Chapter VIII

Who's the Hunter now?

Deep into space, Marius ventured out of the bedroom, not daring to do so before, especially after hearing the vicious discourse between Riddick and Jack. At first he had been glad that Jack had kicked him off the ship, but then he wanted to sympathize slightly with the older man; he had to guess it wasn't too much fun to be backhanded with sheathed bugnucks. Carefully stepping into the main room, he padded through that and stopped at the door of the cockpit, which had been left open.

Jack was moodily glaring out into space, looking very unpredictable to Marius. But he had gone this far and was still breathing, so he quietly made his way to the copilot's seat and sat down, glancing at Jack. Her face was as icy as her presence, giving off nothing but a steady and pure stream of contempt. Gulping, Marius cleared his throat but still her neck didn't turn to show that she was listening. While a part of Marius was afraid for what she might do, the remaining part was very worried about her; even if she did lash out, he still cared.

"Jack?" He tried. No movement and certainly no reply. "Um, sorry about before, when I kind of ran out on you. I wanted to know just because…I was curious I guess." Now Marius looked out into space, but he kept talking. "I never really told you much about who I was, well, am, but what the hell, you understand." By now he relaxed into the chair, his eyes flitting back and forth among the stars. "To tell the truth, I was hoping you could guess it, maybe because you might've had the same experiences too. But I doubt you're the average story of the average runaway kid. I am; you've heard this a million times before I bet. Left on the steps of an orphanage, bullied constantly by the older kids, ran away, yeah, you could just look at me and know that."

He continued to aimlessly talk, remembering stories from a few years ago, sometimes frowning or smiling as he told them. He didn't see when Jack's face softened or even when she tilted her head slightly to look at him. Jack wasn't even sure he realized she was still sitting next to him or that he was even on a ship and this made her smile slightly. Were they alike? Surely there were some similarities, but Jack let the information of her charge's past stockpile in her mind, saving it for closer looks later.

"-and I remember how bright and sunny that day was. It was during lunch and I said I had to go to the bathroom. They let me go and I almost ran up to the boy's dorm, diving under my bed to get the sheets and pillow cases I had slowly been stealing from the laundry baskets. I had tied them into a rope at night, every knot as tight and firm as a sailor's. Anyway, I threw my small knapsack over my shoulder and opened the window. I won't forget that smell of freedom, the fresh salty air just hitting me in the face. I tied one end to the bed, the other I threw out the window, making sure it didn't pass any other ones on the way down. Before I climbed out I checked to make sure I had my 'winter' boots on, they have better treads and would last longer. So there I went, dropping to the street and running to the wharf. I raced along the railing, beneath the screeching seagulls and the through the stink of rotting fish. Straight to the port, where I used up all of my savings just to get on the next ship out of there. Damn I was ignorant…" he trailed off, obviously working out the next memory he was about to tell her. But before he could Jack spoke, making him jump.

"We met in a very unlikely scenario. About…oh I don't know, maybe a few minutes or a few hours after I was jolted out of cyro-sleep. That ship, the one you took off on, my version of that ship crashed. On this desert planet, filled with these monsters that only came out at night. To make a long story short, he was being transported on that ship by a fucker merc named Johns. Riddick and I really bonded more once we were on the escape skiff, we were the only survivors besides Imam, and he had been making a journey to New Mecca, on Helion Prime." Jack finished, smiling when she saw how enraptured Marius was by her past. Of course she had skimmed over the parts about the rest of the survivors of the crash, but not of the planet.

"What about your childhood?" He asked, not caring what dangerous territory he could be wandering into.

"Another time, Marius. And no need to apologize for before, I realize now I wasn't being fair. But yes, we did have pretty similar childhoods." With that ending note, his face brightened considerably.

"Jack?" He asked, watching her move forward in her seat to start setting coordinates for some destination. Her questioning 'hm' in reply gave him the ok to continue. "I thought you wanted to be with Riddick."

He saw how her hand froze and hovered in midair, above the button that completely set the course into the mainframe of the ship. Marius wondered if he had done the wrong thing as she sat back in her seat, not setting the course. After a few seconds of quiet breathing and thinking, she began to reset the course and this unnerved him.

"I mean, sure you hadn't seen him a while, but why didn't you let him stay longer?" He asked, nervously glancing out the window.

"Wasn't quite ready yet, that's all." She said, sounding eerily content and positive about it. Marius slid back into his seat and gulped, he didn't have a good feeling about the direction they were taking.

The room was pitch black except for the center, where the makeshift arena was brightly lit. Two shirtless men were fighting in the center, throwing undercuts and swiftly bringing their knee up, attempting to momentarily disable the other man. The lights just lit the closest spectators, who were yelling insults or support to the fighters in the ring. It seemed that the room continued forever, the only break in it being the raised platform that was about nine feet away from the edge of the ring. A large chair sat atop it, bolted into the steel platform. It was a throne of sorts; the only visible features of it the claws that covered the ends of the armrests and the bases of the legs. Frightening and hellish demons were etched into the flat back of the chair, surrounding the head of whoever sat in it.

It was being used now, the imposing dark figure seated upon it looking on the fight without interest. Only bare strips of light lit the figure, so it was almost impossible to tell that someone was there at all. The light also glinted off the steel chair, so it was almost a shadow king that watched the fighters. He growled at the raw idiocy that he saw the fighters using, just aimlessly trying to hurt each other, absolutely no strategy to it.

