Title: The Road to Hell – Chapter Three

Author: Brigette (brigand13)

Summary: This chapter cuts back to Chillingsworth's ship where a change of ownership is taking place.

Warnings: Harsh Language, Sexual Content. If these things offend you, please take note.

Disclaimer: The characters of Riddick, Jack, etc. in this story do not belong to me and I mean no infringement upon anyone's rights of ownership to those characters.

Feedback: Shred away! I would love any and all feedback- positive and negative. With regard to grammar and spelling errors, I've read this through several times and I think it is pretty clean, but I may have missed some stuff. Please let me know here if you spot any and I'll gladly revise. As for characterization and tone, I think I've gotten pretty close, but I'd love to hear what everyone else thinks.

Chapter Three

At a view port that ran along the side of the late Antonia Chillingsworth's ship, Gabriel Toombs stood, staring out at the deep space into which Riddick and the other two prisoners had disappeared. "You know, Riddick, I oughta thank you for givin' me all this-hell, it wasn't even my birthday. But your big, bald ass is worth too much for me to let ya just fly away forever," he growled to the darkness. "Oh, it's not over between us, boy, not by a long shot. But first, I got some shit to take care of."

Toombs was in his early forties, with reddish-brown hair that was developing a few streaks of grey. The unique facial hair choice of sideburns and a goatee adorned his face, and he wore a perpetual smirk as though he were laughing at fate. While not handsome, the man was barrel-chested and ruggedly well-built - courtesy of a life spent chasing dangerous men without one of them managing to kill him.

Upon exiting the large sewer pipe, which he'd used to escape Chillingsworth's beastie, he had discovered that Riddick had killed not only Chillingsworth but her lieutenant Junner as well, leaving the ship effectively ownerless. He'd been so happy he could've kissed the bald ex-con. In the confusion following the rightful owner's death, he'd moved quickly to seize control of the ship and establish dominance over the crew who had been left alive in the wake of Riddick's visit. It hadn't really been all that difficult; most of the mercs were eager to have someone step up to take command.

Toombs turned away from the window and went in search of his chief engineer, Fred Twilovitch—whom everyone just called "Twitch". He needed the man to assist him in thawing select mercs so that he could create a command team for his ship. In working with him, Toombs had discovered that the man's nickname was extremely appropriate. Twitch was a small-framed, sharp-featured man in his mid-forties with perpetually messy brown hair who seemed to almost vibrate with nervous energy any time he had to interact with other people. Toombs thought it was a rather annoying attribute, but Twitch was one of the best engineers Toombs had ever met.

Toombs found Twitch in a large maintenance corridor, fretting over some of the damage that had been done during the recent altercation. "Chillingsworth, you Goddamn bitch. Just let it rampage through here like it was in a fucking park," he muttered as he made entries on a reader.

Twitch had been Chillingsworth's chief engineer for several years, and Toombs had considered replacing him, since he couldn't be sure of the man's loyalty. But, he'd finally decided to keep him on staff. Twitch didn't seem to have any problems with the new management and he knew the ship inside and out.

"Twitch, lets go thaw some ice-cubes," Toombs bellowed down the corridor rather than walking to where the engineer was doing his damage survey.

"Be right there, Cap'n," Twitch yelled back. He saved his file on his reader then clipped it onto his belt. He jogged down the hallway and then swam a null-grav tube to where Toombs was waiting. Together they walked to the large cryogenic storage section. Twitch stopped at a panel and then plugged in his reader. "So, who we lookin' for anyway?" he asked as he called up a list of names.

"Mare… Marilyn Raskin," Toombs said, leaning casually against a bulkhead while the engineer worked.

Twitch punched in the name and then fidgeted while the motors inside the large chamber came to life to retrieve the requested cryotube. Shortly, the tube containing Mare was delivered in front of them. Twitch keyed in a code and the machinery went to work, reversing the cryo process.

While she thawed, Toombs regarded the woman inside. He had known Mare for the better part of 20 years perceived time; she'd been his mentor when he was getting into the merc business. She was a tough woman in her fifties, whip thin with short blond hair and a no nonsense attitude, which masked an outrageous sense of humor and appreciation for the ridiculous. Probably why she's put up with my ass for all these years, Toombs thought.

