Disclaimer : I, unfortunately, do not own Pitch Black, CoR, or any of the characters or places portrayed in the movies. I'm sure everyone can guess exactly who I'd like to own from said movies, but alas, it is impossible until someone builds a trans-dimensional gate. If that ever happens, I do believe that mercs will be the least of Riddick's worries.
A/N : I have decided to return to for the time being. Why? Well, for one thing, this is the best place for instant feedback, and for another, I miss the people here. So, to kick off the fact that I'm not grounded anymore, I shall repost 'Darkness, Be My Friend' and put up the new version of 'The Other Side of Dawn' along with this story here.
Chapter One : Deals With the Devil
It was a simple choice, really. If he opened his eyes the lights would sting like a thousand needles being shoved into his retinas, but if he kept them closed there'd only be the mild discomfort of what little illumination could filter in through the thin skin of his eyelids.
Besides, there were other means by which he could map out the room. He already knew how small it was from what little he'd seen before his captors had appropriated his goggles.
One singular air vent stuck in the ceiling somewhere above his head pumped cold air into the room, he could hear the faint creak of the metal ducts and feel the movement of the atmosphere against his skin. That meant there was an out take vent somewhere in the room as well, more than likely on the floor or low along the wall. Listening closely, he could hear the faint echoing of sounds reverberated along the lower ducts, carried over from other rooms.
Neither of the vents would yield useful results as an escape method. This wasn't a large building so the ducts would be too small for someone of his size.
Instead of immediately dismissing the vents, however, his mind conjured up an image in conjunction with the ducts. He saw the scrawny frame of someone crawling awkwardly along them, elbows and knees bumping into the metal, with a pale face flinching slightly at every faint sound. A short haired girl in baggy boy clothes, biting her lip but looking out at the world with innocent round eyes.
He could almost see her tumbling out of the upper vent, a smile on her face when she saw him. It almost made him smirk back, but he caught himself just in time.
She was not going to be there.
Riddick growled, a low rumbling from deep inside his chest, audible evidence of his frustration. He shifted his arms, feeling the cold metal of the restraints that held them not only securely behind his back but also to the chair. Similar chains held his legs in place to the floor. It was the whole set up to keep him from getting out of the room, minus the bit. Even so, just having the chains on was enough to remind him of the bitter taste of having a three-quarter inch round bar of steel shoved between his teeth.
The room smelled of old paint and electrical wire, not exactly a strange combination, nor a helpful one. It told him nearly nothing about the situation save for the fact that the building was at least more than five years old. He could smell blood, his own, and felt it trickling down the side of his face from a cut on his forehead. There was also a faint pain in his left leg from a ricocheted bullet. Neither of the wounds were incapacitating, so he ignored them.
There were also the scents of people, some old and some relatively new. The freshest were the ones who had put him in the room in the first place, he could even still catch the faint tang of fear that those particular four had given off.
They hadn't been used to dealing with someone who'd kill them on a whim, those guards. They'd simply been doing their job and it was in their favor that he'd already been chained up when he was put into their custody. He'd been weakened by a high dosage of tranquilizers, but not completely knocked out. It took a lot more than that for him to be rendered fully unconscious.
The fact that cryo had no real effect on his conscious mind had been a valuable asset in escaping payday happy mercs in the past. It was also a fact that had impressed the girl.
Again his thoughts drifted and he remembered the awe on her face when he'd divulged that one little detail. Her eyes had widened and she'd gaped a little, asking how it was possible. He'd told her the truth, that it hadn't really started happening until after his stint in Slam City at Ursa Luna, sparing no details. She'd been horrified but still in awe at the same time. Apparently anyone who could survive the unauthorized horrors in the basement of the Newtonian Institute was worthy of the up-most respect in her book.
Riddick shook his head free of those memories, they were getting in the way of the assessment of the situation.
There were footsteps coming from somewhere, getting closer with each second that ticked by. They were stiff, flat soled and expensive shoes, he could tell by the sound of them. It wasn't a good sound, as those particular shoes were the kind a high-ranking officer would wear. Suddenly he knew exactly where he was and the realization sent ice through his veins.
Company offices, the future was looking bleak indeed.
