LOADING...RETURN TO FURYA

DATA ENTRY: THE ORACLE

LOG 002-11/04/2514


"It's called regeneration," Aereon explained, as Riddick hot-wired the space-cruiser she'd pointed out and pulled away from the dock. He casually rammed into another ship on the way out, breaking its moorings and sending it spinning out into space. Aereon shot him a sideways glance, as if to ask if that was really necessary. He smirked at her, and kicked the cruiser into high-gear.

"It's a trick the Elementals borrowed, a long time ago, from a race that's been dead for millennia now," Aereon continued. "This was back when we were known as the Sisterhood of Karn. Before the Great Time War."

"Time War?"

"There were these people, called Time Lords," Aereon replied. "They watched over the web of time, and made sure nothing could change its continuity. But they created many enemies, and their ways eventually pushed my ancestors to leave their planet, Gallifrey, and settle on Karn. But that was a very long time ago. Even the last survivor of the Time Lords is dead."

"Couldn't he…regenerate?"

"Used up all his lives, I'm afraid," Aereon shrugged. "Nothing lasts forever. But he had thirteen. I only have four. Well, three now, I suppose. And, if everything went as it should, one minor improvement..."

"Minor?" Riddick said, slowly eyeing her form up and down with open appreciation. She scoffed at him, and shook her head.

"Appearances are irrelevant," she said, earning a heavy snort. She afforded him a disdainful look.

"If that's not what you meant, then...?"

But Aereon shook her head.

"Later. It's not safe to show you in here," she replied, waving a hand dismissively. He raised a brow at that, but didn't comment. "Now. If you won't mind setting the coordinates for Coromander Five, we have some recruiting to do."

"...What?" Riddick said flatly.

"Well, the Necromongers aren't going to defeat themselves, are they?"

"I never said—"

"I did just save your life," Aereon interjected pointedly.

"You just kept me from gettin' stuck," Riddick retorted. "I've survived much worse than some wannabe assassin out for my head."

"So the life I gave up for you means nothing, does it?" Aereon asked him with too much sweetness in her tone.

"I didn't ask you to do it," Riddick growled.

"Regardless, I think you still owe me a debt, don't you?"

"Is that what you meant by the best outcome?" Riddick asked. "Thought you could guilt me into doing what you want? 'Cause the way I see it, you were hobblin' along on your last leg, anyway, grandma. You just did yourself a favor."

"Well, how else was I supposed to convince you?" Aereon smirked. "It's not like I could appeal to the goodness of your heart."

At that, Riddick threw back his head and laughed. He didn't think he'd ever met a girl with such audacity in his life. As infuriating as she could be, it was actually somewhat refreshing.

"Ain't got one, sweetheart."

"Oh, sweetheart now, am I?" Aereon said tartly. "It's amazing what a few wrinkles can do. I am much too old for you, Richard B. Riddick, and don't you forget it, young man."

In a flash, Riddick reached over and snagged Aereon around the middle, pulling her right into his lap. She actually yelped in surprise, her legs straddling him, and he gripped her hips, pulling her firmly down onto the erection straining at his pants.

"Didn't see that coming, did you, Seer?" he growled low, leaning forward to run his nose along the length of her throat. "Tell me, old lady…When was the last time someone fucked you?"

He saw Aereon's cheeks blush red, heard a sharp intake of breath—and then she reached up and twisted his ear as hard as she could. He snarled, but before he could do anything else she was gone, ghosting right out of his arms and clear across to the other side of the cockpit.

"Riddick, I am not one of your little whores, and if you touch me like that again I'll rip your heart right out of your chest," she hissed, and for a moment her pupils expanded until her eyes turned completely black. A shadow crossed her face, and instead of a young, snow-haired girl a spitting demon stood in the doorway. Then she whirled on her heel, her cloak swirling behind her, and stalked out of the cockpit.

Riddick laughed himself hoarse.

.oOo.