While they'd been lovers in passing, it had been a temporary arrangement with a mutually amicable parting. She was about the only person he considered a true friend and he trusted her implicitly—just the sort he needed to pay attention to details which he couldn't be bothered with and to handle the ship when he was gone. For Toombs, the decision to make her the ship's XO was an obvious one.

The cryo system finished it's work then expelled Mare from the cryotube into a warming chamber below. She dropped to her knees, breathed deeply for a moment, and then shook her head vigorously. Finally, she raised her eyes to where Toombs lounged in the hallway and gave him a tight smile, "Gabe Toombs. It figures."

He grinned back at her, "Mare… how ya been?"

"Frozen," she said rolling her eyes at his unnecessary question; she then stood and stretched grimacing as she worked out the kinks in her joints. "And you?"

"Well, I happened upon this here ship, that someone was kind enough to die and leave behind. Thought a tough, old bird like you might be interested in helpin' me run her."

Mare's eyes widened as understanding began to set in, "Chillingsworth… Did you?"

"Hell, no! Didn't have to. Big, bald con by the name of Riddick took care of it for me. By the way, remind me to thank him when we catch his ass. So, you in?"

"Like you need to ask… Of course, I'm in," she said enthusiastically and then exited the warming chamber. She extended her hand to Toombs to seal the deal.

Toombs clasped her hand, then pulled her to him and enveloped her in a fierce hug: "Good to have ya on board, Mare! We're finally gonna hit the big time."

Mare laughed as she returned his hug, then pushed away from him, "So who else you got on the team?"

"Well, this here's Twitch," he introduced as he gestured to the small man who was shuffling his feet a few meters away. "He's gonna keep this boat humming for me; ain't ya, Twitch?"

"Ah…Sure, Cap'n," Twitch said as he stepped forward. He and Mare shook hands, and then Twitch stepped back. He rubbed his hand nervously along his leg as though even the brief contact had bothered him. His eyes darted from Toombs to Mare and then finally down to his reader.

Mare glanced at Toombs with raised eyebrows. He smirked at her skeptical look; she was obviously questioning his choice of Twitch for the engineering position. In answer to her unvoiced query, he said, "Hey Twitch, why don't you give Mare a quick run down of the old girl's specs while I decide who else to thaw out."

Toombs took the reader from him, and Twitch stepped aside with Mare and launched into a detailed analysis of the ship's capabilities. The man became visibly calmer as he settled into a subject with which he was comfortable. Mare's face showed dawning respect for the jittery engineer, eliciting a low chuckle from Toombs.

Toombs, then, dropped his attention to the reader in his hands and he began scrolling through the lists of names. Need a navigator… he thought. The screen popped up the name Jericho Barnes: Hey, there's a possibility.

Jericho was another old-hand merc whom Toombs had worked with before. The man was an absolute financial wizard as well as being a damn fine navigator. Toombs punched a key and the mechanisms inside the large storage room whirred to life again, delivering another cryotube. This tube was occupied by a tall ebony-skinned man of indeterminate age with small braids cascading to his mid-back.

"Jericho, huh?" Mare queried as she stepped up behind him, having finished her conversation with Twitch. "I thought you didn't like him?"

"It ain't that I don't like the stoic bastard. He's just got no damned appreciation for a good joke," Toombs informed her as he passed the reader to Twitch so that he could unfreeze Jericho. "But he can plot a course blindfolded while he figures complex depreciation in his head. Plus, he's the most intractable negotiator I've ever met. We're gonna need that when we start droppin' off our cargo—old Chillingsworth left us with a whole load of bounties that need collectin'."

Within ten minutes, Jericho was thawed and had joined them in the hall. He quickly agreed to join the crew when Toombs put him in charge of determining how much the cargo was worth and then identifying a route that would maximize their bounty for a minimum effort in a sweep around the sector. Jericho rewarded them with a rare shark-like smile and then excused himself to begin his calculations.

