of Butcher Bay. It's just a guess, if course so my mental outline for the event kind of follows Dark Fury. When I get more info I might just have to split this chapter in two.

I'm sure this won't be the last time I revise, either. I don't own, so don't sue.

A Passage

Prologue: The Butcher Bay Gamble

He could remember a time… God, it seemed like years ago now, when he was used to hearing his name spoken in a friendly fashion. His earliest memories of someone being nice to him were fuzzy in that typical way that childhood memories were. Well, of course they were, he'd been something like five at the time when the gray-haired, sour faced woman – Miss Gory - had offered him her hand and led him off the ship that he'd dreamt of – What? Home? Not likely. Ruin? Wastelands filled with broken buildings and a small group of scavengers that had somehow scraped a living off a dead world with an orange sun. He wasn't even sure that was real. He'd been told that the memories were nothing more than nightmares, the product of his overactive imagination. Gory turned out to be the head of a 'children's home' for orphans and under aged outcasts. He'd never been too sure which one he was, being as Miss Gory had insisted that he'd been born there, or very near, and brought to her by a shop owner who'd found him in a dumpster. After she'd snapped his fingers with a cane for telling lies he'd almost forgotten the place with the orange sun. She'd called him Richie. Little Richie.

He'd stayed there in the group home for years. School was held most days, but he had to share everything, usually with the bigger, older kids who wanted nothing more than to skip out and get high. He'd been 'Richie Dickie' to them. A small pest, too book smart for his own good, to fast to pick up new stuff to stay with his own grade, and too shy to speak up when the teacher moved him into classes he really had not wanted to be in. They teased him beyond endurance, until he started doing their homework to 'pay' them to leave him alone. If life had stayed that way, he would have ended up flipping burgers at the local joint, living in a roach infested flat, and scraping by. But it didn't. One day some men in nice suits showed up at the 'children's center' which was the basement area of the group home. All the kids there older than 13 and all those above a magic level in school were rounded up and brought in. By the end of the 'presentation' they had all signed up to work at the 'Sigma 3' camp in hopes of attending the Strike Force academy. That was the day he became Mr. Riddick. The day he signed his meager hopes for a normal life away in a gamble to better himself. He could still picture Miss Gory's face and her horror that the men let him sign up. She'd protested that he was too young and was told that his grades said otherwise.

Sometimes he missed her tired but warm voice calling him 'Richie'…

He focused back on the situation at hand. Same ol', same ol'. Both he and the flame haired man in blue had been here before, together inside a prison transport. He, dressed in Butcher Bay standards, was in chains; the other was not. It was a bit more than chains, actually. He glanced around with his deep brown eyes at the safety cage that kept him immobilized to the bench and sighed. Richard B. Riddick wished he could say that he'd lost count of the times they played out this drama. The 'they' being he and an endless stream of mercs and bounty hunters. But he couldn't, of course. He remembered in vivid detail every slam, every escape, and every day on the run. He remembered every trap and every capture. Once more, he remembered every corrupt guard and merc he'd ghosted. He knew them better than they knew themselves most times.

William Johns was a different kind of merc, though. He doubted that any other would have caught him this run. But each escape and recapture taught him something he couldn't have learned any other way. Johns was his personal blue-eyed devil. Riddick was an escape artist without peer. He slipped the toughest slams starting with the Altair deep storage facility. Killing the guards there was the stupidest thing he could have done, because it labeled him a 'merc-killer' and all the self righteous hypocrites swarmed out of the woodwork. But Johns was a late arrival, picking up on his carefully 'random' patterns almost by instinct. Those patterns fooled every other merc out there, aside from the dead ones. It hadn't been Johns on his tail after Hubble Bay Penal or Ribald S. Correctional. Then there'd been a group of mercs all who had managed to catch him on sheer dumb luck. His luck had seemed to change for a while after slipping Tangiers Penal Colony and making it into a unit of soldiers for hire.

Riddick had fairly fond memories of those boys. They were good men, young but willing and almost too eager. They were well trained and took up following whoever seemed the smartest at the time. He'd fought in the Wailing Wars with the best of them… Then things went sour and the marines showed up. Johns thought he was a big bad with his stripes and tracking orders. Odd thing was, the unit Riddick was with was on the front line and none of them were trying to run away when he showed up. That hadn't stopped 'William the Conquer' from making life hellish for some of the e-tack unit. One thing that Riddick had learned was that in spite the bravado Johns hated landings. He had even when he was military. That was how far the two of them actually went. Riddick couldn't deny that at the beginning he had some respect for the man he now hated with a cold passion that was built up over multiple impossible situations.

Situations like Johns recognizing whom Riddick was when the Brass recalled the merc e-tack unit they had ended up fighting alongside each other in. And Johns hiding the order for the pullout. Johns, whose greed surfaced as a raging animal… Riddick had fought a psychological battle with him, over the lives of the remaining members of the squad -- and he'd lost. More deaths on a merc killer's hands. Johns had been quite willing to allow Riddick to carry the sole blame as he dragged the ex-ranger back to Tangiers again. In the year that it took him to slip the new security, Johns, the new marshal badge gleaming on his chest, tracked down 17 other runners who like Riddick had proved difficult to keep behind bars. So it was Johns that Tangiers contacted, and Johns who had taken Riddick to Ursa Luna double max, fondly known as Slam City by inmates everywhere, the first time. Riddick had snuffed out the top dogs at the space station, once it became clear that Johns had told them a number of outright lies designed to cost the bigger man his life.

