**Author's note: This is a Pitch Black/Andromeda cross-over. I don't own the characters, I just take em for a spin once in a while. Thanks to everyone over at vindiesel.co.uk for their wonderful help and feedback on this story**

Millions of stars glittered brightly in the darkness of the night, a sleek silver ship gliding past them silently as she headed for her destination. Small blackened areas of her hull showed she had seen combat recently, though no hull breaches were evident. As she neared the large gas giant ahead of her, she slowed, turning to come into orbit of the small moon circling its parent planet. A smaller, uglier craft launched from the silver vessel and headed for a large spaceport on the moon below, its descent unhurried. It landed on the bay it had been directed to, engines powered down quickly before those it carried emerged into the dusky evening. Two men and a woman stepped from the craft, pausing for a moment to allow their eyes to become accustomed to the low lighting.

********

The lights of the port highlighted the woman's short blonde hair, making it appear to have an eerie, soft inner glow. Her pale blue eyes sparkled with amusement and anticipation. Tight black leather jeans hugged her shapely thighs; a matching black leather vest top also hugged her figure, enclosing a fit, toned upper body and well-rounded breasts.

The first man towered over both of his companions, well muscled and handsome, his bearing making clear his authority. Deep blue eyes surveyed the area, looking for any signs of impending trouble. His clothing was also black, but was crisper, a soldier's uniform of a dead civilization.

The third of the new arrivals was a young man, hardly more than a boy, his eyes sombre though he wore a quirky smile. Shorter than his companions, he stayed close to them, almost as if he expected them to protect him. Baggy cargo pants and a loud shirt made him look slightly out of place with his friends, yet strangely at home with them. The younger man looked around him eagerly, his youthful exuberance making the others smile at his antics, the group moving as one towards the largest of the buildings, supplies uppermost in their minds.

Hidden in the shadows, a lone man watched the new arrivals as they headed towards the main port, the only place to find the supplies they were obviously after. He followed them, keeping to the shadows so as not to be seen, an expert at fading into the background, a hunter stalking his prey. The woman had caught his eye, she reminded him a little of Carolyn, and he was hungry. He needed something he was fairly sure he could get from her, something he could get her to give him willingly. No one who had heard of him would ever believe that he abhorred violence against women; he was a convicted murderer after all so why should women be any different to men? He knew the answer to that and a snarl rose in his throat as he thought of the difference most people would assume, that he would rape a woman before he killed her, whereas he would just kill a man.

"I've never raped a woman and I never would. Every woman I have ever had has come to my bed willingly," he thought, a slight smile tugging at his lips at the memory of some of those who had shared his bed in the past. He had paid for sex only rarely; mostly women picked him up in seedy bars or similar dives, taking him to their beds willingly and never disappointed by his performance. He turned his attention back to the blonde woman, eyeing her hungrily, watching as she moved amongst the stalls. It was obvious to him that she knew what she was looking for, she had obviously been doing this a long time, and regardless of whose company she now kept, it was also obvious that she had not always been on the right side of the law.  The older of her two male companions looked out of place in the 'market' as the three searched for the parts they were seeking, constantly glancing around him and looking increasingly uncomfortable about being in this place. The younger man looked at home here, chatting to the stallholders and flirting with the young women who hung out around the stalls. With a slight smile, Riddick slid back into the shadows, content to wait for the right moment to strike.

********

"So, do we have everything we need?" the older man's voice showed his obvious annoyance, though his face remained a blank, emotionless mask.

"Nearly, though we will need to come back tomorrow when some of the other merchants are around," the last was said with a certain amount of distaste as the woman rolled her eyes slightly. "We may as well find somewhere to stay here tonight, there's no point going all the way back to Rommie when some of these merchants will only be available for business in the taverns,"

"Very well, let's find a suitable establishment and have a drink shall we?" her commander suggested, the sarcasm in his voice unmistakable.

"Yeah, why don't we?" her eyes narrowed slightly in anger as she replied, pissed off at her commanding officer and the way he seemed to think he was better than her, better than all of them. She turned on her heel and walked off, the younger man close behind her, the older man following more slowly, his face an emotionless mask although he was fuming inside.