"Alright now, we got an XO, a navigator-slash-financier, and an engineer. And of course, the best Captain a ship could ask for," Toombs listed, "What else ya reckon we need, Mare?"

Mare thought for a moment and then shrugged. "Could use someone to head security. You know how mercs get when they're stuck on a boat for long, even one this size. And we can't keep them all frozen. Wouldn't hurt to have someone who could handle any situations when they pop up. Security chief could also take care of researching any new hands we pick up."

Toombs claimed the reader from Twitch once more and began scanning through names. "Security… Security…Whoa! Hello, baby. Who are you?"

Mare and Twitch flanked him to look at the screen, which displayed a picture of a young woman. She was exceedingly pretty: long dark hair that hung in dense tangled curls, full pouting mouth, and a curvaceous figure. The name Kyra was displayed in her profile with no surname. Toombs quickly engaged the retrieval mechanism and brought the tube to them.

"Toombs, this is not the time," Mare cautioned. "Besides, look at her, she's a child. She can't be more than about sixteen. Are you turning into a pedophile on me?"

"Says here she's twenty-two, all legal and shit!" he shot back. "And her profile says that she brought in over twenty cons on her own before she signed with Chillingsworth. You don't do that if you're only sixteen. Hell, she's got a black belt in five separate martial arts! Hot DAMN, I've got my new security chief!"

"Dammit, Toombs! For once will you think with your big head instead of your little one!" Mare snapped as he grinned and then passed the reader back to Twitch.

"Thaw her," he commanded.


In his damage assessment, Twitch found that the rampaging creatures had gotten into the star-drive system. Toombs cursed Chillingsworth thoroughly when Twitch informed him that the repairs would take about six weeks to complete because of the need to fabricate some of the parts. Until it could be fixed, they were stuck.

Toombs decided to spend his downtime on something—or rather someone—new. While his team worked on the ship, he launched a focused pursuit of his sexy new security chief. At first she was resistant to his advances ("I don't sleep where I work," she told him.) but Toombs would not be denied so he turned on the charm full force. Toombs rarely chose to be charming (he was just more comfortable being irascibly good-natured) but that didn't mean he didn't know how

Over the next few weeks, Toombs deliberately saw a lot of Kyra, although not as much as he would have liked. He'd wanted her in his bed from first sight, but as he got to know her, he found the woman to be extremely compelling on a higher level as well. She took to the security chief position as though she'd been born to it; even Mare seemed to be impressed with her ability. As Kyra worked to establish respect among the rest of the crew, Toombs saw her drop men three times her size with a minimum of effort. In spite, or perhaps because, of her beauty and innocent appearance, he began to consider her one of the most dangerous people he'd ever met—a significant statement in light of his career choice. Of course, her dangerous competence at her job only redoubled his resolve to seduce her.

Within a week, he had talked her into acting as his sparring partner. It gave him an excellent opportunity to flirt with the woman. ("Nothing like combat to get the juices flowing," he'd explained to Mare as she helped him treat a particularly nasty bruise that Kyra had given him during one of their sessions. Mare had simply shaken her head.)

As his freetime was increasingly spent in her presence, he found himself enjoying her company more than he'd anticipated. His libido urged him to push things to the next level, but he resisted the urge. He kept things light, wanting to draw her to him.

After their sparring matches, they would share stories about bounties they'd collected and they found that they had an amazing amount in common. Other than Mare, Toombs didn't remember relating to a woman quite so equitably. And he could tell that under his concerted effort to woo her, her resolve about work relationships was crumbling.

To his delight, she started flirting with him as well. She seemed to need to touch him when they were together; frequently, she would rest a hand on his shoulder or arm as they spoke. The little caresses seemed completely unplanned on her part, but they ignited his lust making him want her all the more.

The anticipation was driving him to distraction and affecting his other activities as well. Finally, Mare cornered him in his office and forced the issue: "Dammit, Gabe. Will you quit mooning after the woman and just fuck her! There's shit you need to tend too and you aren't doing it."

"I don't wanna rush things," he told her.

"Since when?"