He found Aereon in the galley, scribbling calculations into a black diary and muttering to herself under her breath. He looked over her shoulder, but whatever she was doing went way over his head. There were equations written in ancient symbols a paragraph long, line graphs, coordinates, names of people he'd never heard of, and dates that hadn't happened yet.

He paused for a moment, considering the half-moon spectacles she wore. Who the fuck wore spectacles anymore, these days? Hadn't she ever heard of Lasiks? Yet somehow, they made her all the more enticing. Her white hair fell softly across her brow, bangs framing her heart-shaped face, softening the edges. One delicate hand was held out loosely in front of her, fingers deftly manipulating tendrils of white smoke into numbers, graphs, lines, and pictures—flashing by almost too fast to see—while the other scribbled down whatever she was seeing in messy, chicken-scratch shorthand. She was small in stature, her head barely reaching his collar-bone, but for this moment she seemed so much bigger than she was—otherworldly and ancient and wise.

Riddick wondered what she would be like, pressed against him, all soft curves and smooth skin—

He shook his head. Not an hour ago she'd been a withered old woman.

But that was an hour ago, a wicked voice whispered. He was a creature of the here and now.

"You haven't yet agreed to my offer," she said lowly, her gaze flicking back and forth, absorbed in her work. "Are you going to help me defeat the Necromongers, or not?"

"Not," Riddick replied flatly, dropping into the chair opposite her.

"Hm. Somehow, I doubt they're going to give you much of a choice, in the end," Aereon said, glancing briefly up at him over the rims of her glasses. "They will prevent you from retaking the planet. That is why we need to take care of them first, now, before they regain any more power. Many went to seed under your rule as Grand Marshall. They are still weak, and crippled."

"Right," Riddick said. "And how do you suggest we take them out, with just the two of us, huh? 'Cause I'm good, but I ain't that good."

"We won't be doing it alone," Aereon replied. "There are people all over the galaxies, just waiting for the chance to strike a blow against the Necromongers."

"...You wanna raise an army?" Riddick asked, arching a brow.

"Exactly," Aereon said. "Like I said, our next stop is Coromander Five. That's where we start, with a man by the name of Dwayne Johnson."

Riddick's brows shot up, and he stared at her for nearly a solid minute, as if waiting to see if she would suddenly smile at him and shout, "Fooled you!" Aereon, of course, did no such thing.

"…You mean the Rock," he said finally.

"So, you've heard of him."

"Kind of hard not to, seein' as he's one of the most skilled bounty hunters in the entire system," Riddick replied. "Even threw me in the slammer…several times."

"Yes, I'm aware," Aereon said casually.

"He's a Merc," Riddick said, slowly, as if Aereon were deaf. Maybe she was. She was certainly insane. "I'm the most wanted man in the galaxy."

"Yes," Aereon agreed, and glanced up at him, her eyes dancing. "Your point?"

Riddick was not amused. He tilted his head, and gave Aereon the hardest glare he was capable of—for all the good that did. She merely put her chin in her hand and smiled.

"It won't work."

"We'll see," Aereon said in a sing-song kind of way, and he hated that knowing, purposefully enigmatic glint in her eye. He got the sinking feeling that, despite the bat-shit craziness of her choice in comrades, things were going to turn out exactly as she wanted them.

A Seer that could calculate the future was one thing.

A Seer that could manipulate the future was an entirely different ballpark.

As if she'd read his mind, Aereon's mouth pulled into a slow, sharp-edged grin, and a chill crawled across Riddick's skin. He'd sensed she was dangerous from the first moment he'd met her. But until now, he hadn't realized just how much. She'd been puppet-mastering his life from the beginning. She was still yanking his strings, and if he let her pull him along, she would drag him right to the edge of the Universe. Only question was: would she push him off? Or would he jump?

Typically, he'd have killed what was so very clearly a threat.

