The setting sun found Riddick lying flat on his back, staring through his goggles at the ceiling of his barrack. He shut his eyes as the first rays of the sun streamed in through the window over his bed.

He heard the footfalls of the assembled guards before the security search was announced. By the time the door to his barrack was opened, he was already on his feet, facing away from the window. He snorted when he saw security officers James 'Jimbo' Tierney and Walter Lawson strut in, casaully sporting their assault rifles. The man closest to Riddick heard him and smirked in agreement. Riddick ignored him. No one spoke as the two men walked deeper into the relative darkness of the barrack. There was no electricity; all light filtered in from outside.

Lawson took a position between Tierney and the in-mates; rifle aimed for no one in particular as Tierney began searching the first bed. It would take the better part of two hours for the search to be completed, as each bed, footlocker, the floor underneath, and the ceiling panels overhead had to be searched.

Imam greeted Daniel Bramblethorn easily when he and his search partner Ewan Duffy stepped into his barrack.

"A salaam alaikam to you, Mr. Bramblethorn!" Imam smiled easily, careful not to impede Bramblethorns' path. The first time Imam had talked to him, Bramblethorn had been wary, even hostile. But as the years had progressed, Bramblethorn had warmed to Imam. Today, he was in a jovial mood.

"Same to you, old man." Bramblethorn produced a small hand held scanner from his pocket while watching Duffy establish his position. He flicked a switch and waved it low over the mattress. Duffy watched the men.

"If I remember correctly, your daughter is expecting a birthday. How old will she be?" Imam gestured with his hand to indicate the probable height of the daughter. There was a pause as Bramblethorn finished with the mattress before answering.

"Twelve. Can you believe it? I'm old enough to have a twelve-year old child. Where did the years go?" He glanced at Imam, a smirk on his face. Imam chuckled.

"Aah, it is true how the years fly away as your children grow. But you are not an old man, like I am, as you graciously pointed out." Imam said. Bramblethorn chuckled. He pulled the footlocker out from under the bed, then lay on his stomach and scooted halfway under the bed, to scan the floor.

"Maybe the time is going so fast cuz' I'm never there. Every time I see here, she's grown an inch. I'll be home in time for her birthday, though. I'm counting the fuckin' minutes." His voice was muffled, coming from under the bed. He grunted as he rotated 180*, to scan under the foot of the bed.

"You are rotating out again? But it seems you only arrived last week!" Imam exclaimed. Bramblethorn shoved himself backward from under the bed and pushed himself up from the floor. He stepped onto the bed and pushed a ceiling panel to the side. He pulled a flashlight from another pocket and turned it on. He adjusted his stance on the lumpy mattress before peering into the ceiling with the flashlight.

"Yup. And no, it doesn't seem like last week. Not unless you've totally lost track of time, which I haven't."

He readjusted his stance to stick the flashilight further into the gloom. Imam watched as always.

"You should be thankful to Allah for your family, and the happiness they bring you. You should say a prayer every minute until you leave, thanking him for his wonderful generosity." Imam proclaimed, good-humoredly. Bramblethorn was used to this by now, even though at first he had been distinctly annoyed by such suggestions. It had become a game, between him and Duffy. How long could one talk to Imam without without hearing about Allahs' wonderful this, or Allahs' beneficent that?

"Do you have any idea how many prayers that would be?" Bramblethorn asked. He shut off the flashlight and replaced the ceiling panel. He stepped off the bed and proceeded to the next one, to repeat the entire procedure.

"There is no such thing as too many prayers. How many is it, and how many is too many to you? You exclaim that you can not wait to see your daughter, but there are bounds to your thankfulness for such a wonderful creature. I do not understand." Imam said, feigning puzzlement. He knew of Bramblethorn and Duffys' ongoing bet. Bramblethorn paused, making the calculations in his mind.

"960 prayers. And saying anything 960 times in a row is too many times!" Brambelthorn laughed at his own humor. Duffy chuckled in the background. Imam grinned and seated himself on the bed behind him to continue the conversation.