Yet in spite of that, the escape was almost too easy, Riddick reflected. Johns had been waiting just out of the station's sensor range and picked up Riddick's stolen ship after a chase and crash in the system's Oort cloud. Which led to this moment. How was it that Johns could still be fearful of landings? Riddick watched the man across from him blanch. His constant teasing about the danger might be part of that, he guessed. Then again, Johns had caught him, and been paid, nearly 3 times now. Surely the guild would catch on soon. He remembered why Johns was going out of his way to bring him here, to the triple max slam of Butcher Bay… Old debts. Hoxie, the prison boss, had somehow gotten his hands into Johns' purse. Perhaps it was a bribe or a bet; Riddick didn't know or care. But for some reason Johns thought he could walk away debt free with 20k extra under his belt. That was his current rant with the other guards on this ratty boat.

"Oh. Greed is an ugly thing, Johns," he cut in, with a tiny smirk form on his lips for a moment. The fake badge, true to form, scowled and told him to shut up. Riddick turned his attention to how he'd get out of this new slam Johns was taking him to. If only it would be an easy flip. Something like a hatch on the landing pad, used after offing the offending merc, connected to areas under the slam that he could work his way through and into the waste system. Maybe he'd get lucky…but just as freedom beckoned a voice interrupted.

"Rise and shine, asshole." A sharp poke between the securing bars in the ribs jarred Riddick fully awake. "Come on, shit for brains. I know you're not asleep. Rise and shine Riddick. Time to check out your new home," Johns voice sounded irritated. With a roll of his brown eyes, Riddick waited until the other prisoners were up and escorted by the prison guards off the ship. What else could he do as long as the security cage was locked? Johns punched in the code to release his bounty and leveled the gun onto the dangerous man, "Move it." They maneuvered down the ramp as the merc leaned in with, "And play nice, you hear? Hoxie won't like it if you cause a scene."

But Riddick's mind was on escape, not Johns and his threats. The vista outside the ship reached his calculating brown eyes and impressed upon him that this place was not the sort of place one walked out of. Sand, rusty and harsh, covered the distant ground. Warning signs revealed that mines kept the potential escapees from using that route. The landing pad and prison were built to impress. His reflexes made him squint from the coarse grit suspended in the difficult to breathe air as he scanned up the runway and over the huge bulk of the slam. The rusty stain marred the metal skin of the building as it reached into the heavens. A towering hell that disappeared into a murky reddish-tan sludge of a sky, concealing who knew what terrors. Riddick assessed everything with care, "You know you always take me to the nicest places, Johns." He was being an ass, but no more of one then Johns deserved.

His armed caretaker just thrust his gun toward the entrance and barked orders. "Shut up and walk…" Riddick tuned out the words even as he kept up the banter flowing between he and the merc. Johns was convinced that once Hoxie laid eyes on his prisoner all would be forgiven. The blonde man walking toward them with a complement of prison guards did not look overly impressed and Riddick just had to point out Hoxie did not forget nor forgive anything…

The following usual banter between merc and prison boss was enough to deaden the attention span of even the most trained killer. It was the same old story, outside a different joint. Riddick pretended total disinterest as the two sized each other up. Johns was poorly, his pay not covering his debts while Hoxie pulled off the puffed-up peacock look with dignity to spare, feathers and all. Only when Hoxie turned his attention fully toward the convict did Richard B. Riddick even act like he gave a shit. The arrogance of the man's words, "Huh, -- So this is Riddick? …Well, from now on, Butcher Bay owns your ass," grated on already sandblasted nerves. The large man forced his muscles slack. He placed his instant hate of Hoxie above that of Johns. It is not a wise move on the prison boss' part to threaten, but the man was too blinded by his sense of power to notice the slight change in the muscled man before him.

All the while Johns fumed from his treatment. Somehow he'd lost control of the situation far to quickly for his comfort level. A tiny part of his brain reminded him that this was exactly why he disliked dealing with Hoxie in the first place. The Warden had already begun to sink his talons into the prize and he'd not even gotten paid! Time to fix that oversight, "He's all yours once I get my bounty."

But Hoxie waved his arm at the merc, ignoring the man in favor of his deadly game with his prisoner. Full attention focused on the con now, after spotting the tiny flinch that signaled the fight or flight impulse barely contained inside the trained killer in chains. "Now, don't you be a problem. My boys like solving problems," he warned.

There was the possibility that Hoxie wasn't as stupid as the last prison boss Riddick had the pleasure of, um, meeting. Still, the man was so filled with arrogance that it boiled in his blood like a poison. Poison that needed to be let onto the ground. 'You'd think that for one fuckin' time that the idiot in charge would feel fear like he's suppose to,' Riddick narrowed his eyes, partly from the whipping sand in the wind and partly because he really did hate Hoxie from the get go. The man was a cancer, a sickness… Riddick felt driven to pass that on, "Johns said you were ugly. For once, I gotta agree with him."

The prison boss knows trouble when he hears it; Hoxie ain't stupid, "Already trying to get under my skin?"

"Would be easier if I had somethin' sharp."

That was stated way too calmly for a man facing Butcher Bay for life. Hoxie forced back the impulse to growl. Riddick was a dangerous man, but Butcher Bay was filled with such men and as the boss of Butcher Bay, Hoxie thought he was used to dealing with such things. But the longer they waited to process this killer the greater the danger. Perhaps it was time to move this inside the prison walls. No one had ever escaped from here. Hoxie would keep that record to his death. Riddick was his now, and this was where he'd spend out his last days.

Johns still felt left out. He again tried to haggle, "So, Plus 20?"

"I'd say he just about covers what you owe." Hoxie's voice signaled Riddick to focus his attention elsewhere for a time… Johns whined a bit… Hoxie put his foot down. Riddick observed the guard posts, the open areas for docking, the likely dead zones where bullets won't hit…

As he was lead off, something tickled Riddick with the knowledge that Johns wasn't giving up the game… He signaled that he would still play too, "Hey Johns, better luck next time." He just hoped that when the time came for the impossible that the blue-eyed devil will be there to deliver.

