After Masala had locked down her craft, they returned to Riddick's ship unmolested and began the prep for lift off. He ran the systems checks, and she reviewed his more recent star charts and plotted potential courses to Quintessa.
"We could put in at Geundir for reprovisioning," she suggested turning in the copilot's seat towards him. "It's a bit off in the other direction but still less time than detouring to Ballast and not as well traveled."
"Traveled enough for our needs," he responded.
"Geundir it is then," she said as she input the course. "Since it's a short trip, I'll forgo cryo."
He said nothing, only took them into the air, blasting the engines to get them free of Furya's atmosphere. She watched as the planet fell away, once again leaving her birth world. With his peripheral, he saw a line of tension leave her shoulders. Soon the stars appeared all around them, and they were headed towards Geundir. No other ships appeared to intercept or give chase and none showed on the scans. Wherever Toombs had disappeared to, Riddick knew he was bound to show up sooner or later.
His deep voice filled the cockpit. "What's it like?"
"What is what like?"
"Leaving your home behind."
"The first time it was hard, saying goodbye to everybody, leaving everything that was comfortable and familiar. This time, though, it's just another planet I'm glad to be away from. It isn't home anymore, hasn't been for a long time."
"What is then?"
The starfield held her attention. "Out here, in the black, on the move, where the only constant is the quiet vibration of the engines and the sound of one's own thoughts."
"Is that why no cryo?"
"That," she admitted. "And Shirah usually only visits during cryo. Harder to tell her to bugger off then."
He nodded at that. It made sense. "So is she supposed to be some kind of spiritual leader or something?"
She turned a quizzical expression to him, wondering what he was after. "Why the sudden interest?"
"Curious."
She let out a bark of laughter and could not help but tease, "As curious as you seem to be, it's a wonder you're still alive, even for a Furyan. I suppose we've got time for an in depth history lesson if you want one. It might even help when dealing with the elementals."
"You got anything better to do?"
"No, can't say that I do."
Over the next two weeks, the length of time it took to travel to Geurdin, Masala told Riddick the history of Furya as she knew it with supplements from the previous Blades. She told him of the Triumvirate of Leader, Seer and Factor as well as the Council of Guilds and how, for a millennia, the Furyans were a force with which to be reckoned. How this was accomplished by only allowing those strong enough in body and mind to survive to be counted Furyans. Those not born of Furyan parents could petition to become Furyan and would be allowed to do so should they triumph over the entrance exams.
She went on to explain the difference between the Alphas and normal Furyans. Alphas were exceptionally gifted, mentally, physically and spiritually. The Alpha gift respected no blood line and could appear in any household. This was why positions of authority were not inherited but rather passed on to named successors. And the Alpha gift manifested to varying degrees, only being extremely powerful when the times called for it.
He absorbed everything she said, occasionally asking pointed, highly intelligent questions. His mind was as fierce and sharp as she knew his physical skills were. In those two weeks she came to the conclusion that the Seer had been correct in naming him the lost Leader. She could easily see him Leading Furya in returning to its former greatness. However, he was lost, lost to Furya any way. She did not believe he would willingly accept the mantle, and, as she had said to Shirah, it must be his choice.
She was contemplating this loss as the first leg of the journey was coming to a close. She was once again in the cockpit, reclined in the pilot's seat and staring, quite literally, out into space. She heard him come up behind her. She said nothing, knowing he would speak his mind in his own time.
He rested his hand on the back of the pilot's seat. "You know, Masala, in all that you've told me over the last two weeks, you've never once mentioned the function or place of the Blade in all this."
A smile creased her face. She had purposefully avoided the mention of her position. "True. That is because the Blade is both a weapon for and against the Triumvirate, but most especially the Leader."
He dropped into the copilot's seat, a frown on his face. "What do you mean?"
"There are situations were a surgical strike is needed instead of brute force, when a message needs to be delivered. That is when the assassin that is the Blade is used as such. The Blade will still take on regular contracts, but should a kill be needed to emphasize Furya's point," she explained then her tone changed as she repeated information supplied by another's memory. "In 2648, the Governor of Triana hired a platoon of Furyan's under false pretenses then refused to pay the fee once services were rendered. He was made an example of by Blade Nikolai Brenner."
Her silver green gaze sought his. "The other responsibility a Blade has is to forcibly remove a member of the Triumvirate should it become necessary. No Furyan will ever willingly take their own life; survival is too much a part of our makeup. There needs to be someone available who can do it for them. That is the Blade's ultimate duty."
"Mercy killing."
"In the case of physical incapacitation, yes but not always. It has happened that the Leader needed to be removed for the good of Furya."