Jack sat cross-legged on the floor, holding her breath as two female guards searched her things. She eyed the guards as they emptied her footlocker then scanned the mattress and the floor. One of the guards was Jennifer Talman; thick, strong as an ox, and foul tempered. Even the other guards didn't like her. The other one, Jack had never bothered to learn her name. She was heavyset as well, only she carried more fat than Talman. She had a crew cut, which only made the pastiness of her face even worse. Pasty face stood with the assault weapon while Talman searched. Jack exhaled when they finished her 'sleep area' and proceeded to the next one, ignoring the windowsill as usual. She relaxed and turned her attention to other thoughts as the two women quietly and methodically worked their way down the two rows of beds.

Riddick was staring at the grounds through the open window when Tierney snapped his fingers to get Lawsons' attention. Riddick moved away from the window to watch. They were three beds away from his, where Charlie Zasada slept.

"Now, what do we have here?" Tierney was flat on the floor. All eyes were focused on him as he placed the scanner on the floor and tapped the floorboard with his knuckles. Riddick was watching Zasada.

"What's this, Z?" Tierney asked. Zasada threw up his hands and mumbled,

"I don't know, man. What ever it is, it's not mine." Tierney used the corner of a gate card to pry the slat open. He placed it to one side and stuck his hand in the space beneath where it had lay. When he pulled it out, he was holding four explosives. Everyone gasped. Some one said; "Oh, shit! That's his ass." Everyone around Zasada shook their heads in stunned agreement. Tierney stuck his hand further into the hole. Finding there was nothing more, he replaced the floor board and stood up. He walked to where Zasada was standing until he was inches away.

"What else you got?"

Riddick could see the spit land on Zasadas' cheek. Zasada was shaking. His eyes darted around, hesitating for a split second on the southern wall. Riddick watched with piqued interest as Zasada decided whether or not to confess anything.

"N-n-nothing." He stammered. Tierney grabbed him and pushed him to the wall. Lawson aimed the rifle at Zasadas' back.

"Nobody move." Lawson ordered. Tierney spoke into the voice comm on his shoulder and asked for two more officers. When they arrived, they placed restraints on Zasada and waited while Tierney and Lawson finished the search, going over every inch of the last three beds with extra attention. Oddly, they were dissapointed when Riddicks' area proved to be clean. Search over, Tierney, Lawson and a third guard Riddick didn't know hauled Zasada into the setting sun. Eleven men followed them out, whispering excitedly. Riddick waited until he could see everyone through the window and then went to the wall Zasada had glanced at. He started examining the seams in the wood.

Charlie Zasada was half walked, half dragged across the camp yard. People were filing out of their barracks to see him being taken to detention, where he would wait until he was deported back to his prison. Jack ran in front of the milling in-mates to find out what was going on. Anna, of all people was the one to tell her.

"He got caught with explosives. He had twenty of them, I hear. What was he going to do with all those bombs? Was he going to escape, do you think?" she asked. Jack looked at her. She was completely serious. Jack couldn't help her self.

"Are you a total fucking idiot? Of course he was going to try and escape." Jack clamped her mouth shut. She didn't like the way the hurt look on Annas' face made her feel.

"I'm sorry. I'm just really tired and tense. I feel kind of bad for him. They're gonna tack attempted escape onto his record now. He'll be in for even longer than before." Jack explained. Anna shook her head.

"Well, all I'm saying is he couldn't have done it alone. I wonder who all was in on it?" Anna shaded her eyes from the sun to stare pointedly at Jack, before turning her attention back to the procession of guards surrounding Charlie. Jack tensed from head to toe, suppressing her astonishment. It was bad enough Charrie had blown the whole thing, but now Anna had promoted herself from annoying gnat to a large problem. Jack shrugged as casually as she could before responding. Her mind was racing.

"Whoever they are, they're fucked now." Jack scanned the camp yard for signs of Riddick or her father. Spotting Imam, she excused her self, not bothering to wait for Annas' response.

"I see my dad. I'll catch up with you later." She didn't wait for a response and walked away from Anna. Riddick came out of the barrack, goggles on, looking from one side of the camp to another. He spotted what he was looking for and dipped his head. Jack looked around to see Imam shake his head in response. She followed his example and casually strolled around the crowd until she was in front of Riddicks' barrack. All three of them stood and watched as Charlie Zasada, con artist was led through the main gate and out of sight. Imam spoke first.

"There will be a rotation, twelve hours from now. That would put it at about five am." He looked around, making sure no one was paying particular attention to them. Riddick crossed his arms.