Once inside, walking among a group of armed and armored guards, Abbot as his side, Riddick endured processing. Processing consisted of being led into his ward while being told the rules, followed by delousing. Smart thing for him to do was to let Abbot and the guards think they were in charge long enough to figure out how to slip away. Only one problem. His ward turned out to be Abbot's personal playground. Abbot was as bad as Hoxie, only more accessible. Luck was good though, because Abbot was not as in control as he though he was. He never noticed the real plan. He even offered the top spot, the rooster he called it, to the victor of the gang-fight. But Riddick was not an inmate, he'd never do the guards work for them. Besides, he was not looking to stay at Butcher Bay any longer than he had to. And for a while there, he thought he was on his way out.

He made his deals, worked the network, found out the secrets he needed to find. He'd raised holy hell, panic and riots, all for a chance, a single chance, to make it to the fabled 'pigsville'. The easy way out. Only it hadn't been so easy. No, Butcher Bay was not an easy slip… by any stretch of the imagination.

Riddick wished that Johns had some brains, any brains really, at the moment. The struggle just to get out of the single max area nearly killed him; his eyes were fucked, thanks to the crazy Pope Joe of the darkness. 'I sure as shit ain't drawing attention to the change, and no one seems to care. All I know is that my dark eyes are kinda light colored now, even to the blackest part of them. It's really, truly, screwed. But hey, they got me through the darkness, saved my sorry ass from the madmen of the pit, all the way to Pigsville. And -- it's kind of cool to see in the pitch black. Pigsville was the best shot out, the phony gun delivery the best bet for getting the access code… meaning Abbot's eyeball. And guess what? Johns had to play the hero. Fuck. So here we are, walking to Hoxie's office. Abbot is rightly pissed. Hoxie, of course, wasn't going to reward Johns, Hell no. I get the mines. Johns got broken ribs. Shouldn't have stepped in the way, Johns….'

Getting the mines meant dealing with an entirely new network, with entirely new threats and new odd characters. 'Double Max. It started in the tower. Workers have to fight for the way into the maze of the mines. So I did that. Took out the best. Abbot denied my pass. So he wanted to be a dick. I just made sure he had to see me. That got me the pass I needed. The Mines. Not too bad, after beating the living crap out of every bad ass in the tower, including Abbot. Then of course, there's the plan…' Riddick looked at the brown-haired hippy-type that was playing the 'brains' of the operation. Jagger Vallance lays out the entire way to clear out the prison and allow them to slip away. As plans go it's all right, only Riddick thinks the high and mighty Vallance was a twit. But hey, it's not his plan… so might as well play the game, 'cuz if nothing else the boom at the end will be hecka fun…

The boom came somewhere in the middle. 'Stupid plan,' Riddick frets. 'Stupid, mutant filled fucking plan… Never trust a drug addled dip shit.' The prison-wide evacuation is in full swing. Monsters are taking over the prison and eating every person - hack, merc, and prisoner alike - that they can catch. And they are catching quite a lot of them. Only bright spot is that Abbot's body is someplace in the mess so likely it won't end up on his record, even though really the entire situation is his fault. He stops to check the ship status. There's one ship left. He made his way there, dropped the others trying to get a lift, and discovered to his disgust that Jagger Vallance was already there trying to break into the cockpit. Riddick took Vallance's shiv and set to work getting the hatch open.

But once again… Johns entered into the picture. 'Stupid plan, Stupid merc,' Riddick swore mentally as he grappled with the redhead. He felt the shiv sink into the sweet spot, or near enough, and was just about to drop the merc onto the floor when Vallance shot at them both, aiming for Johns but hitting Riddick in the ribs. Oddly enough he feels the shiv snap even as his side explodes in hot agony. It's all he can do to remember to breathe. In slow motion, he and his blue-eyed devil crumple away from each other to the floor. Amazingly enough, he's facing the ceiling. The sound of gunfire erupts into the ship as guards turn Vallance into hamburger. Riddick watches the hot lead fly above him, "Hey, Johns? You dying on me?"

Johns can feel his life ebbing away. But the rich deep bass of his enemy pulls him back. "Not today, Riddick. Sorry, no."

"Ah, well. I guess that's a good thing Johns, 'cuz I'm not dying on you either." Riddick said as they both lay there bleeding…

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

'Funny what you think of when you are facing death. Hoxie could have saved himself a huge bit of grief if he'd just let me bleed instead of tossing me into deep storage. I mean, shit, the rest of being on ice nearly healed me. I actually feel pretty good, even though there's only about 30 feet or so to the edge and no place to hide.' Riddick was running. The building was sloping away; the fall will kill, no doubt about it. Bullets fly every which way. It's getting near the end of the line. He's almost out of space to run on. There's nothing left. He'll die here, one way or the other…

A ship rose up over the ledge. Riddick knows without looking who it is. Johns. The blue-eyed devil finally pulled his wild card. He'll take the chance; one leap and he's on the ship and slipping inside. The merc was flying but had a gun trained on where he thought Riddick would be. He was shaky. It didn't take much to knock him out and turn the ship around. Riddick still has unfinished business -- with Hoxie. He narrowed his eyes behind his goggles and aimed the ship at the large plate-glass window that has to be the prison boss' office. Hoxie's afternoon was about to become much more interesting.

