Thanks all for the reviews This is a short chapter and a much longer one will follow. So, don't despair, I'm not slacking off on that part.
With an all too familiar hum and rumble the lights flickered on along with a number of other devices and screens. Riddick lifted a hand to cover his eyes as his goggles had been knocked down when Fathia tackled him. Speaking of Fathia. She was seated in the control seat, checking through various statistics that would pop up on her screen every now and again as she threw switches and went over the basic take-off procedures. Riddick stepped up behind her seat, scanning over the screens and information he could find. According to her fuel gauge she didn't have enough to make it very far but according to the navigation system they had just enough to make it a few planets over. According to the screen they could make it to some planet named FX-12K, or, what he knew simply as the Storm Planet. They could lose them there. Hell, they could lose themselves there.
Riddick's attention was drawn away by a decorative dash topper, or at least that's what he thought it was. The little furry thing uncurled itself from a tight ball and stretched out languidly, little paws flexing. A cat. Of all things the little bitch had a cat. The cat meowed softly and hopped down from her perch onto the arm of Fathia's seat, rubbing up against the Merc's shoulder in greeting. "You might wanna sit down." Fathia muttered as she dropped her hand to the power switch at her side. Riddick took the hint and occupied the empty navigator's seat as Fathia pushed the gauge forward.
The little skiff she had had a lot of kick to it Riddick had to admit as the take of pressed him back into the seat. The cat remained in its spot at Fathia's side but a closer look would show that the little feline was clinging for dear life to the seat. As they left the atmosphere and headed onto their planned course Fathia sighed loudly and slumped in her seat, rubbing her temples. What the hell was she doing? This was not the fucking plan! Tika pawed at her arm, which was bleeding, not a huge gush, but enough to be noticeable. The little cat's claws dug into her arm and raked backwards, but she didn't really seem to notice.
"Where'd you get the scar?"
"Hmm?" Fathia looked up, blinking furiously.
"Where did you get the scar on your leg?" Riddick questioned again. She had been quite casual with him about important questions; time for a little bit of payback. Fathia quirked a confused look at him wondering what in hell he was talking about. Scar? What sca-oh. At the moment she caught sight of the rip in her pants, revealing the scar on her leg. A plan flickered through her mind as she rubbed the shoulder that still had a bullet lodged in it.
"I'll tell you if you do one thing for me."
"Sounds reasonable. What is this 'one thing'?"
"I'm not flexible enough to reach the bullet in my shoulder. You get that out and I'll tell you want to know."
"Anything?"
"Anything."
"Deal."
Fathia sat with her back to Riddick as he dug about in the flesh of her shoulder for the bullet implanted there. Luckily her vest had been thick enough to stop the brunt of the force and that thing hadn't shattered bone or hit anything really vital. It just hurt like a bitch! Not that she'd let him know that she was in pain. No emotions for the enemy.
"I got the scar from my first father, when I was very young."
"You're first father? How old are you again?"
"I've told everyone I'm nineteen."
"But…"
"I'm really twenty-five. If people think you're young then they'll under estimate you which leaves plenty of room open for failure."
"Seems like you accept failure pretty easily."
"It's a part of life."
The unmistakable clink of metal hitting metal and the release of pressure in Fathia's shoulder greeted her senses. Taking the lead from there Fathia pulled off her shirt caring little about Riddick's prying gaze. Besides, she was wearing a tank top, it wasn't like she was prancing around naked. Grabbing up the roll of gauze and a pad of the same material she began the tedious process of bandaging herself up. A little difficult to do one handed but it wasn't like she hadn't done this before.
"My first father was a married Merc-"
"Bad choice."
"I know. He and my "mom" got in a fight and she used ten year-old me as a body shield when my father came at her with a knife. Cut me here, here, and here."
Fathia placed a fist just below her left collarbone, drew it diagonally down to her right hip and down to her ankle.
"My brother, thank God for him, was able to get me to a doctor and patched me up. His friend, my second father, agreed to take me in once I was well enough to support myself. So when I turned twelve I went to live wit him."
Here Fathia paused the tie the bandage to herself and cut the edge with her teeth. Spitting out the little bit of gauze she tested her maneuverability. Satisfied with what little she could do she pulled her torn vest back on. Truth was, she was pretty self conscious about her body, her scar most of all.
"What's your real name?" Riddick questioned softly. She had said she'd answer anything and from what he could judge about this girl she'd stay true to her word. Fathia glanced over her shoulder as she punched in a few choice coordinates to the ship's navigation deck. From what he could tell she didn't seem to have been much affected by the question but the look she gave him he could tell she was hiding something. Turning her seat around she sighed and gave her cat a little scratch behind the ears.
"Fathia is my middle name. My real name is Zasha Fathia Dea. The name Fathia Z. Riddick was what my Merc counterpart called me. They wanted to pass me off with the name so I could have some sort of fear attached to it. Truth, I am one hundred percent Furyan blood, but I'm no Riddick."