A/N: I Own Nothing...

To Hope K: Beg no more! It is here;)

To Brimseye: You definitely had a ball reviewing:)) thanks a lot:)

This chapter was very difficult for me to write and it took me quite some time to wrap it up. So, enjoy and tell me what you think. Constructive criticism is more than welcome:)

Kill Rage

Rage. Anger. The need to kill. The reason Preds fear us so much. The reason humans make such prized trophies. You can't neutralize the kill rage by cutting off a gland. It is within our very essence: the killer instincts. Yautja are the greatest Hunters in the Universe. But Humans are the greatest killers. The Elder knew that when he took me in, when he put me in recovery, when he put a blade in my hand and ordered his Hunters to come at me, to draw my blood until I fought back, until Reason was clouded by Rage. Self-defense? Fuck that! Maybe the first blow…but the second…the third…the fourth… Even animals know when enough is enough. They had to pull me away…

I used to hate myself for nearly ghosting 40 passengers. After a couple of years of Deep Space, I didn't have a self to hate… Did I ever worry about such things? About pulling a god-damned handle? About leaving two people behind on a monster infested planet in the middle of fucking nowhere just to save my own ass? None of that mattered. And I seriously began to ponder if it ever did. I entertained that particular idea. That maybe I had been…wrong. Then I just forgot… and I became the worst kind of Wraith in the worst kind of Space. All that talk about Wraiths always killing for a reason…just one of those illusions people like to hold on to, even - or especially - in DS.

I was going to kill Lou'An. For no reason. For no legitimate reason. Insanely, ragingly slit his throat. No whispers. I heard nothing, I felt nothing, I just tasted the blood trickling down his throat. This was not Wrath. Not that feeling that drove me to raid the entire Lupus System. Not the feeling that made me hate people I once cared for. No. It was Rage. Pure Kill Rage.

Then came the shouting. Memories demanded attention until I knew not what was now and what was then. Men…they always shout at me. Captain Mitchell did, Owens did, Johns did, he did… now Lou'An was doing it.

"LISTEN!"

I always listen…

Don't touch that handle!

Shut up!

Look deeper!

Darkness. I hate all the fucking darkness. But Lou'An's eyes shine bright and they stare me down although I'm the one holding the blades. Too bad his eyes are the wrong color…

"Don't let the Mark enter your soul…"

After the pain, after the death, after the beating, after the fights, after the Wraith Raids, after I thought there was nothing left of me to lose, there was the Hunt. My first encounter with the Xenomorphs. I lost almost my entire crew on a planet were breeding went out of control. And I did not lose them in a fight…they did not die honorably. They died so those fuckers could live. They died by my hands so those fuckers wouldn't. I wept for them. But no amount of tears could wipe their blood and the blood of so many others off my hands. I received the Mark. For the Yautja it was a sign of pride. For me, it was the Mark of Shame forever imprinted on my forehead, the sign that would never let me forget all those I had miserably failed. It was the cross I had to carry. Even now it weighs heavy on my soul. Let it! I fucking deserve it…

"Don't forget your Name…"

My name…

Is there something special about that, Caroleen?

Like you can't decide if it's Carolyn or Caroline… Strangely enough, I was told my father had the same problem. I guess he tossed a coin or something. He had blue eyes and a blue uniform. He was a cop…he chose to be a cop…and cops die. Johns learned that the hard way. Can't say I really felt sorry or that I didn't see it comin'. Didn't like him all that much, not even in the beginning. He walked like he had a shiv up his ass. Sway left, sway right. But too much heat and not enough oxygen can do strange things to a woman's common sense.

I heard you first, Fry!

As if it was a fucking contest… but no matter how hard I try, I can't hate her. Be angry (Jesus, Jack!) for about two seconds – sure - and then she defeats me with her innocence in the ways of the world. She'll never outgrow that. Only problem is the damage I can do in those two seconds… doesn't matter now, does it??

Look…No one's gonna blame you…Save yourself, Ca-roh-lyn…

One thing I hate more than losing an argument is losing an argument to him.That and the havoc he wreaks with my senses every time he says those damnedrrrrs. How did that go?Too many R's in his name. Just one in Carolyn. So, Fuck you, Carolyn!

I swear he's worse than Deep Sleep Disorientation, Post Recovery Trauma or any sort of trauma, for that matter, put together. Can't seem to make a coherent, logical decision whenever he's involved. Is either my body not listening to my brain, or my brain not listening to my body. Wouldn't he like to know how right he turned out to be? 'Cause in the end, I'm doing the saving all by myself. Yeah, how about that? For once, I should just do it his way! Stop sniffling, stop begging, get my fuck on and move on…

The blades cut deeper…

"Don't forget your Home!"

Nowhere truly felt like home. That's why I became a pilot. That's why I took up the long-haul rides. I wasn't running away. Had nothing to run away from. Had nothing to run to. So I figured that a destination fixed by whatever company chose to employ me was better than no destination at all. They say home is where your heart is. Pilots say your heart is more often than not in your pants. I undid mine a couple of times. Basic human needs, right? But it was a lie. Never found home in another's arms, no matter how pseudo-serious it got.

Just this one time…just for one day and an everlasting night…

I ran…away from him, then after him, then for him…

Because with him, all deaths I could endure. Huddled together until we couldn't see what was eating us or head-on, facing the winged demons on their territory. But what life without him? A life of misery, with those under-disclosing eyes haunting my memory as a reminder of how I failed to stick to the deal? I let him make of me a sniveling, murderous coward, and almost an accomplice but I couldn't - wouldn't - let him make of me a liar.

