"He lives in a cave just beyond this rise." Fathia nodded, gazing through the sight of her long range sniper rifle. The young man went by the name of Greg and he was a green Merc. The young man could have only been twenty years in age and he seemed overly jumpy around Fathia. He was bundled up against the cold while Fathia lay calmly on her stomach in her normal clothing.

"Um, Ma'am?" Greg questioned, unsure of how to address to the woman before him. Fathia didn't pull her attention away from the sight but she laughed softly at the young man's nervous question. He lay beside her in the snow, visibly shaking, not from cold though.

"You don't have to call me Ma'am. Call me…Executioner."

"Executioner, Ma'am?"

"Yeah, I've always liked that name. One who puts a condemned person to death. Has a certain irony about it don't you think?" Fathia explained, glancing up to smile coldly at the Merc. He smiled back weakly before pressing the binoculars back to his eyes and training his gaze on the same spot that Fathia was watching. There was a brief moment of silence before Fathia spoke, pulling her gaze away from the rifle sight.

"You really are new aren't you? Don't stare directly at one spot while someone else has it covered. Look around the area for any signs of movement. It'll provide you with a wider range of vision and decrease your chances of being ambushed." She explained to the young Merc while moving his binoculars to a different position. Greg could only nod as he swallowed hard. In his mind he had just escaped the wrath of someone he didn't want to annoy. "So tell me what you know."

Greg took a moment to remember all of the information he had gathered over the past few weeks. "He doesn't go out as much as he used to. He'll appear outside every now and then but not for long periods of time like he used to. Sometimes he'll come back with the carcass of some beast but he's only gone for about an hour then. I know he doesn't have any firearms on him, just primitive weapons that do stand a chance against real weapons." He added, trying to curry Fathia's favor.

"Christ you are green! Lesson number two: a primitive weapon in the right hands can do as much damage as any weapon we have. Riddick's favorite weapon is the shiv, which is just about as primitive as it gets. Remember that."

Greg winced at Fathia's harsh tone but he pressed onwards with his questions whilst continuing his survey of the land. "Umm, Executioner? Why does he use such weapons?" At this a smile crept across Fathia's face. She had always been amused with Riddick's life history, it being some what like her own. Greg felt a twinge of fear; what was that look for?

"Riddick doesn't trust humans therefore he uses the simplest weapons just to spite them. Or so I've been told. Something to do with being in a slam a majority of his life or some such." Greg nodded as he moved his gaze to a different location much closer to them.

A grey hulking beast was slouching its way towards their general area. Greg's body automatically stiffened as he hastily tapped Fathia on the shoulder, trying his best to shy away from the cliff edge. This was the one place he did not want to be; stuck between a rock and a hard place. Fathia turned her gaze to him, reading his face like a book. He offered her the binoculars and she took a quick glance at the figure, eyes shining behind her goggles. So this was her target.

"He's a murderer." Greg hissed as he watched the figure intently. He had some sort of connection to the man that Fathia didn't know about. Apparently Greg had lost a loved one to Riddick and he had jumped at the chance to be there when he was killed. Personal revenge was oh so amusing at times. Fathia eyed the young man, pushing her goggles up so that her colorless eyes could be seen. The light sensors planted on either side of her eyes immediately flicked on and adjusted her vision to the point where she could see normally.

"Little word of advice here kid. To be loved is to be fortunate, but to be hated is to achieve distinction. And it matters not what you do, as long as you're the best one doing it. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a murderer to murder."

Before Greg could say a thing Fathia had disappeared to her ship that had been carefully hidden within a snowdrift where she pulled on a second belt that held her weapons. Two regular knives were in their sheaths that were sewn into her pants, both about a hand span long not including the hilt. On her belt were various other knives varying in size. Her two most deadly were coated with a paralyzing substance that attacked the body through the bloodstream and sent it into a cryo-like state of sleep. Some of the other knives held burning agents that would melt the skin. A few darts were placed along her belt as well, each containing a tranquillizer of the same strength. It was the same stuff Fathia used as painkillers, but to someone with a low immunity they could be brought down fast.