Glass shattered and metal screeched as the ship slammed into the window. Hoxie started back but there's no way he can go far before Johns' body thumps onto the floor, "How much is the merc is really worth to you, Hoxie. What are you willing to give me for him?" It was not a question meant to be answered. The prison boss tried to cut a deal having already hit the panic button and needing more time before he escaped the threat. Clearly Riddick planned on walking out of Butcher Bay and he's one angered convict. Riddick knew Hoxie was not about to let him go… hell to that, but no matter, because he knows how to deal with whatever Hoxie had left to pitch at him. Invisible robotic guards with big guns? No problem. Even the last ditch safety box poses little difficulty. And once more Hoxie found himself in really deep trouble as Riddick turned one of the big guns on the box, and it tosses him, chair and all, back to the floor.

Johns struggled to his feet. Likely it had been better for him to be dead out while Riddick took care of Hoxie's defenses anyhow. Bracing himself against the warden's desk he listened to Riddick lay out his demands. Codes to Hoxie's personal ship. Hoxie suddenly was real nervous… figures that the code for Abbot's ship would be the same as the ones for Hoxie's. Riddick looks over at Johns, because it's going to take them working together to get out of this. Johns stares back as the con asks, "Can you walk?" Yep, walking he can manage. Then there's the next question, "Run?" Johns looked at Riddick like he's insane and shook his head. No, there's no way in hell he can run. "I got an idea--" Riddick revealed.

Johns has nothing to loose, not a damn thing. He's got no medical care, no pay, and no loyalty left to spare for Hoxie. He listens and agrees to the idea, even willing to put himself in a position that would be unthinkable in any other situation. The idea gets them past the guards, past the alarm triggered panicked mob flowing toward Hoxie's office, past everyone and right into the docking bay with Hoxie's ship. And Johns has to wonder if Hoxie managed to stop the guards with the gag in his mouth… Riddick actually unlocks the shackles the merc was wearing before lifting the ship off the landing pad. Good thing too, as Johns needed both hands to keep his balance. Riddick asked if he's scared. Johns replied, "No." Then Riddick told him that takeoff was actually more dangerous than landing. Johns blanches. The con chuckles as he lifts the blast helmet off his head and heads the ship towards the stars. It's a new beginning.

The next few hours for the merc are filled with red haze and agony. Once his opponent gets the ship into a safe flight path Johns discovers that Riddick knows something about emergency medicine, more than he does anyway. By the time his wounds are tended, the redhead is passed out and that's where he stays for nearly 36 hours. He totally misses the encounter with the ship, Dark Athena, and Riddick's saving his ass from becoming a technological version of a flesh golem. Given time to think, Richard B. Riddick cannot avoid the fact that he should just kill the man now, while he's down. Only he can't. His personal honor is all he's got left and he won't toss that aside so easy. So instead he protects the man, goes out of his way to save him from the insanity of Captain Revas…

At one point, William Johns wakes still in a haze of pain, and is surprised that Riddick actually insists that he eat something. The surroundings are not familiar, and he's still in a haze that limits his ability to think. But he does eat, and manages to get his feet back under him. They make a truce of sorts, although it's a silent one, unspoken and shaky, that allows them to make their way through the bowls of Dark Athena to the flight deck. Hours pass before Johns is free of his fever.

All told the truce lasts for three days before opportunity presents itself and things break. Johns is always thinking about his bounty, and he blows it. He could've let the man go, tit for tat. Riddick deserved a good turn, for saving his life, for checking his wound and keeping him from dying. But Johns wouldn't know a good turn if it bit him on the ass. They fight, and Riddick simply hits him with a three dose full hypo of something strong enough to put a bear down. The merc finds himself waking up to a darkened ship, one that is not in the best of shape, and Riddick gone. It's not Hoxie's craft, but something far more sinister. Johns is able to acquire one of the transport shuttles and heads off to locate his prey… He stops to compose a log:

"Day 3

Suppose I should wonder why I'm alive. I got some distance between us and Butcher Bay in Hoxie's ship before Riddick dosed me and left me for dead. It's lucky I don't die easy."

Johns shut off the recorder. Three days out from shafting Hoxie outta Riddick's bounty money… And the ex-ranger had given him the slip. Johns clutched his side and groaned. Not only had his back not fully healed but Riddick's going away present was a nice set of bruised ribs. At least the infection was taken care of. How the hell was he supposed to do his job? Of course that was what the man wanted, Johns off the trail. The merc rifled through the half-used med kit and took a handful of pain pills. 'They don't do shit, do they? No. I need something stronger.' He pressed the autopilot and told it "New Mecca." before crashing into a dreamless, pain laced stupor.

Riddick is unaware that his own route to Helion 5 is being shadowed by Johns' limping ship. He's got contacts on Helion 5 and messages to deliver there from some of the cons in Butcher Bay. He made his deals and even though they are likely dead, he'll still hold up his end of the bargain. While he's there he can lay low, maybe check the rumors and news. If he's lucky he'll find out if Johastein still runs the mines on Sigma 3. If he's lucky, he'll know if it's worth the risk trying to uphold the old vow and rescue her from the Company's clutches.

"Day 7

I tracked the son of a bitch to some bombed out mess of a planet. If New Mecca offered free dry cleaning I think they'd get every wretch in this system. There's no Riddick here… It's too fuckin' bright."