He mused it over for a moment. "Is that why you insisted it had to be my choice?"
"Partially."
A smirk curved his full lips. "What, don't you think can take me?"
She snorted in amusement at the challenge. "If I had to take you out, it would be from a distance. I'm not arrogant enough to think I'd have a chance up close and personal, not unless I got really fucking lucky."
He laughed then, the sound filling the small ship. "What's the other part?"
"Choice is your right, as a Furyan, as an Alpha, especially since you are well beyond the age of majority, that is, over fifteen."
"Shirah would have gotten a lot farther if she spoke plain like you."
"I don't think she even remembers how. Maybe you should have mentioned you were educated in the penal system."
A deadly stillness came over him. This woman knew a copious amount about him, had recognized him from his last name, and now brought up his past that few alive knew. She recognized the stillness for the warning it was. With a few entered commands, she brought up a file on the copilot screen.
"It's a fascinating read," she told him. "Although, I'm sure nothing in it will surprise you."
He began skimming the file, seeing the minute details of his life in green and black, dating from his time with The Company. His voice dangerously low, he asked, "Where did you get this?"
"Someone tried to hire me to go after you, despite the fact I repeatedly said I don't do live capture, ever. He mistakenly thought that I wouldn't be able to resist the challenge."
"Who?" he growled.
"A Company colonel," she answered, closed her eyes briefly to bring the memory to the fore. " A John P. Lumis."
"Lumis," he hissed. "Mother fucker."
"Before you ask, he's dead. Cock sucker did not how to take no for answer and tried to have me killed. There isn't much that pisses me off more."
"How long ago?"
"Eleven, twelve years."
"Why'd you keep the file?"
"I didn't originally. Sent it back unread with the refusal. Took it when I killed him and just hung onto it." She gave him a wry grin. "Glad I did now."
He seemed to be weighing options behind those silver eyes of his. The grin fell away from her face, and she became as still as he was, like a tightly coiled spring ready to snap. A cold intensity descended into her eyes.
"Look, Riddick, if you're going to kill me you best start now. That'll give you time to land this beast and seek medical attention afterward, 'cause I guarantee you I will do damage before I go down."
He had been weighing his options, whether or not it would be necessary to kill her. She knew a hell of a lot about him, but she did not seem the kind to narc. Would not use the information unless it was to her advantage, and he could not figure anything that might be to her advantage regarding him. She did not need or want the payday. And she had had plenty of time to make a play if she had changed her mind about live capture. She was also a link to his past, where he came from. He did not know why that mattered, but it did.
There was something else. This last two weeks, while she had told him about Furya, they had been careful to avoid even the most casual contact. Neither had spoken of the reasons why or why not, yet under silent agreement every movement was precise, anything handed between them was done in a way so that not even their fingers would brush. She stirred a feeling within him, not lust though it had been longer than he cared to remember since he had been with a woman. He had avoided thinking about that feeling. It unsettled him. It was not the protective instinct he had towards Jack. This woman did not need protecting.
Her last statement made that clear. She was not afraid of dying or of him killing her, but she would absolutely not go down without a fight. And she had skills; he would have to work for the kill. And she could get a lucky shot in, and they would both end up ghosted. He knew everyone had to die sometime, but it was not his time, and therefore not hers either.
He released the tension in his body, letting his muscles relax, and saw her respond in a likewise manner. She had been ready to fight him if necessary. A slow smile of appreciation spread across his face, but what he did next surprised even him. He closed the small space between them in the blink of an eye and had his mouth pressed to hers, kissing her roughly as the pulse passed between them. She responded in kind, eagerly tasting him before stopping abruptly. He felt the prick of a blade at his neck, and she pushed them apart. A war raged in her eyes and a hint of fear. The fear caught him off guard. Interesting.
"I have to be sure the desire is my own," she said in a hoarse whisper.
He backed off, watching her face with interest as she fought her internal battle. He knew by her scent what her body wanted, but her mind overruled it. She purposefully took control back, shut it down, bit by bit. Anyone but him would have missed the transformation entirely. He would have if he had not been closely observing. The scent of woman's musk hung in the air but it was dissipating. She backed out of the cockpit, the long war dagger still at the ready, then she turned and was quickly out of sight down the corridor. His shining gaze followed her as long as it could.
He pondered what had just happened, unconsciously licking his lips as he thought of the taste of her mouth. An alarm from the console brought him out of the reverie. A glance down told him they were settling into orbit over Geundir. He settled into the pilot's chair and began the descent calculations. Once those were done, he slipped his goggled over his eyes and took the craft down, headed for Horace, what passed as Geundir's capital city.