"Since Kyra," he snapped. "Damn, Mare. She's different. I want her to want it… me as much as I want her. And, goddamnit, I enjoy her fucking company and I don't wanna lose that cause I pushed too much."

The woman smiled at him and shook her head, "Gabriel Toombs, mercenary scourge, is looking for a relationship. Who'd have thought it?"

"Piss off," he snarled, glaring at the top of his desk, but he didn't contradict her because he knew it would do no good. Mare knew him too well and she was right. He did want a relationship with Kyra that went beyond simple sex. The woman had gotten under his skin.

Mare laughed at his consternation, "For what it's worth, she wants you, too."

"Not that I'm disagreeing, but how ya reckon?"

"Oh, come on, Gabe. She can't keep her hands off you when you're in the same room. Now will you stop with the blue-balls bullshit and just go jump the girl. Trust me, you'll both feel better. And then maybe we can get this hunk of junk moving and go cash in those bounties that Jericho has been so gleefully adding up."

"Mare, if you're wrong about this, I'm gonna kick your ass," Toombs informed her with a smirk that softened his words.

She grinned back at him and then left the room, tossing parting words over her shoulder, "Go get her, Tiger."


Toombs sauntered into the gym where Kyra had already started her workout. Several other mercs were using various training machines, but Kyra had claimed a large mat and was stepping through a martial arts form that Toombs didn't recognize. She was barefoot, wearing knee-length tights that fit her trim legs like a second skin along with a sport-top that emphasized her chest and revealed a tempting expanse of abdomen. Her movements were precise and controlled, but they warned of lethal power. Her face was set into a fierce expression. The site would have caused most people—especially those she'd fought before—to give her a wide berth out of fear for their own safety; Toombs found it exceedingly arousing.

He skirted around the gym, and then stalked quietly toward the woman. As he reached a point about two meters from her, he lunged forward intent on grabbing her with a wrestling hold that would allow him to force her to the ground. Apparently, she heard him move—or for that matter, she could have been tracking him all along—because she turned toward him and dropped her shoulder as he reached her. She then grabbed his outstretched arm and, with an amazingly effortless flip of her hands, used his own momentum to send him flying to the far side of the mat.

"Oh, baby, you know I love it when you do that," Toombs purred as he rolled with the fall and rose into a crouch with a leering grin. Kyra cocked her head and narrowed her eyes at him then both of them began a slow circle around the mat. Toombs watched her movements waiting for an opening. "Come on, sweetheart, let me have it."

Toombs saw Kyra tense and then she suddenly leapt forward and kicked at his midsection. He sidestepped at the last moment and wrapped his arm around her leg as it slipped past his gut. He then swept her other leg with his foot causing her to tumble to the ground on her back. "Hey, this has potential," he said with another grin, appreciating her position.

As he moved forward to push his advantage, Kyra kicked out again and this time connected. Her foot caught his torso and she once again used his own momentum to send him sailing past her onto the mat. Toombs immediately rolled to his feet, but Kyra had already stood and was facing him. "Oh, come on, Kyra, why you fightin' so hard? You know you want it as much as I do."

His comment finally drew a feral grin from her as she circled warily. "Would you want it so much if I didn't fight this hard?" she taunted him. She then danced in with a quick snap kick at his head, which he dodged easily. His hand snaked out at her leg and contacted shoving it hard to throw her off balance. As she stumbled, he slipped an arm around her waist and then threw her to the floor. Before she could recover, he was on her, straddling her midsection.

As he tried to immobilize her hands, he realized, too late, that he'd straddled her too far forward. Her legs snapped up and wrapped around his throat. She heaved, throwing him backward and reversing their positions; she ended straddling him with one hand around this throat and the other fist cocked to deliver a finishing blow.

Toombs laughed heartily: "Hey, baby, you wanna be on top, I'm okay with that." He slipped his hands up and grasped her waist. He caressed the deliciously exposed skin with his thumbs as he splayed his fingers across her back.