But then the image of that assassin's sword buried in her chest flashed across his mind's eye, and he clenched his teeth. The thought of doing the same to her (over and over and over until all her lives ran out) twisted hard in his gut, and he knew she'd known it would. She'd probably planned it that way, and no matter how much he wanted to throttle her for it, he found he couldn't.

He'd killed a woman only once before, and that was because she'd literally stabbed him in the back. Even then, he could almost convince himself it didn't count. She'd been a Necromonger…she might as well have been dead already. But her soft, agonized gasp would still haunt him for the rest of his life.

Aereon had done a lot more than just stick a knife in him—and yet, he didn't get the feeling she'd ever meant him harm. Despite everything, somehow it felt as if she was on his side. He could count on one hand the number of people crazy (or stupid) enough to do that.

All of them had ended up dead.

He got the feeling, that if he stuck around long enough, he'd be the one who died...and the only thing that knowledge did was make him want her even more.

He was insane.

He ought to tell her to go to Hell.

He opened his mouth to do just that when—

"5124592222-78757," Aereon said.

It felt like she'd just punched him in the stomach. Well...no. Not her. It felt like a five-hundred pound gorilla had just punched him in the stomach.

"...what?" he said.

"Those are Furya's current coordinates," Aereon replied, as if she hadn't just handed him the one thing he'd desperately wanted for the majority of his adult life. "Incidentally, it's also the phone number and zip code for Mr. Gatti's Pizza Delivery. Small universe, isn't it?"

"Mr...what?"

"Honestly, I have no idea," Aereon shook her head. "Sometimes my calculations can make absolutely no sense, even to me."

Riddick stared at the girl for a long time, wondering if her regeneration had knocked her clean off her rocker. He shook his head, slowly. He couldn't remember the last time someone had jerked him around this much.

It was kind of...refreshing.

Or infuriating.

He hadn't settled on which.

"So," Aereon continued, her eyes taking on a more serious light. "I suppose you have two choices here. You can drop me off on Delta Minor, and go on your way, no questions asked. In six months' time you'll find an empty, blasted rock orbiting a cold star. I'm guessing you'll sit there for a few days, perhaps a week, taking in the sights. Then you'll turn right around and come straight back to find me, after which we will set off for Coromander Five. By then, however, you will have wasted a lot of precious time, and our window of opportunity will have long since closed so you might as well not even bother. Or—and here's a crazy thought—we could skip all that, and just go straight to Coromander. But that's really up to you. Your choice."

Riddick drew in a deep breath through his nose, and actually had to resist the urge to scrub his hands down his face. He crossed his arms instead, and gave her one of those long silent stares that never failed to get under the skin of every bounty hunter he'd ever met.

Unsurprisingly, it wasn't very effective here. Aereon simply stared back, completely unruffled, with the air and patience of a large predatory cat hunting a mouse.

"...think you're clever, do you?" Riddick asked, his voice going quietly dangerous. "Think I'm just gonna fold and do whatever you want? Maybe I will drop your skinny ass. Maybe I don't care Furya's a lifeless rock. Maybe I like solitude."

"No, you don't," Aereon replied airily, huffing a laugh as if that was the most ridiculous thing she'd ever heard. "Because you haven't been looking for Furya all this time, you silly goose. You've been looking for your people. And if you want to find any of them, I'm your best chance."

His...people?

The hand-print upon his chest, right over his heart, began to burn.

"...I thought I was the only one left."

Something in Aereon's gaze softened, turned so gentle, and he had to look away.

"Some of them were off-world when the Necromongers attacked," Aereon explained quietly. "Now they're scattered across the stars, living in the colonies, mostly. If everything goes according to plan, we can unite them once more, and restore your planet to its full potential. But only if you help me, Riddick."

He was silent for a very long time, his head cocked to the side, searching her eyes for even a hint of deception or lies. He found none. But that didn't mean they weren't there. Aereon was completely inscrutable, even if when she looked sincere.

Still...

