AU note: Hi again! I'm very excited! I've gotten more hits than I thought in such a short time. Ok for those of you who want to continue reading this let me know if you want to see
1. Riddick and Roxy (super soldier) as an item with Roxy being a sort of Nympho (where once she starts sex hard to stop she's very sensitive) due to the experiments
2. Riddick and Roxy as an item but Roxy not a Nympho
3. Riddick sees Roxy as a sort of little sister
4. Riddick ends up seeing Roxy as a threat.
Kay let me know! :P
VERY IMPORTANT! PLEASE READ! This chapter follows VERY close to the Pitch Black script yes I know this yes I meant to do it and no I have absolutely no claim to it :P I do this so that anyone that hasn't seen Pitch Black (Shame on you! lol jk jk) can understand what is going on Kay? thanks! any who onto the story! :D
Chapter 2:
One of the Cryo-Lockers blew open spitting out the Co Pilot Carolyn Fry. Hitting the deck of the main cabin taking in the four crew lockers in a forward section, with countless more in the back she scrambles to her feet. But the deck is canted at a sick angle and alarms echo around the ship in shrill tones causing her to grab onto the side of the ship.
Legs wobbly, shivering like a flu victim, the results of cryo sleep, Fry stumbles to the next forward locker. It's riddled with holes. One of her fellow crew members stares unseeing at her in an eternal sleep. Faintly taking in his pocked and bloodied body through fractured plexi she stumbles back from him with shock in her eyes. In the next cryo-locker the captains, she sees him struggling awake. As her face floods with relief she slaps an intercom to the side of his locker.
"Can you hear me? Cap'n? Some kinda compromise to the hull...holding for now, but...Goddamn, I'm glad you're alive. Gotta pull your E-release...no, red handle, red handle. I'll get the warm-ups out while," Fry looks on in disbelief as particles bore through the cabin, blasting open the captain's chest, shattering plexi, detonating instruments on the opposite wall and leaving contrails hissing in the air.
Fry staggers back and lands on her ass, horrified. When another locker blows open Fry struggles as a body falls right on top of her thinking she was under some dead fellow crewman, just when she's about to go into a full blown panic attack she realizes this one's still alive.
Disoriented, and frantic Owens the one still on top of her says, "Why did I fall on you?"
Trying to move out from under him the co pilot answers out of breath, "He's dead. Cap'n's dead. Christ, I was looking right at him when.."
When Owens cut her off she let out a small growl, "I mean, I mean, chrono shows we're 22 weeks out, so gravity wasn't supposed to kick in for another 19. I mean, I mean, I mean, why did I fall at all?"
Disgustedly Fry shoves him off of her, "You hear me? Captain's dead." Owens lets out a low pitiful sound that sounded vaguely like, "Nooo." They stumble into the nav-bay as the alarms continue. Fry grabs warm-up suits out of storage, pitches one to Owens, and checks her screens.
"1550 millibars, dropping 20 MB per minute, shit, we're hemorrhaging air. Somethin' took a swipe at us."
"Just tell me we're still in the shipping lane. Just show me all those stars, all those bright, beautiful, deep-space.." When Owens activates an exterior view a planet is seen rushing up at them causing both to stare in horror.
Fry takes in a quick breath, "Mother of Christ!"
Riddick POV before ship takes off:
They say most of your brain shuts down in Cryo-sleep. All but the primitive side. The animal side. No wonder I'm still awake. Transporting me with civilians not exactly the smartest way to go. Sounded like forty, forty plus. Heard an Arab voice. Some hoodoo holy man. Probably on his way to New Mecca. But what route? Hmm?
Smelled a woman. Sweat, boots, tool belt, leather. Prospector type. Free settlers. And they only take the back roads, good for me, potentially bad for everyone else. And here's my real problem. Mr. Johns. Blue-eyed devil. Planning on taking me back to slam. Only this time he picked a ghost lane.
Long time between stops.
Long time for something to go wrong.
22 Weeks later:
A black rough blindfold hides my eyes though by now I had made a convenient slit allowing me to stare at the ship beyond my cryo tube. A metal bit wedged in my mouth lends to a perpetual grimace. A read-out shows in red flashing lights, "LOCK-OUT PROTOCOL IN EFFECT. ABSOLUTELY NO EARLY RELEASE." Snorting I look out at my fellow 'passengers' taking in the ones that had introduced themselves near my locker when they had boarded. Looking around I notice two that hadn't introduced themselves one was a kid locked in a cryo tube but didn't appear to have the outside code that the captain puts in meaning the kid was a stow-away.
Then, the other one was a girl around 16 years old, maybe a little older black hair flowing around thin shoulders down to her waist. She was short probably around five foot two or so weighing maybe forty eight kilos. I didn't know what her eyes looked like as she hadn't come in till right before take off and I hadn't made the slit in my blindfold by then. Her tight long sleeve shirt clung to her curves showing off a very fit form, and baggy black pants held up with a thin black belt slung low on her slightly curved hips. I let my eyes briefly rest on her nicely endowed ample chest giving a slight quirk of the lips in appreciation.
Being jolted out of my thoughts by the ship jerking and a tearing of metal I watched as the cryo tubes for the co captain fell open to spill her unceremoniously out onto the floor of the ship. Blinking red lights with shrill alarms flicked on lighting the co pilots confused features up. I watched silently in growing satisfaction as the captain was killed and the ship started tearing apart, heart battering her ribs, Fry and the one she freed run forward, using hand-holds to steady themselves. Over a headset I picked up the navigators faint voice, "They trained you for this, right? Fry? FRY?"
She doesn't answer. How, delightful. I settle back into my chains and watch as everything goes to hell around me with as much of a smirk on my face as the bit allowed.
