Disclaimer: There's a poem by William Blake called The Tiger that I quote bits of.
Chapter 64: You're Not Kyra
This is a radical change of POV, but stick it out. It's only this one time.
This was a fic challenge by Ardath Rekha, from her board.
Here are the rules:
1. No more than 1000 words.
2. Must not actually contradict anything directly said or done in the movie.
3. Kyra can't be a villain. Whatever reason she had for telling the lie about her identity wasn't actually malicious, and her sacrifice at the end was meant wholeheartedly.
4. Most important, Jack is alive and well and a completely separate individual.
5. Someone (maybe Jack, maybe someone else) knows and can explain why Kyra pretended to be Jack.
6. No info-dumps. Reveal your information within the story's action and dialogue.
Some time ago...
"Pretend."
Kyra took the knife and hid it with ease. Pretending is all she had been doing since she saw Riddick. Pretending to be Jackie, so he would help her escape. Jackie wouldn't have minded. She told Kyra what to say if she ever saw Riddick. 'Where can I get eyes like that?' And she had, after all, killed a few people.
But neither of them had found anyone to shine their eyes, 20 Menthol Kools or no. Jackie had been so pissed about that. But she still wanted to find him. Bad enough to escape Crematoria on her own…
Kyra understood being left behind. Damn broken leg. She told Jackie to get while the getting was good.
Now she was out of the frying pan and in the fire, with this crap in her head. At least she still felt like herself. Thanks to that strange woman. Relaxing had not been easy. Accepting the information without letting it overrun her had not been easy. But she was still here.
And Riddick was still dead. Jackie was going to be heartbroken. If Kyra ever got off this ship to find her, and tell her. Maybe that woman would be able to help her escape, the one who pretended to be a child, but had eyes like Riddick. Kyra wondered…
Shit! Okay, pretend… Kyra kept her face blank. Surrounded by Necros, she couldn't do anything else. But damn if that's not Riddick. No wonder Jackie thought so highly of him. She might get out of this yet. She might get back to Jackie, might be able to hold her again…
The damn king was prompting her. She could see the words she was supposed to say as if they were on a page. Pretend…
She did it, but she couldn't think of a thing to clue Riddick in. With this many people around she couldn't even wink.
No one was paying any attention to her now. Kyra moved slowly, waiting for her opening. She owed Jackie that much. Hell, she owed Riddick now.
Fuck!
Oh, Jackie I screwed up bad. It hurts so much, I can't even breathe. Shit, now he's gonna be alone on this damn ship. Oh, Jackie, how do I tell him there might be someone who can help him here? I can't think straight, help me, Jackie, how do I tell him…
"I was always with you."
Is it enough, Jackie? Jackie? Jack…
Nearly Now...
Jack hit the floor hard. She fought the urge to breathe as the delousing powder followed her. Must be at the next slam, time to offload, and start planning her next escape. All she had to do was think like Riddick; watch, wait, and take advantage of… whatever.
She got up slowly and brushed powder from her face. There was only one merc standing in front of her glass cell. One of the creepy alien ones, not one of the human hired hands.
"You were once an accomplice to the murderer, Riddick?"
What the fuck? Jack kept her mouth shut if she couldn't sting someone with a smart-ass comment. It was Riddick Rule number nine. Or was it ten?
"We have recovered the ship on which your crime was recorded. We have verified that you are the adolescent who killed the Mistress of that ship."
Oh, that. Then why'd he ask?
"The criminal, Riddick, has assembled an armada and is seeking war with us. Why?"
Holy Hell! An armada? Her Riddick? Looking for her? Damn, who knew the old man could get so motivated?
"Sucks to be you, then." She didn't smile, Riddick never smiled after he got off a good zinger. Jack ran her fingers through her too short hair and wondered if, no, when, she would see some action.
"War is sacred and not to be entered into lightly with lesser beings. You will accompany us to determine the worthiness of such a venture."
Damn, gonna make this too easy.
"Your sacrifice should provide ample motivation to allow us to formulate an evaluation."
Fuck.
Now...
The rest of the ship had been grossly lit to emphasize the depraved art, but the 'throne room' was dim. Jack couldn't see much around the cluster of taller aliens, but she caught glimpses of blue shinning eyes.
What the fuck?
The aliens were making their speech. An impossibly low voice responded. Damn, it was Riddick! Then they parted and she could see him at last, sitting on a wide throne all decked out in black armor. There was a damn Hell Hound at his feet. Some woman was standing next to him, and she had a shine job. Hell, everyone in the room had a shine job!
"Where the hell can I get eyes like that?" Jack whispered in awe, in lieu of hello.
"Kyra?" Riddick sounded incredulous.
What the fuck? Kyra? How did he know Kyra?
Then it was on. Jack wasn't as helpless as she looked in her chains, so she dodged the first swipe at her pretty easily. The room exploded into action after that, almost as if they had been expecting a fight. Jack found herself between Riddick, and the woman next to him. He still looked top flight, but the woman needed pointers. Jack was thinking of telling her some when the Hell Hound took out her opponent.
Nice.
The rest of the battle went as Jack might have expected of a team looking eerily like Riddick. Fast and bloody.
"Do you think we have their attention, Now?" Some guy, looking like what Riddick might look like in thirty years… if he grew hair… asked when the last alien fell.
Riddick surveyed the mess nodding, before he turned to Jack.
"You're not Kyra." It wasn't even a question, hell how could it be? She wasn't Kyra.
"You go blind since I last saw you? I'm Jack, you big dumb-ass. I left Kyra on Crematoria."
Riddick tilted his head, "Then, who's Kyra?"