It took several days for Johns to feel up to doing more than just staring dazed at the stars. By then he had guessed that Riddick would steer clear of Helion Prime. He piloted the ship down anyway. Couple of contacts, a bit of UD's, some string pulling, and Johns had what he needed. Not just for his ship, but for the constant pain that danced up his spine too. Perhaps Riddick did stop here... He had a lead for Helion 5. Might as well check it out…

Riddick didn't wait for 4 days to leave the system. It took a day to make his contacts, several hours to wait, and then he delivered his messages. The system left his pain centers dulled but his pockets full. His mind would recover from the poking just fine. He settled on heading to Aquila, on account of there being favors he could do, delivery of packages from Helion 5 to Aquila Prime. They even got him a ticket and passport. This should throw the blue-eyed devil off the trail…

Yeah, Helion prime was a bombed out mess of a planet if there ever was one. Then, so was Helion 5. The entire economy hinged on folk wanting to travel outside of the Helion Nebula, but not too far outside. Stupid "I've been to the edge" slogan emblazoned on everything in sight. Why would Riddick stop here? Johns had no clue, but by the time he got there one thing was sure, Riddick was gone. Not only that, but he'd slipped off planet without leaving a single clue as to which way he was going… Johns saw a doc… got his back wound properly "healed" up … only the damage was old, the metal deeply stuck, and he didn't trust some backwater hick to remove it, so thus the "heal" left a nasty, raised, scar about a hand width in length. And it still hurt to high heaven…

He got the ship fueled up and back in space. Last couple of times Riddick had escaped from a slam he'd headed toward Old Earth, roughly. Johns let the ship drift that direction while he made up his mind where to go next. News about what had happened at Butcher Bay was slim. It wasn't reaching the regular headlines. Maybe another slam would know…

A few days later another Merc hailed him. "So you are 'William the conqueror', huh? I heard you had a pretty clean run last year, Billie boy," the voice of the rather large mustached but babyfaced merc crackled over the ship's older communication system.

"And just who the hell are you, Friend?" Johns replied with caution.

The man laughed, "Just a fellow merc, Marshal Johns. Cory Dresden is my name. I must admit that your track record is impressive even if your latest quarry is evading you."

"I have no idea what you are sprouting off about, Dresden."

The dark haired merc eyed his image carefully, "No? I got a wave saying that Riddick had escaped from Butcher Bay! Can you believe it? Is there a slam in the 'Verse that can hold the motherfucker?" He could see Johns' jaw tighten. "I suppose you didn't know? They are looking for a new prison boss and head guard too. I'm betting the prison board is going to take away their triple max status after this."

"Fuck. Really? Hell. I just left the S.O.B there a few months ago as a favor to the old peacock." Johns was thinking that perhaps his pain shot was wearing thin.

"I did hear. Lots of us thought that Ol' Butcher would be one slam that he couldn't get out of. Guess we were all wrong. I do owe you a thanks though. Hoxie was knee deep into my pocketbook, and now I can write that off."

Johns tried to laugh with the man for a second; "He was in mine too. Was there anyone he hadn't gotten to, I wonder?" They laughed some more before Johns turned off the com. 'Fuck… How did that get out?'

"Day 13

I'm heading for Tangiers penal. It's home of some of the highest paying bounties and some pretty fine spicy 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 want to play partners… one named Dresden."

It was almost a week later. The shadow of a blip on his sensors was still there. 'Sure, keep following hoping for a lead. It won't get you shit,' Johns thought as he tapped a finger on the screen with the damning intel. Most likely Dresden thought he was out of range. Stupid shit. Making 'William the Conqueror' angered by hanging on his ass was never wise, but if you were to try it then at least know the range of his ship's sensors and detection sweeps.

The wave from Tangiers is filled with good news. Very good news. Due to the shit at Butcher Bay the prison board decided to stop fucking around with Riddick finally. The boys at Tangiers were getting the chamber ready for another final visit. There was nothing that Dresden could do about that. 'I've taken Riddick to Tangiers before… and this time they want him for keeps. Lucky me. I'll get the death bond this time. End game. But I won't share. I never have. And Dresden is looking for shadows. They don't have any leads. I think I have an idea though. Riddick likes fast ships. Kovan ships. The only place to pick up one of those easy is Aquila, unless he's become stupid… Time to head up stream a bit. Dresden will never think to look on those robotic outposts that Riddick loves so much.'

"Day 14

I keep running past preachers and children headed for New Mecca. Lucky bastards with a clear conscience I guess. But then, what the fuck do I have to atone for anyway? Maybe too much to mention... My biggest sin? Yeah, not catching that bastard yet."

Almost there. I think I can smell him. I wonder if he's closer than I thought he was. He likes kids. But no, he hates preachers… I'm going to stick to my plan of going to Aquila. Um… I wonder what that light is on for? Ah, shit… Okay, maybe I can hobble my way to one of those outposts. I have 49 hours of air left. Looks like 36 hours to the nearest one. Guess I should try to sleep…

"Day 16

(I'm) Bored as shit. Fuel line's down again. Waiting for repair. It's thick as thieves around here, but no Riddick. Another day lost. Riddick's gotta be in the next system by now. Goddamnit. 17 for 17. He's not gonna be my first loss."

Well, I made it. Still have to wait though. Another few hours and I'll be planet side. Then the real parts can go in and I'll be able to scout for a bit. I think he's here, somewhere. See that panic… it usually means that he's exactly the opposite of what I fear. It's just that I don't want to be wrong for once. He gets a Kovan ship now and I'll never find him. I do have sources, so maybe I can get my eyes looking out for him. I know they can flush him out. Yeah, like that. I bet he's on Aquila Major. I tell my eyes to keep track of him. I'm heading there now.

Riddick had almost two weeks of no mercs. He was feeling antsy that morning, but the crime boss here wanted him to do one more favor, pick up a data file and deliver it to Lupus 5. Not his favorite place to think of going, but the lady was giving him a ship to do it in, cover to get into the Company nest, clearance to check up on – her – and he needed to do it. So he made his deals, cooled his heels, and played the woman's game while watching over his shoulder.

He was coming back to his ship from picking up another package, the details of where the data file was being kept, when he spotted that read hair shining like a damn beacon. He turned tail and ran. Unfortunately Johns had three little helpers. He was cornered. It looked like Johns had won until the infighting started. He let Johns deal with his greedy extra hands and slipped away during the gunfight.

