Chapter 10: Presents

It was going to be a good day. There were pockets of resistance, creating an opportunity for some satisfying kills. And some satisfying adulation. Riddick was beginning to like the latter more than he cared to admit. But when a crowd fell to its knees worshipfully – shit, yeah. Scratched a serious itch.

And waiting for him, back in his room, was Jack. She scratched a serious itch too.

But there was an unexpected problem.

She doesn't want to be here.

Here, where soldiers followed him and mercs didn't; where crowds collapsed to their knees in adoration and he could fuck anyone he wanted. She didn't like it.

No, she hates it.

And that was an unintended consequence of getting her back more Jack than Kyra. Kyra, he thought, would have been just fine here; rampaging across the galaxy, showing it that she was the better killer. But Jack had a real streak of . . . kindness. She cared about people.

Stupid kid. Even cried for Johns.

Wonder how much she cried for me?

The thought was unsettling. He shoved it away.

She loves me. But what happens when she hates the Necros more than she loves me?

Maybe I should just keep her drugged up. She'll be happy, and I'll know what she's feeling.

Tempting.

Very tempting.

Probably wrong.

Decided to start by giving her presents. Made some calls.

0o0

Riddick sent the door guards away, came in to his rooms quietly. He could hear the soft murmur of Jack and Ninshubar's voices. He moved silently through his rooms towards them.

Her voice, wondering. "How long would it take?"

His, soft, nostalgic. "Years. Maybe decades."

"Wow. Were we out of systems?"

"No. But it penciled out. There are places a new star system would fit--" Ninshubar's voice hesitated almost imperceptibly, "—beautifully." He was moving towards the door almost silently.

He can hear me, Riddick realized. I don't think he knows who I am. But he knows someone's here. He was grinning. Damn. Vaako nailed it. He's the right guy for this. He eased himself back into a handy door into a darkened room. The faint smell of Jack's fear trickled down the hall. She knows someone's here too. Of course she does. He's probably worked out hand signals with her. Poor kid. He could almost see Nin gesture to her away from the door and indeed there was a soft noise; Jack's bare feet moving almost silently away. Then Ninshubar eased out into the corridor. Standing in the shadows, Riddick didn't think Nin could see him. Most men wouldn't. Somehow, though, Nin's eyes locked on target. "My Lord."

Riddick stepped into the light. "You're good. How's my little princess?"

The other man's voice was flat. "Afraid."

Riddick nodded, thoughtfully. "Smart. But you wouldn't let anyone hurt her."

"If I could stop them." There was a hint of a challenge in there. Riddick grinned again. You poor bastard. You think I'm a bad man, don't you? You think I like hurting the defenseless little girl? Leavin' her bleeding? Like I'd ever do that.

Jack poked her head out the door. "Jesus, Riddick, you scared me half to death."

"Don't be afraid." He jerked his head at Nin. "This guy'd die for you."

Her look stripped him to the bone. "And you know how much fun that is." Nin gave her a sharp look.

Riddick scowled at her. No givin' away our secrets, little girl. Then he laughed. "Depends who it is. Nin, you can go now."

"Sire," he responded woodenly. His hand raised towards Jack, fell without touching her. Settled for a nod, headed down the hall.

"Wait up," Riddick called after him.

"Sire?"

"Bring your knitting tomorrow."

"Sire?"

"Something to do. Book. Whatever it is you do for fun. Solo fun."

Nin gave him a blank look, nodded, and left. Riddick offered Jack his arm. After a moment, she took it. He led her down the hall. "You like torturing him, don't you?" Her voice was quiet.

"Maybe a little. It's a guy thing. Got you some presents."

That diverted her completely. "Really?" Her voice was hopeful again. He grinned down at her.

"Yeah." He pushed into the bedroom. Swept her into his arms, spun her around. "God, I love you."

She blinked at him, her little feet kicking in the air. "I love you too. . ." it was almost a question.

He grinned. Crossed the room, set her on the bed. Pulled a bulging bag out of a big pocket, handed it to her. She opened it, blinked at what was in her hands. "They're . . . pretty," she said, surprised.

He snorted. They were stunning. The jeweled spoils of a dozen worlds and one special piece he had built just for her. Black and silver, built from spun jewels and silver and things even more valuable. It looked like his own soul. Except when the light caught it just right, then it rippled into rainbows and dark shadows dancing around the room. You could build a medium sized city for what it would cost to buy. You could buy a planetary system for the lot. He dumped the bag out in her lap, sorted out the special bracelet, latched it on her left wrist. "This one's a communicator. Wired to talk to me, Vaako, or Neith. Plus there's a panic button. You wanna talk to anyone else, you let me know." He showed her how to use it, twisting the strands into different configurations. Her eyes were shining. "Now, I don't want you to use it too much. The communication folks can hear anything you say on it. But in case you need me. Or something. The rest," he let the jewels stream through his hands, "are just pretty. Like you."

"Thank you," she said, sounding impossibly touched. She wrapped her arms around him, kissed him. He kissed her back, hungrily.