General POV:
Fry harnesses in, and starts flipping switches, but fumbles a few times, making mental errors. Finally she gets crash-shutters open to reveal clouds sweeping up past the windscreen like floor-lights on a dropping elevator showing the fact that they were shedding big altitude, fast.
"... crisis program selected Number Two of this system because it shows at least some oxygen and more than 1,500 - would you, SHUT THE FUCK UP!" Owens pounds on a button and silences the alarms which had continued blaring, "more than 1,500-millibars of pressure at surface-level. Okay, so maybe the ship did something right for a change."
Fry flips more switches causing the jettison doors to close around the ship then Fry flips up a security-latch - and thumbs the switch below. What sounds like gun shots rip through the air as explosive bolts rapid-fire around the ship's skin, blowing away non-essentials that hinder aerodynamics, including big deep-space drives. But this last separation puts the ship into a dangerous roll.
Glancing out of the windscreen, cloud strata can be seen rolling in a vertiginous. Fry throws more switches, and air brakes deploy. She manages to kill the roll. But the ship's still coming in nose-high.
"Showing no major water bodies...maximum terrain, 220 meters over mean surface, largely cinder and gypsum with some evaporite deposits," when the jettison doors close behind Owens, segregating him from the passenger compartment. It scares him for a new reason. "Fry? What're you doing?"
Fry flips up a new security-latch. Owens frantic voice sounds over the headset, "Fry?"
"Can't get my nose down...too much load, back there." She has a hint of determined steel in her voice that frightens Owens.
"You mean that "load" of passengers?" Owens voice breaks as it hits a high note of incredulity.
"So what, we should both go down too? Out of sheer fucking nobility? I don't fucking think so!" With this tortured silence follows. Fry's thumb moves to the switch that will jettison the passenger cabin. Jettison 50 people that is.
In the back with the cryo lockers Johns with his badge showing him to be some type of cop, is shaken awake.
Back in the flight deck Owens is trying to reason with Fry, "Look, Fry. Company says we're responsible for every one of those passen.."
Cutting him off with a grim look Fry says, "Company's not here, is it?"
"When captain went down, you stepped up, whether you like it or not. Now they train you for this, so.."
Fry's desperate voice cuts him off again, "And there wasn't a simulated cockroach alive within 50 clicks of the simulated crash site! That's how they train you! On a fucking simulator!"
Owens unbuckles from his chair. Making his way unsteadily to the back, "Don't touch that switch!"
Overcome by guilt, Fry retracts her thumb of mass destruction. But a huge jolt puts the thumb right back. "I'm not dying for them." She pushes it. But this time no bolts fire. Nothing separates from the ship that screams down through the clouds. Looking back to look for a reason on why it didn't work Fry sees that Owens had reopened the jettison doors locally, and blocked them open. "Owens!"
The navigator is unrelenting, "70 seconds! You still got 70 seconds to level this beast out! And if you don't we're all going down!"
Seething in anger and guilt, Fry pops more air brakes, shedding more speed, more heat. The ship does level, but it's still being pounded hellishly. She tries to get a stable view out of the windscreen. They started breaking through cloud-bottoms. There's just a glimpse of landscape before an air brake fails. It shears off and pinwheels into the windscreen cracking it into a thousand spiderwebs, but impossibly it holds. For now.
"What the fuck was that?" Owens voice sounds out with a slight hint of panic. Sunlight flares from every fractured edge: It's like looking into burning diamonds, and Fry can only get an impression of the outside world. Now she has to rely on a ground-mapping display. 120 meters altitude. And dropping.
When Johns realizes he's in some kind of shit-storm, he claws at safety restraints.
Fry looks at the ground-mapper which showed: 60 meters. Collision alarms kick in. Out of the fractured windscreen, Fry spy's a huge dark mass rise up into view. Land. 40 meters...30...20...10...bracing Fry closes her eyes. As the impact glues her to her chair, sand and strong hurricane type winds whip around leaving small cuts on her face and arms.
Chairs rip from their moorings. Strapped into one, Owens slams into the ceiling and lets out a strangled gasp.
Johns blows out of his locker, and wishes to God he would've stayed inside, because just beside him the hull is cracking open like an over ripe egg. A huge section of the cabin tears free skitters and crashes along the planet floor behind them and disintegrates out of sight. 40 cryo-lockers vanished with it. 40 lives. 40 dead.
Hammered by wind, Fry opens her eyes experimentally. A vortex of motion, of speed, of blurring debris surrounds her, but the ship is burrowing in. Burrowing under. Fry pivots her chair 180 degrees a nanosecond before dirt avalanches into the cockpit.
Roxy's POV:
Feeling myself being shaken awake, I slowly slitted my eyes open to take in the chaos of the ship start to fall apart from what looked like a wayward comet storm. Looking to where I had seen the captain earlier I saw that he was very much dead I shrugged before turning to see that the co pilot and navigator were missing from their lockers, and upon hearing faint voices I deduced they were on the flight deck. Feeling the ship yank itself around then the sudden upwards pull of the ship, telling of the co pilots decision to get rid of the cargo. Hmmm, good thing my bag is in my cryo tube, that would have been rather unfortunate as I'm rather attached to some of those things. Being yanked around in my cryotube however was not my idea of fun, disgruntlement ran through me before fading once more into apathy.
Hearing the navigator shouting at the co pilot, "Don't touch that switch!" surprised me I didn't think she looked the type to be that heartless, ah well, to each their own. Feeling the ship jerk once more I caught sight of a piece of paneling fly my way, the last thing I thought, was 'well shit that's gonna hurt like a bitch,' before my head was slammed against the back of the cryo tube knocking me out, thankfully.