Kyra's arm relaxed and she rested it on his chest; he could feel the warmth of her hand through the lightweight T-shirt he wore. She raised her other hand from his throat to stroke gently along his face; her fingers traced the shape of the sideburn on his cheek. He felt himself grow hard at her attentions. From her perch, she apparently felt it too because she frowned slightly and then shook her head, "You know, I shouldn't do this. It's never a good idea to get involved with someone you work with. And technically, you're my fucking boss."

"I could fire ya, if it'd make ya feel better," he offered grinning wickedly; then quickly twisted his head to place a light kiss on her palm.

"No, that's all right. I think I've decided to make an exception," she assured him with a sultry laugh. He felt her relax against him and she moved her hands to either side of his head. Supporting her weight on her arms, she bent slowly forward until her lips were a whisper away from his. He stared at her intent on letting her take the lead, but then, she exhaled. The sweet, cinnamon scent of her breath destroyed the last of his restraint.

His arms wrapped around her crushing her to him and their mouths met in a fierce kiss. Toombs growled and flipped her onto her back, drawing a gasp from her. He moved his mouth to her throat and ran his tongue along the delicate line of her collarbone. She sighed and threaded her hands through his hair. Her fingers danced along his scalp sending electric tingles to his groin. Toombs slid his hand along her side, and slipped it under her top to cup her full breast. He brushed the rough pad of his thumb over her nipple eliciting another gasp. He grinned down at her and asked, "You like that, baby?"

She answered by slipping her hands under his shirt and scraping her finger nails roughly across his back drawing tiny welts of blood. "I'll take that as a yes," he chuckled. She then pulled him back down to her for another deep probing kiss. He stroked his cheek against hers, allowing the roughness of his beard to gently scratch along the smoothness of her skin. This drew a moan of pleasure from Kyra.

Suddenly, he heard a sound that pulled him away from his task. Several of the crew had abandoned the exercise equipment and were watching them—some awkwardly, but most with broad eager leers. "Get… Out…" he snarled. Toombs glared at them through a rising haze of passion as Kyra's hands stroked along his sides. When several seemed reluctant to leave the show, he roared, "NOW!"

The mercs scattered like bits of paper in a stiff breeze. When the pair had the room to themselves, he turned his attention back to the woman beneath him on the mat. Her blue eyes sparkled with laughter and she moved her hands to stroke his upper arms as he supported himself above her. "You know, Toombs, if I'd realized the fringe benefit of fucking you was to get the gym to myself; I'd have done it days ago," she teased.

"Woman, I'm the goddamn captain. When you're fucking me, you can have whatever part of this ship you want to yourself… as long as you do it with me around," he informed her. He then bent and kissed her again, this time hard, his lips bruising against hers. She caught his lip between her teeth and nibbled gently further heightening his passion.

A moment later, they had removed their clothes and were moving on the mat in an almost parody of the wrestling that they had done there previously. Kyra screamed his name and Toombs felt her climax beneath him pushing him over the edge with a growl. His arms buckled where he'd been supporting himself above her. He angled his collapse to the side so as not to crush her and snaked his arms around her pulling her close to his body.

They lay there for several minutes with their bodies entwined. Finally, Toombs raised himself onto an elbow and stared at her face. She smiled at him and he grinned back. "You're probably aware that I've wanted to do that since I first saw you," he said.

"Yeah. And?"

"And I just wanted to let ya know that it was worth the wait. Even the weeks of blueballs you've put me through," he said with a chuckle.

"Yeah, it was," she agreed. Her smile broadened and she pulled his face to hers and kissed him thoroughly. Suddenly, she performed a kicking roll maneuver that ended with him on his back and her straddling his abdomen. She spread her hands on his chest and then, teasingly, scraped his skin with her nails.

He felt himself begin to harden once more and he was suddenly glad of his abstinance while he'd pursued her. He waggled his eyebrows at her, gave her his best lascivious grin and then asked, "Wanna go again?"

"You better believe it. But this time I get to be on top," she informed him.


