The doctor was there. He grasped Riddick's hand warmly. "My friend. What can I do for you?"

Riddick gestured at Jack. "Old friend of mine. Maybe. Like you to sew up her hand, check her out."

"Of course. Ma'am." He gave her a friendly smile, gestured her to the exam bed. She sat cautiously. "I'm Dr. Simon. Is there anything in particular bothering you?"

Jack gave Riddick a glance, her fear flooding back. Riddick smiled, all friendly, keeping a hand on her. "Someone knocked her out. Wanna know if they did anything to her. Changed her. Put something inside her." Jack's eyes were big again as the doctor tut-tutted over her hand. Had some equipment Riddick hadn't seen before, took very little time and the wound was effectively sealed.

"Lay down, please." She did, her body stiff. The doctor passed a small piece of equipment over her, slowly, several times. "Roll over, please." She did. He paused at the back of her neck, started adjusting controls.

"I don't see any evidence of alteration." His lips pursed. Shot Riddick's a measuring glance. "There is something . . . were you ever a prisoner? Or a slave?"

She spun over, fast, sat up, offended. "No."

"Let me try something." He adjusted a control. She convulsed hard and screamed a scream that knifed through the room. She tried to throw herself at the doctor, but convulsed again, falling. Riddick caught her, barely. She was gasping, crying, scrabbling at him with hands not under her control. He put her down on the exam table. She wrapped her arms and legs around him like she was a monkey.

The doctor didn't seem surprised, which put Riddick's teeth on edge. He caught the doctor's wrist hard. "Fix. It."

The doctor gave him a queerly hurt look, nodded. Riddick let him go. The doctor grabbed something from a shelf, gave her a shot from a hypo. Her muscles relaxed involuntarily. She buried her face in his chest even harder and shook, small spasms still ripping through her.

The doctor seemed oddly unmoved. "I accidentally triggered her control chip."

"It hurts. Get it out of me." Her voice was muffled into Riddick's chest. He kept his arms around her carefully.

The doctor didn't even look at her. Instead, his eyes were on Riddick. "I can't do that."

"Why?" Riddick's voice was gentle, but something in his aspect must have communicated itself to the doctor. His hands shook slightly.

"First, if it was put in there legally, it would be illegal for me to take it out. Second, without the access code, I try, and she'll die screaming."

Riddick contemplated that for a moment. Contemplated the girl in his arms. "Tell me more."

The doctor swallowed, seeming at last to recognize the danger in the air. "They have been used for control of slaves for a long time. Only recently legalized in the Alliance, for prisoners. Gives the guards access right into the nervous system. Pain, immobility, pleasure – huge amount of control, without ever putting a guard at risk. Very useful. Very humane."

"Humane." Riddick laid Jack back onto the exam table, carefully. Her face was wet with tears. She started to grab for him. He let her.

She turned her tear stained face to the doctor. "I swear, I've never been a prisoner, lawfully, I've never been a -- a slave, I'm a citizen of a civilization. I am a citizen of New Mecca, there's no slavery and no prisons . . . We rehabilitate people, there. We don't do things like this. Please get it out of me. Please." Her voice cracked.

The doctor was shaking his head, backing away. Riddick stopped him with a look.

"You sure, doctor?"

Simon swallowed, again. "I'll take another look." Picked up the scanner again. "Roll over," he instructed Jack. Her eyes flickered back and forth between the doctor and the scanner. Finally, she complied, reluctantly.

"Hm. There's a data chip in here." He punched a few buttons. "Two entries." Riddick squinted to read the small screen.

"What does it say?" Jack asked, sounding very small again. Almost without thinking, Riddick put a hand on her back. She relaxed, slightly.

The doctor read out loud. "The first one says 'Jack abu-Walid. Charged as an accessory to the murder of -- " the doctor broke off, gave Riddick a look of shocked understanding, "of Cyrus Borson of Helion Secundus. Material witness to several more. Known associate of convicted killer, Richard B. Riddick. Should be considered dangerous. If found, 50,000 credit reward for return to any Interpol office.'"

The doctor took a deep breath. Looked at Riddick, with actual fear in his eyes. Riddick shrugged. "And the other one?"

There was a pause as the doctor punched a few controls. "Looks like only one of these is supposed to be visible, but someone messed up the coding . . . Oh, here we go. It's short." He paused again. "Oh. 'Property of Richard B. Riddick.'" He gave Riddick a quick look, turned back to Jack. "I'm sorry, girl. Whether or not you know it, in most of the galaxy you'll be considered a --" he broke off at Riddick's dark look. "I'm sorry. You can sit up now."

There it is. The deal. Do what we want, you get the girl. Literally. Don't, and she ends up in prison for murders you did, or some slave brothel.

Someone knows me. Somebody knows me too well. He gazed down at Jack, suddenly speculative. Wondering who might know him that well.

She met his gaze. Something awful passed over her features. She really does know me. Shit. Then her eyes flickered towards the doctor, widened, her mouth opened --

Doctor. Right. He'd lost track of the doctor. Bonelessly, he intercepted the man's intruding hand, knocked a hypo to the ground. Yanked the man's arms behind him, shoved his face hard down on the metal exam table next to Jack. She pulled back like she didn't want the man to touch her. Without letting go, Riddick crouched, scooped up the hypo. Examined it thoughtfully. Placed it against the man's neck. "What's this, doctor?"

"I'm sorry. Just a sedative. I thought – I didn't know you were a killer. I'm just – I thought – tell those soldiers--"

"And her?"

The doctor looked shifty. "Get her out of here. She won't last long here."

And she'd be worth a lot if you could sell her. "Hm." Riddick let the sound linger in the air. "So if I inject you with this, what happens?"

The doctor relaxed, slightly. "I'll sleep for a few days."

A few days? "Hm." He looked over at Jack, still lost in abject misery. He felt charitable. "Your way or my way, kid?"

She searched his face. "My way."

"Your lucky day doc. She's into this whole minimum force shit." He jammed the hypo into the doctor's throat, none too gently, triggered it. The doctor's muscles went slack. Riddick picked him up, laid him on the next exam bed, tucked a blanket around him. Jack watched him, carefully, seeming slightly less miserable. After he finished, he picked up the doctor's scanner, scanned the bag she had been carrying. Finding it clean, the stupid fucks, he filled it with some supplies, as much to give her a chance to collect herself as anything. Finally, he turned on Jack, offered her a hand. She took it silently. He led her out of the clinic silently, pulled her gently into the darkness.

Still wondering who knew him this well.

Thanks, NotAfraidToLive! Your enthusiasm is warming.

tiff3488, you're making me blush! Thank you.

Thanks, Femme! I really struggled with that "might as well be me" line. Wanted to demonstrate it's not a conscious humanity/inhumanity struggle; it's deeper than that. I'm glad it wasn't painful to read. Sun's chariot – heh. Riddick's always reminded me of Set. Light's enemy during the day, but at night, Set's the one who saves the sun. Saves the day. Great old story.

I like a lot about the Tempest, but it doesn't grip me emotionally. Prospero tossing his books in the ocean never made sense to me. More of a fan of Hamlet and Macbeth.

Thanks, JacklynK! I'm glad you liked the "might as well be me" line too. Yeah, I'm playing a little on the dark side. It's gonna get darker . . .

Thanks, Bima. It's mostly the same story, though I may recolor a scene or two.