A Little Color

Zemma almost instantly regretted her choice to invite Lord Vaako to stay. She honestly hadn't expected him to accept. He looked equally uncomfortable as everyone else in the room. Only Jack kept a smile on her face as she studied the newcomer.

She didn't care for the look on Riddick's face either: it was annoyed. He was ready to cut Vaako loose and move Jaron up. Zemma had no real logical reason for resisting. But Vaako had been kinder than most in the past and she wanted to repay the favor. He was still a good commander, even Jaron said his duties were still flawless. And she felt sorry for him. He could be 'one of them' but for his wife.

But for going slowly insane. Look at his eyes.

It's just this ship.

"So you're First Commander?" Jack asked. "Will you be leading the troops against the clay-faces then?" The question sounded innocent enough, but Jack knew what they were planning on doing to those troops.

Vaako threw a dark look at Riddick. "If my Lord Marshal allows it."

Riddick didn't respond in any way. Perhaps he still would, but for now he wasn't going to set up a confrontation with Zemma. Not that Zemma planned on openly disagreeing with Riddick, if that's what he chose to do. She had no idea if Vaako was even savable.

Look at his eyes and say that.

Certainly Dame Vaako was going to be a continuing problem either way. Zemma wished she could sneak away to see the Lady's condition for herself. Maybe she could enlist Don's help this time.

Jaron came to sit near Zemma. "I've been sending ladies to the seamstress for fittings," he mentioned casually.

Ah, so he considered the seamstress and her crew to be critical personnel as well. Zemma smiled, he did miss the gala.

"I think you will be surprised at the new line available today," he continued.

Zemma raised her eyebrows. New Ladies - female Furyan soldiers. New line - Furyan styles?

Jaron nodded almost imperceptibly and grinned at her.

"I've also sent a new menu to the cooks. And I have some men who still remember how to play an instrument."

Zemma was starting to feel excited for the first time ever about a party. A Furyan party.

"I've already made arrangements for our honored guest." Jaron's voice was all too casual.

Honored guest? Zemma's eyes darted to Jack.

Jaron returned a tiny headshake.

Not Jack. A 'clay face' then? When did that happen?

Zemma looked a question to Riddick, 'You knew about this?'

His eyebrow raised the barest fraction and a quirk of his mouth said, 'Of course.'

She looked at Don. His expression was as simple as it was gruff, 'Don't look at me girlie.'

Meanwhile, completely oblivious to the unspoken conversation, Jack was trying to chat up Lord Vaako, only somewhat fruitfully. She had finally hit on a subject that interested him: his own success. She wasn't quite cooing over him, but was paying more attention than Zemma would have guessed a girl who didn't lean towards men might.

Don gave Zemma another look that said, 'Remember what I said.'

Riddick said nothing, and missed nothing, eating quietly and watching them all as if he didn't have a care in the world. But Zemma could see better.

It was Jack and Vaako that drew his attention most often.

This fact did not escape Jack's notice either. She was eating it up.

"Why didn't you wear the clothes I gave you yesterday, Jack?" Zemma asked.

"Don't you think they make ya look a little 'hippy'?" Jack was flippant as she smoothed the long silky shirt past her own slim hips for emphasis. "Besides, I wanted a little color."

Jack didn't notice Riddick rise and approach her from behind until his hands were on her shoulders. She stiffened a moment, but nearly melted back into him, until he turned the high collar of the shirt down, revealing a set of fingertip sized bruises.

"A little color?" He asked her, as she jerked away.

Don's words echoed in Zemma's head, 'Now, see, I got no problem killing THIS girl. But the Lord Marshal Riddick might not like it. Or maybe he'd just get over it?'

Don's face revealed nothing, as usual. He looked stern and bad-tempered as ever. Zemma could see nothing of the charitable face she had witnessed for the first time that morning.

Lord Vaako showed more life in his face than Zemma had seen in awhile; he looked amused.

Jaron stood, "Come, Jack, let us away. We'll have whatever your heart desires made for you." His voice was that of the kindly grandfather doting on his favorite girl. Zemma felt her heart lurch, but controlled any outward appearance.

She needs him more than I do now.

Jack was good at covering her emotions, but Zemma was better at reading them than the average prisoner or guard. Jack had wanted to make Riddick jealous; she wanted his attention in any way she could get it. To Zemma, Jack seemed very much younger than her likely 17 or 18 years. Jaron wasn't enough. Jack's slight glance at Vaako before she grudgingly followed Jaron told Zemma volumes.

Maybe it would be best if Riddick kills Vaako before Jack can make trouble there.

More dying?

A lot more dying ahead, anyway.

Are you as cold as Jack thinks?

Zemma stopped that train of thought. She needed to stay in the Now. And she still needed to survive whatever might still happen. She needed to at least see Fury.

Vaako looked as if he wanted to speak to Riddick alone and was impatient for the rest of them to leave. Don did leave without a word to any of them, but nodded briefly at Zemma before going through the door. Zemma considered it high tribute.

Nor was waiting to be fed, but Zemma didn't want to leave, she wanted to know what Vaako wanted and what Riddick would do. She moved to the bedroom and shut the door behind her, Riddick's raised eyebrows following her.

In the darkness Zemma contemplated her options. She could simply wait. Nor wasn't starving, she wouldn't eat the remaining furniture… much. Zemma looked to the panels behind which were monitors, dark and unused since she had first come here. Cameras covered the suite outside, running here to this room and nowhere else.

Still don't trust Riddick?

I'm just curious.

He won't like you spying.

Zemma didn't answer. Madness was arguing with yourself and losing.

Just a test run. I can feed the security cameras in here later with a little hardwiring.

You think they don't work? Don't do this, Zem.

Zemma hesitated.

'Trust me.'

Trust him.

If you need to know, just ask him. You don't need this to survive.

Zemma moved to the bed and sat, hands clasped in her lap.

Trust him.

She did trust him, but some habits were hard to break. She didn't know about the 'clay-face' and that bothered her. She didn't like being surprised, she wanted to know what was happening and plan accordingly.

No point looking too far into the future, old girl. Don't lose the Now.

There are so few of us left.

He doesn't know, and if he did he might still not be one of us.

We haven't even tried. He knows he is on the outside of something larger going on.

Zemma waited, counting her heartbeats.