As the necessary repairs neared their completion, Toombs called his staff together for a command meeting. They were waiting in his conference room when he arrived and watched him expectantly as he walked across the room and seated himself at the head of the table. Toombs reveled in the attention as he dropped his bulk into the chair. Mechanisms inside of it shifted slightly forming it to his frame. "Well, Chillingsworth may have been a total nutcase, but she definitely had good taste in chairs," he informed the others as he settled himself. He then sat back and surveyed the four individuals sitting down the table from him mentally noting their finer points—especially Kyra's.

Toombs didn't know how long he sat regarding them, but he realized that his mental rundown was apparently taking a bit too long when Kyra demanded, "Dammit, Toombs, stop staring at us and get down to business. We got better things to do than sit here all fucking day."

"Kyra, my girl, you need to learn a little patience," Toombs said amusement tinging his voice. He gestured around the table. "You don't see the rest of 'em gettin' all antsy, do ya? You'd be one of the best mercs in the galaxy if ya'd just learn a little patience."

"Fuck you, Toombs," she snapped, her eyes flashing dangerously.

"Maybe later, baby," he told her with a broad suggestive grin, then dodged sideways as she sent the stylus of her reader whizzing toward his head. The rest of the team observed the exchange without comment; they had grown used to the antics of Toombs and his lover in the past couple of weeks.

Toombs retrieved the erstwhile missile and sent it spinning across the table to land precisely in front of Kyra. Then, Mare cleared her throat and gazed at him with a quirked eyebrow. Toombs grinned back at her impishly and raised his hands in mock surrender, "Okay, okay! Holy hell, I think everyone here's lost their sense of humor or somethin'."

He settled himself back in his chair, "All right, first order of business. We need a name for this bucket of bolts."

"You don't like Kubla Khan?" Twitch inquired narrowing his eyes appraisingly at Toombs.

"Naw, that's a pansy name! We need somethin' with a little more zing!"

Mare's lips twitched as she suppressed a smile. She looked inquisitively at Toombs, "Do you have anything in mind?"

Toombs grinned again, "Ahh, Mare, ya know me too well. I got a great name: the Undertaker." He leaned back proudly spreading his hands in front of him as though to present some great discovery.

At that, Mare snorted. "Undertaker? Gabe, you've gotta be kidding!"

"Naw, it's clever. See, the undertaker brings men to tombs. And that's this ship, it brings men to Toombs." He beamed at them over his joke waiting for them to acknowledge its inherent cleverness and superiority. Four faces stared back at him with a mixture of expressions, none of which conveyed the enthusiasm Toombs felt his bit of wit deserved. Maybe they need a second for it to sink in.

"Undertaker…tombs. Undertaker… Toombs," he said again indicating himself, then expectantly watching them for a better response. When their expressions didn't change, Toombs snarled, "Don't ya get it?"

Twitch looked at him and stated flatly, "No, we get it fine. It's just not funny."

"God dammit, like I said before, you people go no sense of humor! Well I don't give a shit, I like the name, and by fuck, that's what we're calling MY ship!"

Toombs sulked a moment before Mare spoke up, "It's fine. One name is as good as the next."

"No, it ain't! And Undertaker's a great name!"

"Whatever!" Kyra interjected. "Call the damn ship whatever you want. For all I care, you can call the shuttles pallbearers and the emergency skiffs coffins. Can we just get on with it?"

The rest of the team groaned aloud as Toombs' face lit up at Kyra's sarcastic remark. Taking her suggestion literally, he slapped the table and exclaimed, "There ya go, baby! Now your gettin' into the spirit of it!"

As three sets of eyes turned accusingly to Kyra, she shrugged sheepishly, "Uh… Sorry, guys. You know how my mouth runs away with me sometimes."

Toombs gave a husky chuckle and waggled his eyebrows, greatly amused with himself, "All right, so the ship's the Undertaker and the shuttles are Pallbearers One through Six. I think we'll skip callin' the emergency skiffs 'coffins' though. Might make folks a little edgy."

At that statement, Mare erupted into laughter. Toombs sat back, finally satisfied at getting a response from one of his audience. Mare took one look at his smug expression and the woman started laughing even harder. Her mirth was infectious, bringing smiles to the faces of the rest of the team; even the stoic Jericho smirked at her as she struggled to bring her fit of hilarity under control.