Pulling her goggles back over her eyes she made sure they were secure before exiting her ship. A soft meow stopped her in her tracks and she turned around to smile at the little cat sitting calmly on a box. "No worries Tika, I'll be back soon enough." She said, patting the tabby cat on the head before exiting the ship, the door sealing shut behind her. Tika hopped up onto the pilot's seat and then onto the control board. Sitting there calmly she flicked her tail around her paws and watched as her Fathia made her way into the snow.

"I'd suggest leaving." Fathia hissed to Greg as she passed by him, grabbing up the shield she had used on the rifle. It was actually a vest that allowed her to blend in with her surroundings. Made of a heavy duty fleece material covered by ballistic grade nylon it acted as a very effective insulation against the biting cold. Its color was made to blend in with her surroundings, catching light like snow and ice would. After all, black sticks out like a sore thumb against snow. Her gloves were made of a similar material, the palm and fingers being covered with neoprene pads so that she wouldn't lose her grip on her knives. Greg was about to say something to her but he found himself alone in the snow drift. Taking Fathia's advice he grabbed up the rifle and made a beeline for his ship which wasn't too far away. On second thought he returned to the lookout spot, he wanted to see how this fight would turn out.

Riddick was still in his same position, having sensed something amiss. The tingle on his neck was back and he was tensed for everything and anything. He had caught a hint of movement just a moment before and that had put him on edge. He knew that he had been watched by someone for quite some time, but that person was no where near daring enough to get this close. Dropping his heavy garments he disappeared into the shadow of a snow overhang, pulling his goggles over his head as he did. Riddick remained in hiding for some time, the cold barely touching the bare skin on his arms as he was more intent on what would appear soon enough.

Fathia had dug her booted heels into the ice cliff just above where Riddick had chosen to lay in wait. Her two knives were stuck into the ice as well so that she was hunched forward, her position more like that of a spider than anything else. She was calculating her weight against the weight of the overhang. If she hit it just right she'd get her desired outcome. Slowly adjusting her weight she paused, ears suddenly picking up the faint sound of movement. It was now or never.

Withdrawing her knives she quickly sheathed them before dropping like a rock onto the ledge. The snow collapsed with a resounding thud and immediately Fathia was up and away from the wreckage, a knife in her hand. She crouched for a moment, waiting for the slightest sign of movement from the man trapped beneath the snow and she was fairly surprised when none came after several long moments. Fathia allowed herself to rise from her crouched position into a much more vulnerable one. She was too perplexed to really care about her stance.

Just then she heard the familiar soft crunch of snow that any normal human wouldn't have picked up. Whirling around she brought her knife up just in time to block a savage swing from a sharpened shiv. Her foot slid a little but she remained solid as she pulled back her knife, holding the sharpened object defensively. Riddick brushed the few remaining flecks of snow from his goggles, taking his time to observe this new assailant. He was surprised to see that she wore similar goggles as him and he assumed that she had had a similar operation performed upon her eyes. That meant she would be useless without the dimming properties of the goggles.

"I know why you're here." He said in his deep almost gravely voice. Fathia didn't seem surprised that he had spoke and Riddick read that well. She was trying to show as little emotion as possible. She probably knew that he thrived off of fear. Yet, he had that odd feeling that this girl knew no such thing as fear. Before he could comment further he ducked away as a knife whistled past his face, nearly catching him on the cheek. Needless to say he was surprised at how fast and aggressive she was as he ducked away from another knife thrust, bringing his shiv around to catch her in the leg.

No such thing happened though as a steel-toed boot dug itself into his side from a vicious kick. Riddick backed away for a moment to catch his breath, noting that the girl was practically twitching from the amount of energy she had expended. Her empty left hand was clenching and unclenching as if searching for something that wasn't there. A small trickle a blood had run down her cheek from Riddick's first assault but besides that she seemed unscathed as steam rose from her breath.

"Then you should know my name." Fathia hissed, swiping the back of her hand across her cheek to clear away the blood. She could see that she had caused little damage to the beast of a man before her. He was indeed a worthy opponent, having moved away just in time so as not to be buried beneath the snow ledge and then removing himself from Fathia's range of sight. He was very worthy indeed.

"Can't say I do know."

"It's Executioner."

"How fitting."

"I thought so too."