Author's Note: Number one; Please read the Author's notes! If you have a question I may have all ready answered it here. Number two; I edited chapter six a little. I added some more description and eliminated the typos I could find. Nothing too huge has been changed, so if you don't want to don't feel the need to go back and reread it.

Chapter Seven


"Get the boy and Imam. Bring them to me," he ordered, practically flowing back inside.

She would not be dismissed so easily, "I am currently responsible for their safety. Given your past record-"

"I don't need a re-cap," he snapped, "Get me my crew."

She stood firm. "No," she said curtly.

He rounded on her, pulling his goggles off. They engaged in a spur of the moment stare down. The shine neither surprised nor phased her. Still, she felt compelled to repeat herself, "I said, no."

"If you want to keep them safe, you'll hand them over."

Being in his presence was becoming more and more agitating. His placid nature was at best creepy, and at worst appalling. "I don't have to answer to you. You are in my facility under my control. Now, if there is something I need to know, you're going to tell me. Then it'll be up to me to protect those people, not you. You're incapable."

He almost plowed her to the ground right then and there. She had no right to judge his abilities. Up to this point he had enjoyed how ballsy she was, but now she had stepped out of line. He wasn't going to stand for it.

Carefully, he pulled a finely crafted, curved shiv from some where behind his back. He tested its weight in his hand, but did not direct it at her. "You know," he said darkly, "Most would consider it stupid not to search a convicted killer before letting him wonder about."

"It is stupid," she agreed, "But it would be down right imbecilic for some one who's read your file to attempt to frisk you. Whom ever I assigned to that job would have watched themselves bleed out in less than three minutes. Am I right?"

"You kept me armed in the interest of safety, did you?" he shook his head, "Doesn't make much sense."

"Are you criticizing my methods?"

"Who wouldn't?"

She pivoted. Pausing in the door way, she restated, "I'm not bringing that boy to you."

"You'll break his heart," he sneered.

"...But. But I will ask Imam if he'd care to see you. I'll make it up to him."

He let her go, satisfied.

Re-sheathing his weapon, he made for the bed. As soon as his back side hit the sheets he stood up again. He was too antsy to sit, yet too focused to pace. So he stood, and immersed himself in thought.

He'd now seen the beginning and end of the night flyers, and he understood their life cycle. During the eclipse they swarmed over the surface, not only eating but also mating. Mating, eating, and growing. He remembered how big they were when they first flew out of the coring room; they were small, like bats. Then later, back on the dead and broken Hunter Gratzner they were larger, like rottweilers. And when they'd finally lifted off, the ones they plowed through were bigger than any man. And those bones... those colossals. They were a testament, lasting icons, representing the last to fall. Every time an eclipse engulfed T2, the night flyers ate the species to death.

He'd gathered as much back on the dark planet. He'd discovered their blind spot by studying their gigantic weather beaten bones. He hadn't had time to spare on contemplation of the perpetuation of their kind while he was sprinting for his life... but now his life depended on what he could deduce from the information given. His life, and others.

If an entire generation was found dead by the new sun rise, how did the terror begin again? If they were mating they must also have been giving birth. But how does an infant stay safe with cannibalistic relatives? It was genius, really. So that the race would go on, they had developed a method to keep their offspring out of harms way. The maggots were deadly. They wheedled the one sword that was guaranteed to strike a lethal blow to their parents: light. If you can't come within three feet of them, you can't eat them. And thus the creatures live on.

Then there was the water. The planet was one big desert. The larva had been supplanted in caves and crevices. If it rained it would take the water a while to seep into their storage spaces, and little would reach them at a time. The water was their sole nutrient. As they sucked it, they grew. Normally the pace would be slow and steady, but if there was a flood... or if they were some how deposited in a bucket full of water...

He his Adam's apple bobbed dryly. Rubbing his eyes, he wondered how long it would take them to fully develop into the beasts he'd seen.

They needed off this planet. And if they weren't given passage, he'd take it.

There was a light knock on the door.

"Yeah?" he bid them come in.

Thankfully, it was Imam. He looked worried.

"Bad news, Holy Man," he said frankly.

"I was afraid of as much," he seated himself near the door. Absently, he twisted the edge of his robe between his fingers. Riddick noticed that his forehead contained multiple knots of anxiety.

"What's she been tellin' you?" he asked, lifting the corner of his mouth ever so slightly, masking his own pangs.

"Ms. Rhiannon? She... She, uh- she's been asking questions. Questions about you," he stammered.

"And what did you say?"

"Nothing," he twitched, adamant that Riddick believe him, "I told her nothing."

Riddick turned his back on him, "Doesn't matter," he said softly, "Bitch probably wont live long enough to squeal on me any way." Imam shifted suddenly in his chair, making the plastic cased cushion squeak. "It's just like last time," Riddick murmured, "It ain't me you got to worry about now."


Author's Note: FitMama, you pinned it, good job. I know this chapter was rather short in comparison to the others, so sorry all.