"Day 20

I tracked him to a market on Aquila Major. Stupid Fuck. 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 scum -- And scum has eyes. They also get greedy. Now there's 3 dead bodies here and still no Riddick."

Johns slumped in his seat. That did not go down like I planned. Ah well, I can pin it on Sir-Shiv-A-Lot. He's got a ship too. Not a Kovan ship, but some crappy slow thing. I guess that's a point in my favor. I know he's trying for that Old Earth run again. No matter, I got a tracker on his ship. I know which way he's going.

Riddick took off from the encounter at the fastest speed that his borrowed ship could handle. The flight path he'd been told to take was more direct than the standard shipping lanes, but more dangerous too. He kept a watchful eye out for the 'goll pirates that preyed on folks daring this route. It took 3 days for one of the groups to strike. Not that it was a problem. The attack left the pirates dead and gave him a faster ship. All, in all, Riddick was rather pleased with the outcome. He set the now damaged and body filled ship on a fast drift to nowhere, hoping that it would throw off Johns. He could almost feel the bastard following him.

"Day 25

On the lookout for Dresden -- imitator, jackass. Tangiers poster boy this month my ass. Thinks he knows how this shit gets done. Who's he ever busted? Huh? I crap bigger than his last paycheck. He knows shit. He's not even close to the scent… doesn't have that cold metal tickle on his spine."

I'm so pissed that I don't even know what way is up. Woke up this morning to discover something bad. My tracker is floating dead. Now there's only one reason for that to happen, the ship is not being flown anymore. And I can still see the blip on the sensors, so Dresden is dogging my steps. I guess there's only one thing to do… Find out if Riddick is a ghost, or if he's slipped me again. Somehow, I'm betting he's slipped me. I'm less than a day away from the location, and for once I'm hoping there's a body in the ruin that is Riddick's.

"Day 26

I'm standing on a ghost ship just outside the shipping lanes. Nothing but death here. Nothin' I ain't seen before. Looks like a group of Rychengolls tried a hijack… eh, they're shitty fighters anyway… and now Riddick has a faster ship. Those fuckin' pirates."

That answers that. I just wonder if Riddick is going to pull his advantage or not. He's got 3 days on me. This ship has floated that long. There's a pleasure planet not far from here and I know how long it's been since he's gotten any pussy. I'm gonna play my hunch. It's only 12 hours off. A gamble, right? Would he have stopped there for 3 days or is he pushing on? I'm a guy… I'd have stopped if I knew the merc behind me was 3 days off. And it's been at least a year. I know that for a fact. Yeah. Sir-shiv-a-lot, meet your maker. I'm gonna haul your ass in.

Johns would have been less than sure of Riddick actually being on that planet if he'd guess as to the real reason for stopping there. That damn data file. He had to go through hoops to get it, doing favors for various businesses and taking out the trash as needed. It took him well more than 3 days. In fact he was just exiting from the main contact's location with the file when Johns materialized out of the mist. He didn't have time for this shit! No, no playing fair, now. The fucker won't give it up. The ex-ranger caught the ex-marine's arm, snapped it against his knee to make the man's hand go numb. Johns tightened his grip on the gun.

"Give it up, Asshole! I'm dragging you back to the slam where you belong." Johns declared as they tussled.

Riddick just grunted and closed a vice-like grip over the hand holding the gun, "I gave you a good turn, Johns. Plenty of warnings. All you gotta do is walk away, and I'll fade into the night like the ghost I am."

"Not a fucking chance, trash-baby."

He saw white. White-hot rage bubbled up in his veins. Normally he'd hold it in, fight it back, but this time he let it out. There were no words spoken save the scream that accompanied the crunch of bone. The agony crumpled his blue-eyed devil to the ground. Riddick caught himself before he went for the merc's throat. It would be so easy… Instead he settled for a kick to the man's head, leaving Johns unconscious as he slipped off planet.

"Day 27

This is gonna 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."

God, that was stupid. Normally it would take months for my hand to heal, but I do have favors to pull and I can get elite medical care when I really need it. Like now. As it is, I'm down for at least a week. If I can't shoot, I can't catch him. I mess this up; I'll never shoot again. I'll just have to cool my heels here until the doc gives me the okay.

I should make sure I post a damn list about things I need to remember, things that have changed. Like his eyes, for one. I already knew from what he told me in Hoxie's office that he couldn't see in the daylight. Bright light equals bad for him, good for me. Darkness is good for him, bad for me. Gotta remember that. And the next time I try to catch him at a brothel or with his pants down, I need to remember to keep my damn hands away from him.

Riddick has another 12 days before he meets Johns again. Once more he's in the process of finishing up a deal, this one for the owner of the whorehouse he'd gotten the data file from. He's established that those he left behind are where he saw them last. Now he just needs to figure out how to get close enough to Johastein to take him down. At least then when he's tossed back into the nearest slam he'll have earned it. He spots Johns as he slips out the backdoor of the club where his contact wanted to meet.

"There you are!" Johns always had to be vocal when on the chase. The ex-ranger sprints off, twisting his large frame to fit through openings that might have slowed anyone else. The merc gives chase, but by the time he's lost Riddick to the maze of alleyways and rooftops he wishing he'd thought first and ran second…

"Day 39

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."

What can I say? Every time I actually find the son of a bitch he dances around the issue at hand. I'm not surprised, really. In my less addled moments I wonder if perhaps he knows I'm not at the top of my game and he's toying with me. But why? I'll never understand what is going on inside his head.

"Day 40

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. I need to get more… of everything…"

Problem is: most of space is dark. I'll drift here, and try to find some pattern to his route. Sometimes I wonder if there is some clue hidden in the past, Riddick's past, that I should know. We're chasing back towards Old Earth again, only it's not quite the same as last time and I'm starting to wonder if that's his goal after all. I mean, he could've been there already, but instead he's playing keep-away and going lateral to what I'd expect. It's almost like he's looking for something… I should've just taken the scratch from Hoxie, called it even, and moved on. Why didn't I?