He drew back. "This bracelet is pretty much indestructible. I want you to leave it on. It's got a tracking device in it. You take it off, a phalanx of soldiers show up unless I give the counter-order, understand?"

Her face fell. "Tracking device? Like an electronic shackle?"

He snorted again. "No. You can take it off; just some folks will be coming by to check on you. And it only tracks you if I turn it on. But if someone takes you or hurts you, hit the panic button. It'll start yellin' for help. If they take it off you, at least we'll know where you were when they did. Figure it'll give us an edge."

Her eyes were big. "Do you think someone might?"

"Maybe. Why do you think you have guards? Got you something else." He pulled it out of a different pocket, handed it over.

It completely derailed her distress. "A datapad?"

"Yup. It's autonomous. Got thinking about your cheat code notion. Smart. Dunno if there is such a thing, but it's loaded up with all the Necromonger mumbo-jumbo shit I could find. Plus a bunch of stuff. It doesn't hook up with the computer system, so no one will know what you're readin'. If you want somethin' that's not on there, let me know. Don't let anyone take it from you. The priests would bitch at me for weeks if they knew what I was givin' you."

Her eyes were shining and she kissed him again. "Thank you." She laughed, a little ruefully. "I didn't get anything for you."

"You're for me," he said roughly. She gave him a startled look, like the words meant something more to her. He started kissing her, hungrily, hard, pushing past her hesitation. He felt a little bad about that, really, he really intended to go slower, but he was already falling into her impossible green softness.

0o0

Nin had been extra wooden this morning. Jack didn't seem to notice; she was losing herself in the datapad within a few minutes of getting dressed. He was very pleased about that.

Prytania was almost behind them; he was scrutinizing Tauri, their next target. The Taurians had a strategy. Heavy and bull headed, it appealed to him for some reason. No chance against the Necro superior strength and Riddick's willingness to waste his own battalions. Vaako came in, looking distinctly uncomfortable.

"What?"

"Did you order Ninshubar to kill Peter?"

"Huh? Who?"

"Peter. He was one of Jack's guards the day--" He broke off. "For a day."

Right. One of the fuckers who roughed her up. And let that bitch of a wife of yours in. "Ninshubar killed him?"

"Yes. I take it you did not order it."

"No."

"Very well." Vaako wheeled away.

"Wait. Why do you care? Our soldiers off each other sometimes."

"There are . . . forms that must be observed. According to witness reports, he did not. If he was executing your will, I would turn a blind eye. Since you did not, discipline must be extracted."

"What kind of discipline?"

"Most likely public and fatal. Depending on the results of our investigation."

Jack likes him. Likes him a lot.

Fatal discipline would solve that problem.

She'd be sad. Blame me. He sighed noisily. "You got it on tape?"

"So I'm told."

"Let's watch. Been too long since I saw a movie. Have someone get us popcorn."

0o0

The cameras told a story, and it started with Ninshubar hunting, prowling through the entertainment deck until he found Peter drinking in something like a bar. Nin slid in easily, the men parting around him. The chatter was a low roar. Vaako did something and all excess sound was pared away.

Ninshubar stopped at the table where Peter and some other men were drinking. "We need to talk."

"Pull up a chair."

"No. This won't take long. The Lord Marshal's girl. You hurt her."

"No one told us not to," Peter said lazily.

"I think that was fairly implied from our orders."

"I didn't. And I consulted with an expert, and she didn't think so either." Riddick slotted his eyes towards Vaako, who exhaled noisily. Riddick hid his grin in a mouthful of popcorn.

"Then let me make it explicit. Should the opportunity arise again, Don't. Hurt. Her."

"Oh, get off yourself. If she'd just laid back and relaxed it wouldn't have hurt a bit. She must like it rough. You fuck her yet?"

Ninshubar grabbed Peter by the throat, pulled him out of the booth and smashed him down on the table. Drinks fell and other men scrambled away from the sticky flood. Nin let go abruptly. The man stayed down, but he smiled knowingly, maliciously.

"You haven't fucked her yet, have you? Have you even touched her? She's the softest thing ever. Almost came in my pants when I got to her breasts. Fuckin' amazing. Like our Lord Marshal had her built for fucking."

Almost dreamily, Nin reached forward and broke the man's neck. The crack seemed to echo. Peter's companions launched themselves at him. There was a flash of red and three bodies hit the floor. Nin was standing over them all, a bloody knife in one hand.

He looked around the room, waiting. Waiting for someone else to challenge him. When no one did, he stepped over the bodies and out the door. Vaako turned off the recording. He'd gone slightly pink. His popcorn was untouched.

"Nice," Riddick drawled. Had a few more fluffy pieces. "Fast. I could really get to like him." He chewed thoughtfully. "We've got experts on the orders of the Lord Marshals, do we?"

"Not as such," Vaako ground out.

"Hm." He stared at Vaako hard, enjoying his discomfort. Decided to prolong it. Took another mouthful of popcorn, talked around the edges. "Just remembered. Last movie I saw was Apocalypse Now."

"The Heart of Darkness," Vaako murmured.

"Huh?"

Vaako shook himself. "It's based on the book."

"You read books?"

"When I can."