"Gabe…Toombs… you motherfucker…" she gasped, breathing heavily as she visibly fought to regain her composure. "I always did find you… too damned amusing…for my own good."

"Aw, Mare, you know you love me," he said, grinning at her fondly. He then picked up his reader and began scanning the real agenda.

Satisfied that they had finally at least moderately acknowledged his comedic genius, Toombs quickly turned business-like and ran down the list of important topics that needed to be addressed before they could start delivering the load of bounties. Mare and Twitch were already working on acquiring new transponder codes; Mare had actually anticipated the name change and was waiting on that to finalize the new codes. She shook her head slightly in mild exasperation as she wrote down the name Toombs had selected.

Jericho, who had completed his survey of the bounties, had extremely good news: "The load we're hauling will bring in about 20 million UD. Plus in cataloging all Chillingsworth's possessions I've discovered additional art and furniture and such worth about 4 million UD. Her taste was truly shit, so you probably won't mind getting rid of the stuff. Also, I had Twitch crack open a safe from her…uh, your… bedroom; it was full of hard currency to the tune of approximately 800,000 UD. Altogether, that gives about 25 million UD to work with. No two ways about it, the bitch was loaded."

"Yeah, and now it's all ours," Toombs purred reveling in the thought of being rich. "How much we gonna have left after we pay off this load of mercs?"

Jericho tapped a series of quick calculations into his reader, "I estimate about 18 million UD."

"Oh, hell yeah! People, we're rich!" Toombs said with enthusiasm. "And we're…"

Twitch cleared his throat drawing a raised eyebrow from Toombs, "You, uh… you know Toombs, we're one shuttle short. An' it was the best of the lot. That Riddick guy really knew his hardware; he, uh… he took the command shuttle. It ain't gonna be cheap to replace."

"Riddick," Toombs growled. "How much?"

"Well, Antonia had that one really decked out… it, uh… I guess you could call it her baby," Twitch answered nervously glancing back and forth from Toombs to Jericho. "If you want the exact same specs you're looking at about 5 million UD. You can back off a lot of the luxury items and probably drop it to about 4 mil new or maybe 3.5 mil good-used."

"Dammit, Riddick! You're costing me money, boy," Toombs snapped in irritation. He fumed silently for a brief moment, and then exhaled heavily and his mood improved. "Ah well, that still leaves us with at least 13 million UD. We're still rich."

"Toombs, there's one more thing," Mare inserted smoothly. "The repairs. That little rampage stunt of Chillingsworth's did a fair amount of damage that Twitch can't repair out here. We're really just limping even with all the repairs he's already made. We need to dock the ship and do some real work before she'll be truly sound."

"Son-of-a-bitch! How much?" he looked at Mare, who turned to Twitch who if possible squirmed even more nervously.

"I'd say… uh um… maybe four to five mil," he said reluctantly while rubbing his hands along his pants in a habitual nervous gesture.

"Damn Chillingsworth and her fucking spectacles! If the bitch wasn't dead, I'd kill her for costing me so much money," he stated flatly. No one bothered to point out that if she hadn't been dead, he wouldn't have had the money in the first place.

With the financial situation under control, they moved quickly through the rest of the items on the list and twenty minutes later Toombs dismissed them. As the others moved to leave, he leaned back and propped his feet on the edge of the table with his ankles crossed then laced his fingers behind his head grinning in satisfaction. When Kyra moved past him to leave the room with the others, he shot an arm out and grabbed her around the waist then spun her into his lap.

"Hey, baby, you ever make it with a millionaire?" he asked her. She didn't answer aloud, instead giving him a sly smile that drew a chuckle from him. "All right then, you ever make it with a millionaire on a conference table?"

Kyra swung one leg over to straddle him then leaned forward and brushed her breasts against his chest. "What do you think?" she purred as she tantalizingly ran the tip of her tongue over his bottom lip.

Toombs growled in appreciation and pressed a button on the arm of his chair to lock the conference room door, ensuring their privacy. With that he swept her up, deposited her on the conference table and began removing their clothing, intent upon showing the little minx precisely what he thought…