One Cory Dresden faced off with one Richard B. Riddick at the unlikeliest of places, Lupus 5's computer central core. Riddick has delivered his package, so he's got no fears of being caught with it. Dresden crows about his fine luck and manages to herd the con out into the docks. He's thinking that the closest slam will be the best choice. Ursa Luna, Slam City. His boys know the plan. What Dresden is not ready for is the hidden shiv that finds his sweet spot before the crew can get Riddick bound and into the 'coffin'.

Mercs are by nature turncoats. The strongest crewmember steps in and orders the boys to load the prisoner up. He spits on Dresden's face as his former boss is bleeding to death, "Serves you right, man. Taking more than your split and keeping us in space behind that asshole when we knew where the bounty was going. We could've been paid days ago. Add this one to the four others in the pen waiting for transport and we'll be vacationing back on New Mecca with our feet in the sand." With that he leaves Dresden to die.

"Day 47

I took a week to get right. Keep doping that eye, doc says. Only thing is, I'm the only doc I know. I'm finding traces of Riddick everywhere… and Dresden too. Gotta trade up on my transport."

It's been a week; I took myself off the trail and just let it drift. I'm near Lupus 5, should be easy to trade up there. I can cash in all the various drafts and pull my favors. Strange thing is, Riddick had a fast ship, and there's no goddamned reason for him to have come this way. But I think he did. And the fella dogging my steps got ahead of me. I wonder if I'll see him again?

Before Johns can plot a course down to merc central he gets a wave from Ursa Luna. The prison boss looks like shit, "William J. Johns?" he asks.

"That would be me, yes." Johns has no patience left for assholes or dipshits.

The prison boss gave him a tired but relieved smile, "I've got some intel for you, concerning a prisoner that you've been tracking according to Tangiers Penal. If you could come to the station I'd fill you in, in person." Ursa Luna is days away… And his instincts are screaming at him that Riddick is a Lupus 5. But the pleading look on the man's face, the "Please, Marshal. You are the only one I trust with this" swayed him.

"Alright, but this better be worth it."

And boy, was it… Johns arrived at the station. His footsteps ring briskly even through the thin carpeting. He was flipping a read shotgun shell with one hand, as had become his habit of late. The ex-marine walked up to the prison boss with a whistle on his lips and was ushered into a plush office. The prison boss informed him that his arrival was recorded, and that the conversation was taped. Johns chose to say nothing and nodded. The boss passed him a file and video re-enactment.

He noted that the file was old, days old. But hell, he'd watch it and see what he could catch. Police sketch artist Brian Murray had compiled the evidence and made some leaps in logic that Johns didn't quite follow. But what he was able to distill from the thing was that Riddick arrived in cryo with 4 other cons on Prison Transport Ship 249. For reasons unknown the transport had been delayed.

The mercs and the guards had been careless from the get go, not asking who they had. Not to mention the ridiculously low bounty paid for him. Come on, who actually takes 10,000, cash or no, for five prisoners? And then the boss made his first mistake; cracking open the cryo case before making sure that the prisoner was covered by a squad of armed riot guards. Instead there's only the two mercs and a single guard in the room. It's a wonder that the entire station wasn't sent crashing down to the planet it orbited.

And punching Riddick with a limp fist was just like kissing him. What dumbasses. Johns watched as Riddick breaks one man's neck, palms the other merc's gun and advances to taunt him, all without opening his eyes. Even blind Riddick is a force to be reckoned with and these assholes had no chance in hell in holding him. Johns almost snaps the video off but decides against it as he watches Riddick take the last merc hostage.

The exchange over the money is enough to make Johns snicker. He still cannot believe that these green mercs thought that 10,000 creds was enough to die for. He's not overly surprised that the single living man is more than willing to give up that money in exchange for his life, seeing as he's the only one left standing. Riddick wastes no time taking the stack of UD's and the Kools in the second guard's pocket once they reach the processing area. Johns knows Riddick doesn't smoke, but cigs are a prime currency in any slam. The ex-ranger pushes the merc into the guards and leaps for the elevator shaft.

Johns presses the pause, "You watched him, you must've known that your guards couldn't stop him. Why did you even agree to let him board? Didn't you know who he was?"

The man looks flustered; "This post is rather new for me, Marshal. I'd heard wild rumors but thought they couldn't be true."

The laugher is bitter, "Well, now you know. I guess I'll watch how bad you messed up, then we'll deal."

Johns watches as the slam goes into lockdown. The dogs raise an eyebrow. The shiners raise the other one. This is new. He thought Riddick's night vision was unique, but according to this there were other prisoners deep in the bowels of the station that also sported eyeshine. Well, that explained it. He swallowed his words of correction as one 'Cutter' took credit for Riddick's new look. The prison boss isn't even looking his direction, much to his relief. Still, Johns wondered whom Riddick found to do the shine job at Butcher Bay.

Cutter explains how the procedure works, with peeling back the cornea, using a laser to clear out the eye so that the 'reflecto-coat', hydro-luminescent film would stick to the retina. 100 creds and risking ones sight was all it cost. Johns would have to research that. Of course having a bovine medic doing eye surgery was enough to make the statistics suspect either way.

The real speculation is how Riddick made it back up top. It appeared that he used the crematory. He'd take that kind of risk. Of course once back in the light he'd beeline for eyewear. The medical community housed in the station would be a huge draw for him. The vent leads right to that area too. Johns watches as the vid switches to recorded but fuzzy footage.