"...Coromander's three weeks away," Riddick grunted at length, his head bowing a fraction of an inch. The only indication of defeat he would ever afford her. "And this ship isn't outfitted with cryo-chambers. You said we wouldn't need them."

"We won't," Aereon replied. "Too many things can go wrong in cryo-sleep—or didn't you learn that on the Hunter-Gratzner?"

"So, what do you suggest we do?" Riddick asked, leaning forward and giving Aereon his most charming smile. Aereon looked up, her calculations dissipating into the air, and smiled sweetly back at him.

"I suggest you find a good book to read," she told him, rising from her seat and gliding out of the room.

"You're serious?" Riddick asked, disbelief coloring his tone.

"As the plague," Aereon shot back over her shoulder. Riddick watched her go, hips swaying temptingly, and leaned back in his chair with a sigh.

It was going to be a very long trip.

.oOo.

Aereon let out a deep, steadying breath, leaning up against her door and trying to calm her nerves. Damn hormones. She hadn't had to deal with them since she'd hit menopause. But apparently they were back with a vengeance in this new, younger body. And Riddick stirred them up into a frenzy like no one else could, damn him.

She pulled her braids out and ran a hand through her hair, shaking out the curls, before dropping onto the thin, narrow cot that passed for a bed on this ship. There were only two small sleeping compartments—hers, and Riddick's—but at least there was some sort of privacy. Most of the Third Zone Merc ships she'd been on were built with functionality in mind, not comfort, so having actual beds instead of the usual harnesses was a welcome change.

Still, Riddick was right across the hall. And her door didn't have a lock. That was worrisome, but she knew Riddick wasn't the type to force anything, no matter how frustrated he got. He would, however, do his level best to make her go to him, and she absolutely refused to sink to that level. A whole world of trouble was waiting for her, the second she started down that road, and she was determined to avoid it at all cost.

It was going to be a very long trip.

Aereon sighed, and pushed herself up. There was a full-length mirror hanging in the corner, and she padded towards it, curious to see the changes her regeneration had wrought. The face staring back at her was her own—just a version of it that she hadn't seen for a long time. The Time Lords changed their entire bodies, their entire personalities sometimes, and she was glad everything had remained constant and familiar.

She returned to the bed, and remembered belatedly she had left her Arithmancy book back in the galley. At least, that's what she called it in her head. Calculating the future in graphs and charts and numbers wasn't a new idea, by any means. People had been doing it for centuries, or at least had understood the concept. But she'd found the closest approximation of it in a children's book, of all places, written hundreds of years ago when the human race still lived on Earth. Some woman by the name of Rowling…

Aereon muttered to herself irritably. She glanced at the book shelf next to her bed in disinterest, but the sparse collection of maps and dirty magazines haphazardly piled up on top of one another did not appeal. She'd come in here to get away from Riddick and his infuriating barbs and the infuriating way he'd looked at her and the infuriating way her body kept reacting to him. She hadn't dealt with this particular kind of attention in years, not since…

She shook her head. Some things were better left alone—and Riddick was definitely one of them.

She blew out a frustrated breath and buried her face in her pillow. If there was anything worse than the dangerously unwanted attentions of a man that looked like Trouble Incarnate, it was boredom. Ten minutes of restless pacing later, ruthlessly ignoring the way her stupid new body...itched...she was ready to rip her hair out.

And it was right about then that there was a knock at the door.

As if Riddick had planned it that way.

Aereon suppressed a groan, then snatched a random book off her shelf and threw herself down on the bed.

"It's open," she said. Riddick pushed open the door, and stood leaning against the frame for a moment.

Then he tilted his head, pure amusement in his voice as he said, "You know your book is upside down."

"Yes, I was aware, thank you," Aereon replied coolly, without missing a beat. She hadn't, of course, but she wasn't about to admit that to him. "I'm practicing. Reading upside down is actually a very handy skill to have."