The dim lighting inside the tavern made it hard for the new arrivals to focus on who or what was inside, although the woman walked confidently towards the bar with no sign of hesitation or fear, as if she had been in a thousand taverns just like this one. She leaned against the old oak bar, the wood stained by many years of beer, sweat and blood, her slight nod catching the attention of the scruffy looking bar-keep.

"Wha can I get ya?" the gravel rough voice was quiet, sounding utterly bored and slightly suspicious of newcomers, strangers.

"Three Red-Hot Diesels..." her voice matched his in volume, having no trouble understanding his accent, not wanting to attract any undue attention while they waited to see if they had the right tavern. "...And some information..." she added, her voice almost a whisper as she dropped two small coins into the bar. His eyes narrowed as he picked up the coins, slipping them inside his filthy smock as he reached beneath the bar and withdrew three rather dirty looking glasses. Filling them with a dark golden liquid, he set them down on the bar carefully and eyed the woman slowly, as if trying to decide if he could trust her. A slight nod of his head signalled that he could, for now, and he moved closer to the bar, taking an empty glass and casually cleaning it as he waits to hear her request.

"We're looking for Xander," was all she would say, the look of suspicion on his face confirming they had come to the right place.

"Wha da ya need im for?"

"Parts for our ship, things we can't get from normal vendors,"

"Hmmm... nother hour til e'll show ere..." his hand strayed over the place he had tucked away the money she had given him. The look on his face told her he knew she was no cop, though her companion certainly looked like one. She nodded her head in thanks and picked up her drink, turning to survey the room and find a good place to sit. Seeing a dark corner, she wandered over nonchalantly, not wanting to draw any more attention to them than her companion was already doing.

"So what now Beka?" the older man's voice was low, his frustration obvious.

"Now, Dylan, we wait,"

"Very well. Mr Harper, why don't you see what you can find out in the market place? Meet us back here in about an hour,"

"Sure thing Boss Bug," the younger man glanced at Beka, as if to get her approval, getting up and slipping away once she nodded.

"Enjoy your drink Dylan and try to relax," her voice was quite but her amusement showed through as she settled back in her chair, waiting for their contact to arrive.

"I understand you're looking for me?" a deep voice quietly murmured, close to Beka's ear, making her jump, the warm breath sending shivers down her spine.

"Depends," she replied, looking up as he straightened. She looked him up and down slowly, admiring what she saw.  A sleeveless black t-shirt hugged a well-muscled chest, not an inch of spare flesh on him. Black cargo pants covered long, muscular thighs. A dark baseball cap covered his shaved head, while dark blue eyes sparkled with amusement.

"I'm Xander. Anton said you were looking for me. Something about needing parts for your ship?" his voice rumbled with amusement, knowing this woman was not entirely who she made herself out to be.

"That's right," she slid a small scrap of paper across the table as she replied, unable to break eye contact with him. She watched as he picked it up, glanced at it and tucked it away into his pocket.

"I'll see what I can do. Meet me back here in 2 hours," his eyes roamed her as he spoke.

"Very well, we'll be back in 2 hours," Dylan spoke for the first time, an icy edge to his voice as he sized up Xander.

"No, just her," the tone of his deep voice said he would brook no argument on this matter, his eyes hard as he turned to look at Dylan. "You look like a cop. I deal with her or we don't deal at all,"

"Fine," was all Beka would say, her eyes meeting Dylan's, telling him to trust her. Dylan acquiesced but Beka knew there would be repercussions when they returned to the Andromeda. Once the matter was settled, Xander got to his feet and strode away, leaving Dylan angry and Beka uncertain.

********

No lights lit up as Xander entered his ship, the darkness a blessing for him.  He tossed the cap onto the control consol, popping the contact lens out of his eyes and blinking a few times to re-accustom himself to his normal eyes.  Running his hand over his shaved head, Richard B. Riddick looked in the mirror and laughed, soon her would have what he wanted and there was nothing Dylan could do about it…