Emerging from the shaft Riddick finds himself in a rather non-prison like research area. The medtech is totally taken by surprise. But Riddick has another reason to off him. He's been working with some type of high powered light or laser and is still wearing his eye protection. And Riddick wants it. "Knock, knock… So where can I get shades like that?" He dresses in the medtech's clothing and places the body on a stretcher. A quick glance around reveals that the docking bays are very near by. He sets out for one. Reaching #17 he steers his body into the closest ship and begins to prep it. A guard and dog happen upon him as he's working.

[Guard-- "Hey… This is a restricted area. Step away from the controls." Riddick does not stop what he's doing; he only needs a few moments more. "I said 'step away from the controls' asshole." Riddick continues to ignore the guard. "Alright Max, Tear his fuckin' lungs out…" But Max knows Riddick…

[Riddick-- "Sic 'em. Max." The dog turns on the guard and jumps him throwing the guard's gun off target and pushing him back enough so that the thrown blade that flies from Riddick's hand slits open his throat. Riddick and Max flee in the stolen ship.

Which leads them back to now. "His name is Riddick, Richard B. He was a Prisoner here for exactly 11 hours and 22 minutes. In that period of time he killed two guards and one med-tech. If you catch him you are to escort him directly to the max-slam facility at Hubble Bay."

'And three mercs, but you won't mention those will you, you dipshit,' Johns added silently before asking;
"Hubble Bay's a long day in the saddle. Why not bring him straight back here?"

The uniformed man blanches, "Because we're scared shitless of him…"

Johns is sure he speaks for the entire staff. With a laugh he replies, "Okay. Sounds like my kinda job." He leaves knowing that Riddick has to be gone from Lupus 5 by now. Still, he gathers up the intel about which ship Riddick took from bay 17 and tracks the ship right back to Lupus 5. Shit. It'll be a few more days before he catches up with the con.

His arrival on Lupus 5 dumps him into chaos. There's a merc killer striking right in the middle of the headquarters, it seems. Johns is asked to come to the morgue. Once there he's shown several bodies, all of which display signs of Riddick's handy work. Yep, he's been here. But why? That's what Johns needs to know. He has to laugh at the irony of being the one to ID Dresden. Looks like he was the first to die. He's been sitting on ice for nearly ten days. Which means, of course, that TS 249 was likely manned by his ex-crew. The entire lot of them was stupid. He headed off to get smashed and mull over the clues.

"Day 53

Dresden found dead on Lupus 5. Sliced down the spine. Not the tough after all, jackass. Seems like Riddick's been thinking about me."

It takes 22 hours for Johns to pinpoint Outer Conga. Of course. Luckily Conga is just a short hop. He can get there near overnight if he leaves now.

"Day 55

I know where that son of a bitch is. I can't wait to see the look on their fuckin' faces at Tangiers when I come rolling in. Ain't about money now, Riddick. I'll see you soon."

Johns hits Outer Conga like a storm, rattling all the old chains and pulling all the long forgotten favors in his bid to locate the ex-ranger. He knows Riddick is here, someplace. Finally, after hours of putting pressure down on his contacts the ex-marine gets a nibble, and he knows exactly how to catch this killer.

"Day 56

I got him."

Landing and tracking Riddick leaves Johns with days of sleeplessness. It's midday when he pins the man down in a warehouse and flushes him out using the owners' kids. He has to shoot the eldest just to get the con talking. There's a stand off that lasts the night, and as the sun rises Johns finally breaks Riddick's resolve by shooting the youngest boy of 3 and threatens to shoot the girl. Riddick turns himself over.

Of course 'getting' his prey and holding him are two different problems. It takes a week to clear Riddick through the local justice system and then Johns has to make a bond that he will deliver Riddick to Tangiers. It's a hassle, but the redhead does it.

"Day 63

I'm leaving the Conga system with Riddick in tow. I would'a never guessed he had such a soft spot in his little heart. Children in peril. He's fucking stupid like that. Should know that slowed him down too much. I hope this slam can hold him, and I hope those boys at Tangiers saved their paychecks."

That's right, he does hope Tangiers can hold Riddick, at least long enough to fry him. Riddick tests the local jail and stretches its resources to the extreme. They can't wait to get Riddick back off planet. Once the bond is paid, Johns is ordered to get his bounty and go. He takes Riddick to Conga Prime, where his contacts have smoothed the way. Still, he's jittery. He needs to get the criminal into cryo before the animal changes its spots again and turns on him. Each day is a risk. Almost 11 days pass before Johns can relax and even then it's not a sure thing…

But before he can get him into Cryo, Johns is ordered to get his bounty out of the Conga system. He manages to get the man drugged up for the trip to Scorpio One where he can rent a secure suite in a 'hotel' that caters to Mercenaries like him. The drug treatment places Riddick in a coma like state, or at least renders him paralyzed. But Johns is sure that his captive is more aware than he is comfortable with. At least the trip to Scorpio One ends up being on a ship with other mercs and their captives, so his situation doesn't draw too much overdue attention.

Scorpio One has a fairly decent shipping business, and Johns is sure that sooner or later he'll land a transport. His little personal ship ended up being claimed by Outer Conga for damages, and Johns knew it was easier to just sign off than to fight it. The hotel is short on business and for a 10 per-cent cut the manager gives him the entire floor. This way if Big Evil manages to slip the room they can lock down the floor with the security gates to keep him contained. It takes Johns almost a week to secure passage on a freighter to Tangiers because of the security measures he insists on. The Captain, one Tom Mitchell, finally tells the brass that he feels more secure with the extra measures not less and the Spaceport officials greenlight the passage with less than 24 hours to board.

For once, Johns is looking forward to a nice long sleep…

"Day 76

Lucky 18. I'm grabbing a lift from a long-range transport. Hunter-something. The son of a bitch is finally in cryo."

(To Be continued ...