"That's a book on star charts. Didn't know it was possible to read a star chart upside down—"

"Did you want something, Riddick?" Aereon asked airily, turning a page.

"Made omelets," Riddick grinned. "Came to see if you wanted one."

"You made omelets?" Aereon asked, looking up in surprise. "You did not make omelets."

"What? Didn't know I could cook?" Riddick asked, crossing his arms and canting a hip. "And here I thought you knew everything."

"Just everything important," Aereon replied impishly.

"Are you hungry or not?"

Aereon considered the man for a moment, weighing her options. She could either continue to sit in her room and be bored, or she could continue to exchange snarky comebacks with a man who frequently swung back and forth from wanting to strangle her, to wanting to eat her with chocolate syrup.

"You can't avoid me forever, you know," Riddick pointed out, as if he'd been reading her thoughts, still smirking down at her like a lion watching a gazelle. "It's a pretty small ship. You're gonna have to come out of here sometime. Or maybe you want me to join you, instead…"

Aereon hopped up as if her bed had suddenly turned into a pit of lava. "After you," she said cheerfully.

Riddick's grin widened, but he didn't move from the doorway. Apparently he was going to try and force her to squeeze by him. Aereon gave him a condescending, supremely unimpressed look, before disappearing one moment and reappearing out in the hallway the next. He chuckled, voice low and graveled, and followed at her heels.

"I know what you're doing, by the way," Aereon said as she made her way back to the galley.

"Yeah? What's that?" Riddick asked.

"You're trying to butter me up so you can…what's the phrase? Get in my pants."

"Is that what I'm doing?" Riddick said. "And here I thought I was just bein' friendly."

"Which you only seemed to have started after I regenerated," Aereon observed dryly, seating herself at the galley table. "After you got over the shock, of course. Funny how that worked out. And now that you want me, you're all smiles and omelets. I've got your number."

Instead of trying to pass it off, Riddick instead shot her a shit-eating grin and plunked a steaming plate in front of her.

"You came to me, remember?" he asked, retrieving his own plate and sitting across from her.

"To offer my services as a Seer, only," Aereon retorted sharply. "Anything else was clearly off the table."

"That was before you turned into a fine piece of ass."

"You're just full of charm today, aren't you?" Aereon replied dryly, slowly lifted up one edge of the pseudo-egg to examine what was inside.

"Will you just eat it?" Riddick snorted after she'd thoroughly dissected his peace offering. "That's rude, you know."

"Oh, that's rich," Aereon laughed, though goodnaturedly. "Richard B. Riddick, hardened criminal and wanted felon, lecturing me on proper table manners."

"Just 'cause I'm a con, doesn't mean I can't have manners," Riddick retorted, enjoying the banter despite himself. He couldn't remember a time when someone had actually just sat around and talked to him like this—like he was a normal fucking person.

Meanwhile, Aereon was cautiously taking a bite, as if she half-expected her breakfast to explode. Or poison her. Or both.

"Well. I'm duly impressed," she admitted. "This is…actually rather good. Where did you learn to cook like this?"

"Would you believe Tangiers Penal Colony?"

"No way."

"They don't feed their prisoners. You're expected to find and cook your own food," Riddick explained, digging into his own meal, though he continued to watch her. Where he was wolfing his down, she took dainty bites like a proper little lady. He was almost tempted to chew with his mouth open, just to see her reaction. She looked mildly disapproving of his eating habits already, and carefully avoided watching him after the first couple of bites.

"So what's it gonna take to get you in bed with me?" he asked once he'd cleaned his plate. Aereon almost choked on her food, and just managed to swallow it down before shooting him a truly withering glare.

"Riddick, let me make this perfectly clear to you," she said, folding her hands on the table. "I am never going to sleep with you. Period."

"Don't fuck guys, huh?" Riddick asked, folding his arms behind his head. "Met a girl who said the same thing once. Asked me, real sweet-like, to go balls deep in her the same day. Still keeps a room open for me."