"Daybreak. Then the guards rotating in will be here by four. That leaves an hour." He said in a flat voice. Something in the distance caught his eye. As it drew closer, he saw it was a personnel transport coming in a low altitude. Jack saw it too.

"The bomb guys are here." She said. Jack stared as the transport circled to the landing pad. It descended to a space behind the freighters.

"Speaking of which, we need detonators. And if anyone would have them, it would be the bomb guys." Riddick smiled when Jack flipped him the finger for imitating her.

"Too dangerous. They'll be guarding those things like they guard their..." She didn't complete the sentence because Imam was frowning at her. Riddick laughed out loud. Imam opened his mouth to speak.

"We have,' Imam looked around before continuing, "explosives?" he asked, in awe. Riddick shook his head.

"Where did you get them? When?" Imam wanted to know.

"Let's just say it was an anonymous donation to our cause. It's a moot point though, without detonators." Riddick answered.

"Could be I have some."

Riddick and Imam whirled around to see Jack standing with her arms crossed, eyebrows furrowed in deep thought. She looked away, steeling herself for what she was about to say. Rubbing the back of her neck to ease the rapidly building tension, she murmured "...but I'll need your shiv."

She looked out the sides of her eyes to see Riddick staring at her with hard eyes as cold realization blazed across the reflection visible even through the goggles. She ignored it, not feeling the energy to explain. She settled her eyes on Imam, who was moving away. Imam had spotted several people walking their way and moved to intercept so they wouldn't hear what was being said between Riddick and Jack.

"Well, you're just full of surprises today. First you miraculously come up with detonators, now you expect me to hand over something I hold very dear to my heart. I'm not givin' you shit." It wasn't a statement so much as a growl.

"Fine." Jack took in a deep breath to steady her nerves and moved a few steps closer, until she was standing beside him. Casually she let her arm descend from the back of her neck. Without the benefit of looking at what she was doing, she found the middle of his back, and walked her fingers downward to his belt. Stopping there, she inverted her hand until the backside lay against the small of his back. Breathing deeply once more, she squeezed her fingers between his shirt and waistband to retrieve the blade. It took a couple of attempts; his pants were tighter than they looked. She felt herself blushing as she wiggled her fingers under the waistband. She used the fabric as leverage to walk her fingers further down. She closed her eyes, mortified, when her hand slid onto warm skin. She had to move excruciatingly slow to maintain her casual posture and not catch anyones' attention. She wanted to scream with embarrassment when she realized her entire hand was in this mans' pants. Where the hell was the damn thing? She opened her eyes and fixed them on the power plant across the camp as her hand met a slight dip as her hand descended.

Had she missed it? She wasn't about to start searching around, lest he think she was feeling him up. She did stop involuntarily when her hand slid into the V right above his...Oh, God no, she thought. It took every ounce of her resolve to continue downward. At last her fingers found their quarry. She pulled her lips in between her teeth to keep from exhaling loudly with relief. This was crazy. One minute, she was calmly, methodically planning a serious crime, a felony to be exact; the next minute she was blushing cuz' she was retrieving a weapon. That's all she was doing; BFD. She twisted her hand to clamp the curved blade between her fore and middle fingers and gently pulled it up, dragging her hand back across the surprisingly smooth skin until she could grasp it with her hand. Palming the homemade weapon, Jack calmly removed her hand from his back and in one fluid motion let it glide to the small of her own back to tuck it into her pants. She forced herself not to think of the reason why Riddick had just stood there, calm, relaxed and utterly undisturbed. She was having enough trouble with the tail of her shirt; it was in the way. She knew she shouldn't have tucked it in that morning. She fumbled for a moment, staring blankly ahead, pretending she was scratching. She nearly jumped out of her skin when a hand - not hers - neatly slid over her own, removing the stubborn fabric of her shirt and making room in her waistband. When the shiv was firmly ensconced, a lone finger deliberately brushed the exposed skin making every hair, everywhere, stand on end. She flinched when she felt, rather than heard Riddick lean close enough to bring his mouth thisclose to her ear.

"You shouldn't play with fire, girl. You do not know what you are doing." He murmured. Jack summoned all of her daring and turned to look him in the eyes, goggles and all. That took away some of her steam, but at least her voice didn't crack.

