Chapter 1

Riddick lay in the Lord Marshall's quarters, in the middle of that gargantuan bed, just starn; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} -->

Chapter 1

Riddick lay in the Lord Marshall's quarters, in the middle of that gargantuan bed, just staring at the ceiling. Man, where did this get so completely fucked up? He'd allowed himself to be led to his quarters, if for no other reason than to get that damn Elemental off his ass. She kept going on and on about destiny and fate, but all he could think about was Kyra, probably still lying there in the throne room. He shook his head, rubbing his eyes as he heaved a loud sigh. For some reason, he felt guilty about not getting the chance to even kiss her. Not even once. It wasn't until he'd gotten to Crematoria that he'd even thought about the possibility she'd grow up into a woman. A small smirk lit his face, but it fell quickly. Any image of her while she was still alive was immediately replaced with the one of her lying there on the floor. That image was permanently burned into his brain. Couldn't get rid of it. He groaned and rolled over onto his side. Gotta do something for her, he thought, opening his eyes to stare at a picture on the wall without really seeing it. Burial or something. He stood, stretching his arms over his head, and exited what had become his quarters. What kind of fucked up mentality is 'you keep what you kill' anyway? he thought with a mental snicker. It's a wonder this little armada didn't self-destruct with assassination attempts and coups and shit. He shook his head, making his way back to the throne room. He paused at the top of the steps, suddenly realizing the room had been cleaned up.

"Lord Marshall?" He turned toward the timid voice. A small man was cowering halfway behind a large pillar with wide eyes. Riddick fought not to laugh. "Is there something you need, my Lord?"

"What happened to the body?"

"Which, sir?"

"The girl," Riddick growled. This useless shit actually thinks I care what happened to the freak I replaced?

"She was taken to the med-bay, my Lord. For preparations," the Necro stammered.

"Preparations…"

"Burial, my Lord."

"Stop calling me that or I'll slit your throat with your own fucking fingernails, got it?" Riddick growled. The man nodded vigorously. "And stop hiding from me." The man nodded again, stepping out of the protection of the pillar to approach Riddick slowly. "I want all preparations to go through me, you understand?" Vigorous nod. "Nothing happens without my approval, and if anyone fucks up they die. Got it?" Another nod. "What's your name?"

"Guettler, my… sir." Riddick nodded, partly at finding out this little shit's name and partly at the correction he made. "What shall we call you?" Riddick's eyebrow rose. "Since you don't want to be addressed as 'My Lord,' sir, how shall we address you?"

"You won't." The man was shocked at how quickly Riddick disappeared, and after a lingering glance, turned to spread the word about how their new Commander in Chief wanted the preparation process to be run. He scurried off to the med-bay.

Riddick wandered the hallways, half to get a mental map started in case he needed a quick way out, and half to distract himself from the sudden impulse to grieve Kyra's death. It was a new urge, and he didn't like it; didn't quite know how to deal with it. He paused, sensing someone behind him.

"Now is not a good time to fuck with me," he warned, a menacing growl echoing off the walls.

"Lord Vaako, sir." Riddick turned, and sure enough, Vaako was leaning against the wall, a smarmy smirk plastered on his face. Riddick's eyes narrowed. "I hear you've already started terrorizing the breeders?" Riddick arched an eyebrow, and Vaako's smirk morphed into a genuine smile as he shrugged and pushed away from the wall. "Good move, I think. Establish your control."

"I don't give a shit about-"

"Let me help you," Vaako interjected, folding his hands behind his back. "I know you must be grieving your loss, but-"

"I don't grieve," Riddick snapped. Vakko's eyebrow rose, but he didn't counter.

"I understand there's some confusion as to how you should be addressed?" Vaako ventured, taking a step forward and pausing as Riddick tensed. "Should we just call you Riddick or do you think you can put up with our more formal ways?"

"I really don't give a shit." Vaako sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"You know, I'm going to give you a piece of advice." Riddick took a breath to protest, but Vaako continued: "You've won the position you're in right now. You may not have meant to, but you have. You keep what you kill."

"That's a shitty philosophy on life," Riddick snickered. Vaako shrugged.

"That's the way we live," he explained. "You've got two choices here. Either you take on the responsibility and at least feign leadership, having your Commanders and Lords lead behind the scenes; or you run away with your tail between your legs and relinquish your position, which, I must admit, would cause quite a mutiny. It's your choice."

"How about I give you control and leave without looking back?" Riddick offered, but Vaako shook his head.

"It doesn't work that way. I'd be no more Lord Marshall than you want to be without killing you." Riddick's eyebrow rose, a hand snaking behind his back to clutch the blade he'd stashed there. "No worries," Vaako smiled. "I know my place, and I know I'm not man enough to pull it off." Riddick didn't back down, but nodded once. "My recommendation is to take over, Riddick. Let us do the leading while you live the façade."

"Why?"

"Because you have the presence," Vaako said simply. "The lower ranks and the simpletons won't fight it because they fear you, and with good reason," he added with a smirk. "The upper ranks, including myself, won't fight it because, given you stick to the charade, we actually lead the armada."

"But I get the credit, assuming I accept," Riddick pointed out.

"The credit doesn't drive us," Vaako said slowly. "The upper ranks live for duty and honor. Even if our Lord Marshall is a mere title, we have the responsibility of making sure our people are cared for."

"One rule," Riddick stated. Vaako nodded for him to continue. "Give up this shit about the Underverse." Vaako's eyebrow rose. "I mean, even if it exists, the previous Lord Marshall was the only one who knew where it was, right?" The defeated expression Vaako wore was the answer Riddick wanted. "And he's dead. So even if there is an Underverse there's no way you're gonna find it. Just fucking give it up already." Vaako nodded. "Fine, then. We'll see how long it lasts." Riddick turned to leave, but heard Vaako take a breath, so he paused without turning back to the Commander.

"What of your woman?" Vaako asked tentatively.

"Preparations go through me. I want her buried here on New Mecca," Riddick ground out through gritted teeth. Vaako nodded, but Riddick was already gone.