Riddick grunted. Vaako continued, a distant look in his eyes. "It's about going into the dark. About being changed." He shook himself. "We all began as something else," he said, almost defensively.

"What the fuck ever man. Watched it with Jack. She fell asleep. Said there weren't enough real girl characters. She didn't identify with anyone." Riddick snorted. "What the fuck ever. So what did Nin do wrong?"

"He didn't give Peter a fighting chance."

Smart. "We're supposed to do that?"

"Yes."

"So what, no overwhelming force in battle?"

"That's different. We give our own people a fighting chance. We're trying to save everyone else."

Is that what we're doing? "Let's let this one slide. You gonna eat that?"

0o0

The diaries of the old Lord Marshals had to be about the most disturbing thing Jack had ever read. Riddick had nailed it. These guys believed their own shit. And their shit stank.

They loved the Underverse. As far as they were concerned, it was the greatest thing since slicing things.

There was a way for a converted soul to avoid it. "The True Death," whatever that was. Lord Marshals could do it. Great. I can avoid an eternity of torture by getting Riddick to kill me in some special way. She shivered. Come to think of it, he might go for that. . . .

Kyra laughed at her. Yeah, right. Then he couldn't fuck you anymore. Can't pretend he's doin' all this for you. He ain't goin' for that. She shuddered. Nin's head snapped up from his own reading. "Mum?"

"Jack," she said, automatically.

"Jack," he repeated. "You seemed . . ."

"Bone deep terrified?" She rolled her eyes. "Yeah. It comes and it goes. Don't worry about it."

He stared at her, clearly unhappy. She smiled at him. "Look – It's just – it's just it hits me every so often, what's going on. I'll forget one of these days."

His expression was dubious. "Forget what, specifically?"

She sighed. "Look, you guys are destroying all life in the universe, you get that, don't you?"

"Yes." His voice was flat.

"And I'm in the middle of it. It's not – it wasn't my life's ambition, you know?"

"It's not your fault."

Riddick thinks it is. She rubbed her eyes. "I know. It's still really fucking scary."

He was staring at her hard. Oh shit, what if he narcs on me? Tells people I'm not down with the universal destruction? "Don't tell anyone?" she said in a small voice.

"Never."

Her eyes prickled. Turned back to the diary of Naphemil. Couldn't bring herself to look at Nin. It took a few hours but she found something. Naphemil mentioned a secret passage out of the Lord Marshal's chambers. She'd read right past it before she realized what it was. A way out.

0o0

The weeks rolled past. Jack, mostly, settled down. They'd reached an uneasy accord; he didn't tell her what he was destroying; she didn't ask. She was there for him, whether she wanted to be or not, and that was good enough for him. Most of the time. Whether it was good enough for her, that was a question he wasn't going to tackle until he had to. He tried hard to be sweet to her in the mean time. For the most part, she drank it up. But there were moments when she was so bitter he seriously considered letting her have what she seemed to want; the run of the Basilica.

Yeah. You say that now. You won't feel that way when you yank her bleeding outta some soldier's bunk. He mostly ignored her when she got too much. It didn't happen often. More than he liked, though.

There were plenty of other problems to tackle. Running a war fleet could be a pain in the butt. Riddick now knew a whole lot more about hydroponic food production than he ever wanted to. But for the most part, this place ran itself; make sure the right people where in the right place, make sure they got what they needed, and problems were few.

The right people. To the irritation of the surviving priests, Riddick hadn't "gotten around" to appointing a replacement for either the Propolos or the Purifier. None of the people who wanted those jobs seemed right. Plus irritating priests was fun. It also meant the Hierothesion was likely empty save for the Quasies. Several weeks after Jack got her concussion, Riddick made time to go visit.

"How can we serve you, our Lord Marshal?" they sniggered self importantly into his head.

He smiled, grimly. "I wanna bring someone else back. And I don't want him weak or hurt and sniveling like the girl. I want him to walk out on his own two feet and be ready to work. What do we have to do?"

Theirs was a sullen silence. Then a whisper. "Heresy . . ."

"How the fuck is that heresy?"

"Birth should hurt."

"Fine. Make it hurt. But I want him walking out on his own two feet."

There was a thoughtful silence. Then, finally, grudgingly, "It can be done."

"Good. Another thing. You did good with the girl."

"Thank you. We tried." The snigger was back.

"Can you do better?"

There was a pause. "What would you have us do?"

"It's like – it's like she's two people. The sweet little girl and the bitter woman. I really like the girl. The woman's a little irritating. Can you – can make her the little girl, all grown up?"

There was a long silence. Then something like petulance. "We tried our best to give you what you want. But the woman is the little girl, all grown up."

"Grown up hard. I like her better soft."

"We knew. We tried. We softened her as much as we could without fragmenting her. There is nothing more we can do."

"Try."

" . . . maybe . . .

"Give us time to think on this. Bring us the girl in a few days. We shall try, Lord Marshal, to make her what you want. And when you have the soul you wish to remanifest, bring us another body."

Riddick nodded. Smiled. "Does it have to be dead?"

Dark laughter flowed through the room. "Oh, not at all, Lord Marshal."