"Then go hop in bed with Dahl, and when you're ready to talk business, come see me," Aereon replied.

Riddick blinked, though he wasn't surprised.

"You know about all that, huh?"

"I've been keeping an eye on you for a very long time now," Aereon told him. "Ever since I found you in a trash can, actually."

Riddick felt his stomach clench, and he went very still.

"…You found me?"

"Who else did you think it was?" Aereon asked, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "After the Necromongers were finished, I slipped my chains and went to find you. You'd have died if I hadn't."

Riddick shifted, his skin feeling hot and heavy.

"So what, you want a thank you?" he asked roughly. "Right after that, you dumped me in one of the worst orphanages in the system. Practically grew up in the penal system. Takes a pretty cold bitch to do that. And people call me a monster."

"You needed the education," Aereon replied, her expression unreadable.

"I grew up thinking my own mother strangled me at birth," Riddick snapped. "The least you could have done was explain. Write a fucking letter."

"Riddick I couldn't," Aereon told him patiently. "The Necromongers were scouring the Universe for any survivors. If they'd gotten wind of you, if they'd known at all that you were alive, they'd have killed you before you were capable of fighting back. No one could know who you really were. Not even you."

It made perfect sense, and he knew it…but that didn't make it easier. Not when all he could remember were lonely nights, an empty belly, and the constant ache for someone to look at him without fear or hatred or indifference.

"Forgotten all about bedding me, then, have you?" Aereon asked curtly, and Riddick shot her a sharp look of complete disbelief. "Oh, the fickleness of men."

Oh, that manipulative little…

"I haven't forgotten anything."

"Oh, I think you did for a second there," Aereon replied sharply. "Don't let the pretty face fool you. I am still the woman that sacrificed you and your people, and I won't hesitate to do it again."

"Never doubted that for a second," Riddick retorted.

"Good," Aereon said firmly. "So can we just focus on taking out the Necromongers now, and forget about everything else?"

"Hell no."

"Oh, for pity's sake, for the last time I do not want—"

"Two reasons," Riddick growled, cutting her off. "First, you do want me. I can smell the pheromones from here."

"My body wants you, there is a difference," Aereon snapped, her cheeks flushing prettily. "I've just regenerated, and I haven't had to deal with all these damned hormones in years. It'll settle down in a few days. Believe me, I do not want you. I've seen firsthand what you do with women, and I am not a 'hit it and quit it' kind of girl. So back off."

"Secondly, you need it," Riddick continued, his mouth quirking into a smirk.

"Here we go," Aereon cried, throwing her hands in the air. "You men are all alike! You think a woman simply can't exist without you!"

"Lady, you're wound tighter than anyone I've ever seen," Riddick snorted. "When was the last time you had a good, long—"

"Do not even think about finishing that sentence," Aereon warned. "You do realize I am thirty-six years older than you?"

"On this side of the galaxy, Furya was destroyed nearly two hundred years ago," Riddick replied dismissively. "I've been on planets where one year equals a decade. And I've been in Cryo for at least twice that long. Time is relative."

"I will never have sex with you, Riddick," Aereon said, clearly and slowly, as if she were talking to someone mentally challenged. "So stop asking me."

"Not a chance."

"Look, if you just want sex, there are plenty of brothels we can stop at," Aereon pointed out irritably. "Sleep with as many hookers as your heart desires, and come back when you've got whatever this is out of your system."

"I don't want sex," Riddick replied evenly. "I want you."

Aereon blinked, staring at him for a moment in open-mouthed disbelief.

"And I usually get what I want," he finished. Aereon shut her jaw with a snap.

"I'm afraid you'll be sadly disappointed then," she said crisply, and was gone.

To be continued...


Disclaimer: I do not own Pitch Black/Riddick, Doctor Who or Harry Potter. All characters and ideas belong to their respective owners. I'm just borrowing them.