Carolyn Fry stepped out onto the top of the shuttle. She inhale the warm, dry air. Ironic really, compared to how cold she felt. She looked down at her hands, half expecting to see them covered in Owens blood. She shook her head and climbed up, meeting the woman, Shazza at the top.

"There was talk of a scouting party, but then we saw this." she turned, pointing to the large crash site. For miles behind the ship, the earth was ripped open from the ships course. The strip was littered with debris and cryotubes. There was no need for a search party, there would be no survivors from a crash like that.

"What the bloody hell happened?" demanded a dark skinned man. Shazza's husband by the way she was holding him. Zeke, she believed, recognizing the woman's voice earlier calling for him.

"Could've been a meteor storm. Might have been a rogue comet." Fry explained. "I don't know."

"Well," Shazza said. "I for one, am thoroughly grateful. Beast wasn't made to land like this, but, I think you did well. Actually, the only reason we're alive is because of her."

"Yes, I suppose you're right." Paris said. "Thanks very much."

"Yeah, thanks for saving our dicks." Jack said.

"No really, thank you." Paris insisted.

Shazza patted Fry on the back. "Well done."

In that instant, Fry despised herself more than she could ever despise a human being. They truly believed she had saved them during the crash. She wanted to scream at them, tell them how fucking terrified she'd been during that crash, how she tried to flush them out during the crash. How it had been OWENS that had saved them from certain death. Now Owens stood in their places, while Fry lived with her decision.

Fry shook her head. "Alright, let's get to work." she turned to Zeke and Shazza. "You think you can rig some breathing equipment with the liquid O2 canisters from the pressure suits?"

Zeke nodded. "Shouldn't be a problem."

"Okay, get to work on that." Fry ordered as if she were the captain. "The rest of you, see what you salvage from the crash. We need food and water. Water is top priority."

At her order, the survivors broke apart in search. Zeke and Shazza ripped apart the pressure suits and began rigging breathing canisters. Jack helped Shazza test out the rigs. Fry found herself standing in the lower half of the passenger cabin, glancing between Riddick and the woman restrained outside. By protocol, they weren't ever supposed to be released. None of the passengers were supposed to come in contact with them. Yet here they were, free-to an extent- and conscious.

"He just escaped from a maximum prison." Johns said, joining her.

Fry turned to look at the woman. "And her?"

Johns followed her eyes toward the outside hull. "She's been on the run for a few years."

"So, do we just keep them locked up?" Fry asked. She wasn't one for letting convicts go, but if they couldn't get off the planet, what point did the restraints serve.

"Well, that would be my choice." Johns said. "You don't these two mixing with polite society."

Fry lowered her voice. "Are they really that dangerous?"

Johns resisted every urge to laugh at the stupidity of her question. "Dangerous. They're on their own level of dangerous. But only around humans." He turned toward the hull opening and stepped out into the sun. "Paris said he might have something worth it in his container. Probably should go check it out."

Fry turned and followed him out into the sun. She cast one final glance toward the hull. Her eyes landed on the restrained woman. Even as she watched her for a few seconds, Fry could've sworn the woman's hair was changing right before her eyes. The shade of brown was growing lighter, and now because of the sunlight. Or was the lack of water and strong heat getting to Fry already?

"You ain't goin' crazy." Johns said, catching her backward glance. "She's a Mimic. Heat wears 'em out quickly. too much heat, not enough energy to focus on their shift. 'Nother hour and I'm guessing you'll see the monster behind that mask."

Fry's eyes grew large. Her anxiety doubled now. In her years of traveling, Fry hadn't met a Mimic, not that she could tell one from a normal person, but she knew the stories that surrounded them. It's like looking at yourself in a mirror, then you die. Fry shook her head. She pushed forward toward the cargo hold.

The cargo hold had broken off during the crash. It had dug itself into the earth nearly two hundred yards from the navigation controls. The earth between the two sections was littered with debris fro the crash. The interior of the cabin was mush like the outside. Everyone had been tossed about during the crash. Panels, beams, and wires hung loose from where they'd broken off. Fry and Johns climbed into the container and found Paris at the base of a thousand year old sarcophagi.