The footsteps stopped abruptly and the faint click of the lock being undone reached his ears. He tensed, tilting his head to listen as the knob turned and the hinges creaked with the door's opening. In walked one singular person and with their entrance the lights dimmed enough for Riddick to open his eyes. He did so and was not surprised to see the military uniform that his new company wore. He was, however, slightly put off by the rank insignias.
Apparently this man with the graying black hair and hard eyes was a General. There was a burn scar on his face, the kind of burn that could only be sustained from the acidic substance that gave spitfires their name.
This 'General' had been on Sigma 3.
"Bradley, wasn't it?" Riddick growled, the name floating up in his mind along with the image of a much younger person. "Been a while."
"Fourteen years, almost to the date," Bradley returned with a nod. There was a folder in his hand and a pistol strapped to his belt. "You do know that Sigma's been shut down, right?"
"Yeah," Riddick muttered, looking away. "Fuckheads."
"Parliament said nearly the same thing," the general commented, shaking his head.
"Parliament can fuck itself," Riddick spat, sending him a glare.
"Still the same foul-mouthed asshole, I see," Bradley murmured, flicking open the folder in his hand and leaning against the wall. "I didn't come here to chat, I came here to offer you a deal."
"Is that so?" Riddick asked, mimicking an air of disinterest. He'd heard his share of deals in the past, all of them included another cell and another set of psychiatrists. He highly doubted that Bradley's would be any better, hell, it was probably worse considering who the man worked for.
"The Company is being broken up and Parliament is taking over," the general sighed, snapping the folder shut with a frown. "There's a number of contributing factors, none of which would hold very well in persecuting the Company's Council, save for one empty notch in history: Sigma 3."
"Really?" Riddick asked, tilting his head to the side. "So what? There's a dozen shit heads who could give evidence on it, including yourself."
"Well, that would be true," Bradley allowed, nodding his head. "Excepting the fact that those 'shit heads' were systematically executed within the first five years after the incident. You and I are the only ones left alive, and unfortunately my opinion has been judged to be greatly biased in favor of Parliament."
"You're an asshole," Riddick stated, narrowing his eyes. "So I give my info and you send me back to some six by six cell with a pat on the back and a promise to never see the outside of a dozen barbed wire fences? Don't fucking think so."
"Actually, that's only what would happen if you refused the deal," the general said, sounding amused. He began fishing through his pockets and eventually turned up a package of cigarettes and a lighter. He pulled one out and lit it up before shoving the pack back into his pockets. The smell of smoke began to fill the air, slightly tinted by the particular type of tobacco contained within the burning death stick. "If you do agree to the deal and present what you know, Parliament will sign your bond."
Riddick raised his head and stared at him, the annoyance he'd felt before dissipating at this new information. The possibility that anyone would sign out his bond was something that had never crossed his mind. The absurdity of it was enough to make him laugh.
"And who the fuck would be stupid enough to buy it?" he asked, grinning spitefully.
"KM Industries has already requested it," Bradley responded, taking a drag off his cigarette. "They'll give you seven years, then you're free."
"Seven years?" Riddick echoed in disbelief. Seven years and he'd be free, sentence served? He could almost see the smile on the girl's face. His thoughts froze at that, causing a knot to form in his stomach. He'd been trying not to think about the kid for the past hour, yet she kept popping up in his head. He looked down at the floor, gritting his teeth. "What happened to Jack?"
"Jack?" the general repeated, frown evident in his voice. "You mean the girl?"
"Yes, her," Riddick confirmed, clenching his jaw and bracing himself for the worst. Last he'd seen of the girl she'd been lying unconscious on the pavement. It would be just his luck if he gained his freedom only to have the one person in the universe who actually liked him die. He didn't deny that he'd grown attached, six and a half months of her smiling when he walked into the room were to blame. "What happened to her?"
"A concussion as well as a few scrapes and bruises," Bradley reported. Riddick looked up in time to see the man shrug.
"She's alive?" he asked, fixing him with a glare.
"Yes," the general nodded, frowning. "Why was she with you?"
"Don't really know," Riddick replied with his own shrug. It was only a half lie, he knew why he'd accepted the girl's company, he just wasn't exactly sure why she'd trusted his. "She was in that crash, the Hunter-Gratzner, only one left off of that planet aside from me. There was one more, but he died on the skiff."