We were going to get out of there.

That was the one time I did not mind being wrong. I was only sorry he didn't understand. I could feel it in his collapsing body… in the way his hands raked possessively and endearingly desperate over my small frame…in the look of disappointment on his usually emotionless face…like he was the one being sorry… I tried to tell him that it was okay, that I didn't mind, that he was safe and that was all that mattered. I tried to thank him for making me feel at home…but no words came out. So I smiled: No regrets… He held onto my hand for a second longer and he was gone…or was I?

"Carolyn does what Carolyn knows best…"

The blades came off.

The only thing I ever did and knew best was running towards certain death. And yet here I was, very much alive, on the Mothership of the Yautja race, drifting in a corner of the 'verse called Deep Space.

"And I fail over and over again…"

The deck was silent. Mirko's cigarette was wasted. I heaved a deep sigh. And said:

"After the Great Hunt, after I received the Mark, after all the fucking festivities, I went into my quarters, secured the door, unsheathed the ritual knife and cut my wrists. No pain, just the finger pressing down and gone was the DS Wraith. I did not see my life flashing before my eyes. I had no life, it was forgotten. But as I watched the blood smearing the ceremonial clothes, I remembered the single most shocking discovery of my existence: that my blood was just as red as his, that even he, the infamous Bad Blood of the Verse, could bleed and that it probably tasted the same metallic, copperish flavor. And for the first time since I had been born to DS, I could see his face clearly, I could see his shined eyes and hear his commanding voice:

Save Yourself, Carolyn!

So I did. I finally did what he asked me to do. I crawled to the rec-station and had my veins sutured. I took the Kumary and plotted course to the Helion System. I bypassed that excuse they call Space Security and got off on New Mecca. I walked the streets of the Muslim District in broad daylight, like I was human again. And no one stopped me. No one shunned me. No one cried Murderer. I stopped to watch a man play with his daughter, while his wife was looking at them adoringly. We are all on the same Haji now. He lived. He moved on. But Jack was lost. Riddick was gone."

Strange to hear my voice say his name. Strange to hear his name in Deep Space.

"Gone to the forgotten worlds. I could relate to that. I could even understand it. He just wanted to be left alone, but in his own fucked-up way he was actually looking after them. They didn't see that. How could they or anyone else grasp the true terror of loneliness? To them what he did was a cop-out. To me, the lonely Wraith even among its brethren, it was just a mask. I had no doubt that in whatever solitude he found himself he still clung to some memory or illusion: their lives, their safety. Perhaps even idealistic Carolyn from long ago would have understood. Perhaps she would have packed his bags.

I went looking for Jack. Instead I found Kira. I didn't like her. Didn't like the hair, didn't like the attitude. Didn't like the catch-phrase: I'm a new animal. Go figure! Reminded me too much of my DS self. I hated her just as much as I hated myself. Ok, maybe a little more. Jesus, I thought she had standards…Mercs? Come on, what the fuck! William the Conqueror had a hard time digging out Riddick, what chances did a bunch of shit-heads, pseudo-cops from Lupus 5 stand? Hell, even I, with all the Yautja technology and the hints from Al-Imam, took some time with it. She got sent to Slam. To Ursa Luna of all places. I wasn't happy about that. I hadn't resurfaced in the Universe unprepared. I had done my homework. It was even done for me. You know what I mean: Wraith Vessels do business with Prison Facilities. Earn the wardens a few extra credits on the Black Market, and charge a fine commission. Commerce needs transportation, right? There was an entire network of contacts available to a DS Order Enforcer and all sorts of information: penal files, slam footage, blueprints, you name it. The Yautja cloak had its uses. It was too easy to pull out Riddick's file, the unabridged version. I learned things. That's how I got Horner's file too, by the way. So, having the kid sent to shine job heaven was not what I had in mind. She needed to be taught a lesson. I was angry. I was bitter. A prison transfer was signed. No med-stations on Crematoria. She never knew this. I had a copy of the new sentence sent over to Imam. Just in case anyone would be wondering. Then I proceeded to hunt down the mercs that sold her out and the traders that bought her. I ended up killing everyone who opened their eyes to me. Their deaths felt good.

But the Kumary's comings and goings drew suspicion from the Empire. Things were stirring in DS. I left the 'Verse – apparently - before the Necromongers really became a problem. By that time, I had already tracked Riddick down in the UV system. How many times did I have to kill the urge to land? Every time I looked down at the frozen planet… Down there he was the Hunter. Up here he would be the Hunted. I left. I turned my back on them. And now they're dead. Dead the laughing Father and the troubled Child…"

I would never leave you, sweetheart!

My audience was silent. Then Lya cocked her head and snapped at last:

"Enough of this shit! You are a Hunter, a territorial female, Captain of the Ship, not some whining, pitiful Eta! You bow to no one and answer to no one! This is your fight! And it's about time the Universe learned you Do Not Fuck with Deep Space! Let's ride out – she pleaded - and meet the Armada, Captain! And wipe them out of existence!"

Lou'An handed me a disk and said softly – the cuts I inflicted took their toll:

"This is a message spread across the Verse by the Elementals. It's a start…"

And so it begins…

If you have answers, please seek me out. My name is Aereon…