"The whole bloody containers upside down." Paris muttered. "It's all topsy-turvy." He cracked open the sarcophagi. the entire tomb was filled with glass bottles. "Well, goodness it's not a total loss?"

Fry couldn't believe their luck. "Booze? This is what you have to drink?"

Johns didn't seem to mind. He picked up a bottle an took a greedy drink of the bitter liquid.

Paris, however, certainly seemed to mind. "I'm going to nee a receipt for that. For all of these. This is my personal stuff."

Fry rolled her eyes. "I'll get right on that." She turned toward the upper hall where Imam stood. "I don't supposed this will help you any?"

"Unfortunately, it is not permitted." Imam explained. "Especially while on hajj."

"You do know there's no water." Johns spoke up, looking to the holy man.

"All deserts have water. "Imam reminded. "It only waits to be found."

"I hope you're right." Johns muttered.

Paris closed the lid. "All the more for me then."


Riddick waited until Johns and Fry's voice was well enough away before he made his escape. For the past hours, he'd been working on a way to escape. The how he escaped was simple enough, reach the cutting torch that someone had carelessly left seven feet from him. Once the chains were cut, he was home free. Getting to chains cut was the harder part. It also happened to be the more painful part. But, not being one to avoid escape because of a little pain, Riddick opted for his plan. He bit down on the bit in his mouth and lifted his arms toward the gap in the beam. His muscles tightened as he reached higher. He clenched the bit and popped his shoulders out of the socket one by one. Riddick groaned as he kept pulling his arms toward the gap. He pulled his arms higher and popped his arms into place. Finally the chain slipped through the beam. Riddick dropped to his knees and caught hold of the cutting torch.

Riddick pulled the blindfold from his face, finally getting a good look around. He turned on the torch and scrapped it over the metal surface, igniting the gas. He dialed the torched down and focused the flame on the cuffs. The cut took less than twenty seconds before his hands were free. He turned the torch on his ankle chains and quickly disposed of them. Riddick pulled the bit from his mouth and searched the cabin until he located his goggles. He slipped them on over his eyes and stepped out into the bright sun.

The heat immediately beat down on his exposed skin. The rest of the heat beat down, attracted to his dark colors in its path. Riddick took in the surroundings. Nothing but desert for miles. He could make out a ridge a ways from the crash site, with something barely resembling shelter. It may be the place to lose Johns when the bastard came for him.

A metallic scrape caught Riddick's attention. Riddick turned toward the sound. His covered eyes instantly found the chained Mimic. Her back was aimed toward him, a grave mistake in a fight, he noted. She weakly pulled at her restraints, trying too break them free. Riddick tilt his head to the side and watched her act with great curiosity. She was already exhausted. The heat and lack of water was already severely effecting her mobility and actions, but she still tried to free herself. He could hear her groaning as she pulled at her restraints. He admired her survival instincts, but there was no way she could escape in her current state. Neither could he, really. Without any water, he was as good as dead by the days end. But her, she'd be dead in an hour if she kept up like that.

His presence must have lingered too long. The next thing Riddick realized, he was staring into the violet eyes of the chained Mimic. Sweat rolled down her tan skin, trailing down the slowly appearing facial tattoo. Strands of fading brown stuck to her face. Riddick had seen the faces of many in his days, but hers was different. She showed no fear toward him. She didn't cower away from him, or beg him not to kill her. She simply held his gaze, as if she was waiting for him to end her. The Mimic seemed to realize he wasn't going to kill her. She looked, defeated, and lowered her head. An unknown source of anger sparked something inside of him. Without a second thought, Riddick marched toward her. He took hold of the restraints latch and freed her from the bean above her head. He did the same for her ankle chains. the Mimic looked at him, her eyes filled with confusion. Riddick said nothing to her. He simply turned his back to her an marched off into the desert. He hurled his mouth bit toward sunset, heading as far from the sun as he could. What became of her now was no longer his concern, nor was her release. He'd done his bit and now he had his own skin to look after.


hoo that's 3 chapters. hope I can keep up with this fanfic.

hope Riddick's escape was interesting.