"Calm yourself, Riddick. Or maybe you would prefer handing it to me, right here out in the open. Or maybe you want to stay here." She exhaled an incredulous 'hmmmph', shaking her head in feigned disbelief as she forced herself to calmly walk away. Proud of her machismo performance, she was never the less glad for the distance; she had just stuck her hand down the pants of a known murderer, and liked it. Worse yet, the feel of his hand on her back was even better. She wanted to slap herself in the head; she was too cool and too smart, to have a crush on some big, hulking, goggle-wearing, murdering, deep sultry voiced, incredibly soft-skinned man that was probably twice her age. Wasn't she?

That thought was immediately replaced by a wave of nausea. What she was about to do was much worse than grabbing Riddicks' ass. Her head hung low in resignation as she walked at a slow pace back to her barrack. Anna Greenspan watched the entire exchange between Jack, Imam and Riddick. Jad'Zia Dacks was standing beside her. Although Anna was in for repeated theft, Jad was in for one count of vehicular manslaughter. They stood shoulder to shoulder as the threesome split up. Anna leaned over to whisper,

"I'm telling you, she knew about it." Anna watched Jacks' progress across the dirt. Jad shook her head.

"You think they're in on it too?" she asked. Anna shook her head excitedly.

"Definitely. Those are the only two people big man talks to," Anna paused to turn her eyes in Riddicks' direction. "I let her know that I know, though." Jad turned her head to stare at Anna.

"That was an incredibly stupid fucking thing for you to do. How do you know she didn't just tell 'big man'" Jad'Zia held her hands up and signed quotes for effect "to kill your dumb ass? I swear to God, you shouldn't fuckin' be allowed to talk to people!" she spat. Anna cringed at the implications.

"You don't think she did...do you?" Anna whispered. Jad considered for a moment before answering.

"Nah," she lied. "I mean, we're talking about an entire personnel transport. It's not like there isn't room, so, nope. I wouldn't worry. Just yet." Jad'Zia added that last for effect. She mimicked the smile of relief on Annas' face.

"I'm gonna get some rest. You should too."

"But shouldn't we be making plans?" Anna asked.

"None of it'll matter if we're too tired to carry them out. Now go take a nap, or chew on a wood beam and calm down, or whatever the fuck it is you do." Jad watched Anna waddle to her barrack. Whudanidiot, she thought to herself. Then she strolled back to her own barrack. Jad'Zia Dacks fell into her bed as always, folding her arms under her head. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, imagining she could smell freedom. When she opened her eyes again, she focused them squarely on the bed directly across from hers, only to find... Jack staring at her. Jad glanced around the immediate vicinity. The window was open a few inches, and there were wood shavings on the floor. Her eyes flicked to the windowsill, looking for all the world as if it had never been moved. Pretty slick, she thought. She slid her eyes back to Jack and smiled.

"You know what I can't believe?" Jad drawled, as if continuing a previous conversation, "I can't believe you would even think about leaving this hell hole without me. I mean, come on, Jack. I thought we were friends." Jad sat up and craossed her arms, staring pointedly at Jack. Jack smirked.

"You mean like one of those friends that never talk to me, and I don't give a fuck. Yeah, you're right, it was pretty fuckin' selfish."

"Don't get smart, baldy. All I gotta do, is march right out that door and tell Mr. Security Guard what you and you're pals got planned. You might wanna rethink your attitude." Jad countered. Jack shrugged.

"What have you got to offer?" Jack said as she got up from her own bed and walked over to Jad. Jad shrugged.

"I'm a pretty good pilot. I never got a license or nothin' but I can fly just about anything out there."

"We don't need a pilot. What else you got?" Jack sat facing Jad, waiting for her next pitch.

"I'm good with weapons." Jad offered.

"So are we. What else you got?"

"I can set up the distraction. Hell, I'll be the distraction."

"Nope. Try again."

"What the fuck does it matter? I'm goin' with you, whether you like it or not." Jad arched her eyebrow, for effect. Jack ignored it.

"You wanna know what I don't fucking like, Jad?" Jack paused to watch as the few women that had come inside gathered their water flasks and exited again. She stood up and walked around the bed, to watch the women edge closer to the water tanks outside. Jads' back was to her. She reached into her pocket, palming a thick sliver of metal.

"I don't like being threatened."