The two fighters were circling each other, blood dripping from cracked lips, torn knuckles and bruises already shining with the sweat. They were deaf to the shouts and cries around them, everything going slower for them as they decided their next move. In a rare act of stupidity, one of the fighters glanced up, knowing he was facing the 'throne'. He was suddenly caught by the two silver eyes that could haunt someone from the darkness, almost like a warning from death itself. The other fighter took this chance and rushed at him, knocking him to the floor. In a few more seconds the fight was over and they rolled off the ring, limping away, their fellow hunters helping them.

It had been the last fight of the series and the next trials wouldn't start for another week. The room slowly emptied, but the figure on the throne didn't move, watching each hunter leave and move about. Only when the room was empty did he rise from his seated position, dropping from the raised platform to the floor and walking to the still-lit arena.

He easily pulled himself up onto the ring and walked into it, his eyes avoiding the bright lights as he walked around it, smelling the lost blood and saliva of each fighter that had battled in that ring tonight. Determination was one scent he caught easily, anger another, and a few scattered whiffs of fear. The last thing he wanted in a hunter was fear and he would watch closer the next time the trials started. But his head snapped up as the lights suddenly dimmed slightly overhead. A purple figure walked towards the arena and pulled itself up onto the ring, standing a few feet away.

"Trials aren't going to last forever, you know." He said, looking at the leftover gore of the fights on the sandy ring. "After next weeks trials you fight the survivors and you pick new top hunters. After that we just have to wait it out until the next chase runs across our path. That could take a while."

"I'm well aware." The other man spoke, his silver eyes tracking the movements of the other man with him.

"Rex and I were saying that we've never seen you so bored by a seventh round trial. Look, something's got to be on your mind, Riddick." He said, trying to reason with his leader. Usually throughout the fights, his eyes would be flicking back and forth between the fighters, but he had seen no such interest in the battles tonight.

"Your perception astounds me." Riddick growled, looking up into Laiker's eyes. "You're right, something is bothering me. But I'm not doing anything about it until the ninth trials finish."

"Two weeks is a long time to let something dig around in your head." Laiker commented, slipping off the ring with his leader, who began to walk towards the doors. He jogged to catch up with him, barely able to keep up with the longer stride of the other man.

"You heard me, nothing until the end of the ninth trials." Riddick said again, emphasizing the order with a glare. The rest of the walk was silent, Laiker's mind racing.

Marius had fallen asleep and Jack had carried him to bed, tucking him in, watching to make sure he was actually asleep. Deciding he was, she had returned to the cockpit, eagerly working on a new plan that was forming in her mind.

She had to admit, she wasn't sure where this brilliant sneakiness had come from, but she was glad she had it. Jack was creating a fake identity, of a criminal that didn't exist who committed crimes that had never happened and who had a bounty that would make Riddick himself jealous. Was this a dangerous idea? Yes, it definitely was, someone could copy this mystery criminal and then real havoc would be let loose, but Jack was determined to drive Riddick mad before she would willingly join his hunting ring. Jack had the identity and crimes waiting to be sent out via a hunter's chain, which would send the information to all the different rings. Now she had to make the information impossible to base, so no one would be tracking her. This was a little harder, but she had time.

Jack had read up on hunting rings, specifically Riddick's. There was a certain part of the hunting 'season' where good chases just happened not to appear for a set amount of time. It was strange, seeing how it barely varied a day every cycle of the chasing season. Interested, Jack had read on and discovered during this time, most rings would have trials. It would invite all aspiring hunters and ones that hadn't cemented their hold in the ring to fight their way to the top. In Riddick's, he had made it so there were nine trials. The first few were tedious, seeing how fights could last seconds or hours, depending on who was chosen. Yet the pickings would properly thin out over time, the fights becoming more intense as they reached the end of the trials. The seventh and eighth trials were vital, a week in between each of them for the surviving fighters to recover. Yet the most exciting was the ninth trial, where the hunters Riddick thought were most strong and loyal would fight the remaining fighters. There were two hunters that were the top ones besides Riddick and only the best of the survivors fought those two. If either one of those would beat them, Riddick himself would step into the ring and fight the survivor.

Jack had noted with amusement and a hint of pride that no one had gotten past the top two hunters, seeing how Riddick had personally trained them. A little bit of the ex-convict in everyone, she guessed, realizing that they had just finished the seventh trial. So two more weeks until the lull in the season really set in and that was when she would strike.

She would also set trails for them to follow, but she hadn't quite planned how to end it. Jack grinned impishly, deciding that she would leave an infuriating hint or two that only Riddick would get. Oh, she really was going to enjoy this.

Thanks to these reviewers:

TotallyRiddickObsessed – Yeah, they're super picky about that. Well, just means I'll be sticking to this sort of story and I assume you don't object. Eventually she'll meet them, and yep, I bet they'll get along…great.

SueBe – We all love a stubborn Jack, it's so much more fun this way. Now not only is she stubborn but she's a trickster. Mwaha. Yeah, just so you know, there might be future Marius angst.

njrd – I know, he'll get over it soon enough. Like I said in response to SueBe, there might be some Marius angsting. Feel free to ask what.

IT – You're terrible, you know that? Yeah, I so want to make Riddick this fuzzy thing but I'm like "No! No! No OOC!" And it's pretty damn hard.