Disclaimer: There's a poem by William Blake called The Tiger that I quote bits of.

Never Hesitate

Fuck this.

Zemma strode over to Riddick and faced him, hands on her hips. He was still unreadable. Behind her she could hear Jaron issuing orders and barking at 'Don W'Rdah.

"You'll never have this much fun anywhere else." Zemma didn't quite whisper as she inclined her head towards Jaron at the computer.

Riddick's mouth twitched slightly at the corner. Zemma smiled back. She stepped a little closer and reached for his face. He tilted his head down a little. She gently touched his nose; she hadn't even left a mark on it.

Damn it.

Riddick reached for the collar of her shirt. His fingers went behind her neck and his thumb rubbed the not quite faded bite mark he'd left there a week ago.

"Don't make me chase you all over the universe." Zemma's fingers lightly stroked his cheek.

Riddick tilted his head back and chortled softly. "You make me laugh." His face finally showed some animation as he looked back down on her. "I guess I'll stick around awhile."

Zemma tipped up on her toes and kissed him thoroughly.

Jaron cleared his throat behind her. "The other fleet isn't interested in engaging us, Lord Marshal. They say they are only on a rescue mission."

Zemma started to pull away but Riddick bit her tongue. His eyes, so close to her, glinted mischievously before he let her go.

Control freak!

But Zemma smiled.

Riddick became all business as he approached Jaron at the computer. "The owner of the ship they're looking for made the mistake of crossing me five years ago. She got her head blown off. You might mention that."

Zemma didn't stick around to see how annoyed Riddick could make the commander of the other fleet. She had confidence in his abilities. She had business of her own, if Riddick hadn't already sent the tart on her way.

He hadn't. Her Ladyship was bound in strips of her cloak, a pillowcase over her head. Zemma bit her tongue to keep from laughing. She picked up the woman and sat her on the bed before pulling the pillowcase off. The room was dim, only ambient light from the scene of the fleet coming from the living area. Zemma called the lights up a little so the Lady could see her.

"Do you know who I am?" Zemma kept her voice low and calm, her lenses up for effect.

'Give me the blue eyes,' ha!

The woman nodded, her eyes wide over the gag. Zemma pulled the ring from her pocket.

"Do you recognize this?"

The woman nodded again.

"Do you want to see the Underverse sometime in your future? Or do you want to spend the rest of your days like Lady Vaako? Alive and trapped in your own body?"

Zemma didn't think the woman's eyes could get any wider, but they managed to. So she didn't know about Dame Vaako, and probably didn't get the ring directly from her, at least since her unfortunate accident. Better to double check.

"Did you get your ring from Lord Vaako?"

The woman shook her head 'no'. Good.

"Did you get your ring from Dame Vaako?"

No again. Well, that's what she needed to know. There are other players to find, and maybe hurt a little.

"Did you come here on your own?"

The woman hesitated. That was all Zemma needed, she moved on quickly.

"Did someone send you?"

She nodded briskly. Naturally, the impulse to put the blame on someone, anyone, else made her very enthusiastic to take the way out. But Zemma doubted that any mastermind of treason would speak directly to this puppet. There would be middlemen… or middle women, more likely.

She wondered how many she would have to go through before she found the Chemist. Zemma put the bag back over the Lady's head, tipped her backwards onto the bed with one hand, and went to see how the negotiations for war were progressing.

Jaron looked grim. Riddick looked amused. Zemma took that as slow going.

"They aren't human, they just get some perverse pleasure looking like us." Jaron was looking up information on their potential foes.

"Perverse pleasures must be an inherent trait… So you think inviting them to dinner is the logical way to induce war?" Riddick sounded as bemused as doubtful.

"They want to see if we're worthy of combat. Otherwise they won't bother and we'll waste resources chasing them until we have a real mutiny."

Riddick didn't hesitate. He never seemed to hesitate.

"Let's party."