"I read the article," Bradley commented with a nod. "So what, you just kept the girl with you?"
Riddick was silent for a moment, contemplating the question. He remembered all too clearly what had happened the day he'd decided to take the kid with him. They'd been picked up by a smuggler ship and she'd gone on pretending to be a boy. It was the safest option considering the circumstances. The night before the ship had docked at the spaceport on Loor, she'd crawled into the bunk with him and asked that he'd let her go with him when they reached planet side.
He could remember the smell of her fear.
He knew that she'd disguised herself as a boy to keep from getting picked up by the sickos that were just waiting to snatch up an unwary child. He knew that she had suffered through both physical and mental abuse in her past, hell, he'd seen her scars. She was fourteen and had already witnessed just how horrifying the universe could be and what some people would stoop to just to stay alive. She knew exactly who and what he was. Yet she'd still she had climbed onto the cot with him, bare and trembling, offering something she knew would hurt her just so she could gain whatever protection he could provide. It sickened him even now to recall that he had been on the verge of accepting.
"She was a run away," Riddick answered with a sigh. "Offered to pay for protection."
He saw Bradley raise an eyebrow and knew what was going on in the man's head. Hell, he'd be thinking the same thing too if he didn't already know the truth of the matter.
"Turned her down, I'm not that fucking sick."
"But you took her along anyways," the general pointed out.
"I'm not a fucking pedophile, Bradley," the con replied, glaring at him. "I took her with me 'cause the alternative was finding out five years from now that she'd ended up dead or worse. I've got enough blood on my hands already."
"She knew who you were?" Bradley asked, his frown deepening.
"She fucking shaved her head to look like me," Riddick informed him with a slight smirk. The thought of it still amused him. "So where is she?"
"Still healing up. After the hospital releases her, she will be sent to stay with Lieutenant Cardde's family," the general responded, flicking open the folder again. "They've got several children already, between the ages of five and seventeen. Two girls, six boys, and enough land to qualify as a small country."
"No foster home?" Riddick asked, frown returning.
"We thought it best not to bring Social Services into this issue," Bradley replied, closing the folder again. "The Cardde's have agreed to adopt her. She'll go to school and have as normal a teenage life as could possibly be allowed."
"Good," Riddick said, nodding. It was more than he could hope for the kid, but it didn't really set his mind at ease. Sure, they could send her to live with an adopted family with promises of a good life, but there was no guarantee that she'd accept it and stay put. It no longer surprised him how protective he'd grown of her, it seemed almost natural in way. He knew with certainty that she wouldn't agree to stay in one place for seven years. He needed a way to make sure that she didn't end up running off again, but the chances of seeing her before she went off with this Cardde family were slim at best. "About this deal of yours, what exactly are the conditions?"
"You must consent to a memory recording of the years you spent on duty at Sigma 3, from the time of your arrival to the time of your first imprisonment," the general informed him, tone grim. "KM Industries will no doubt have a few rules set down for your bond time, though I suppose its obvious that if you commit any crime while under bond the deal becomes void and your bounty will be reinstated."
"A memory recording?" Riddick echoed, ignoring the second part. "You've got to be fucking kidding me!"
"Parliament wants the truth, undistorted by words," Bradley said darkly. "They don't trust you not to twist what you say."
"That makes two of us," Riddick replied with an undertone that managed to be both bitter and sarcastic. He knew damn well that he was skilled in altering the truth without actually lying, sometimes he couldn't tell the difference. His thoughts flicked back once again to Jack. He'd never lied to her that he knew of, hadn't broken a single promise that he'd made to her. Somehow it was important to keep it that way. "Can I talk to her, the girl?"
"Why?" the general asked, apparently surprised. He took another puff off his cigarette.
"She won't stay put otherwise," Riddick informed him with a growl, then grinned. "I'll agree to the deal, Bradley, and then some, if I get to speak with her before she goes."
Frowning, the general flicked the ashes off the end of his smoke, watching idly as they fell to the floor. After a moment he nodded his head and turned towards the door. Without saying another word, he exited the room. Riddick knew he'd be back within the hour.