Title: "Prologue: Entrance"
Author: Lane
Word count: 6,970
Rating: R. Violence, Language, Sexuality
Summary: Set sometime before tCoR, the time will reveal itself later. An introduction to our world, a memory and a dire situation. Maddox Kincaide, Benu and Riddick.

Darkness.

A blackness so thick and so overwhelming that for a moment Maddox thought she was drowning in it. It was as though the air had become a liquid that had settled in her lungs and smothered her. She felt drugged, heavy and disoriented.

Had it truly been so long since she had traveled in cryo-sleep that she had completely forgotten what it felt like? Sure, it had been years since she had been in deep space on a starship, but this...this was not like anything she could recall. Maybe they're using a new serum, part of her brain said as it lolled back in her head. Or maybe they're drugging you instead of letting you free, said the other part of her consciousness before it was silenced by confusion.

She felt so tired. Like she could just sleep forever. Like she had worked a full day for the corps and needed a good night's rest. Like she had spent a week in the hole and couldn't remember when it was day and when it was night. Like she had spent an hour with the guards and wanted to forget what it was like to feel anything at all. So damn tired...

Wake up! A voice inside her head practically screamed as she started to drift back off again. Whether it was her animal instincts or some primal need to survive, Maddox couldn't be sure, but whatever it was her eyes slowly fluttered open and began to try and focus.

Somewhere nearby a woman was weeping. What a sound that was, so alien and out of place. I wonder if today's Tuesday, she thought as she listened to the sound, savoring the delicate rise and fall of the feminine crying. Tuesday was always they day that they brought new inmates into the slam, tossing them into general population for an hour or two to get their cherries busted. Most of the time the convicts were already hardened criminals, men or women who were seasoned veterans of the penal system, stone cold killers, thieves and liars, the galaxy's finest. But sometimes the new man or woman on the block was a virgin to the slam and broke down within those first few hours. Sometimes they cried or screamed or begged for mercy as they were bullied, beaten or worse. But more often than not they just took the first day in silent stride, accepting the hand that fate had dealt them. The ones who wept rarely lasted past the first month unless one of the "governors" claimed them for his or her own. Prison made you strong or it killed you; there was simply no room for weakness.

It's not Tuesday, the voice said again. And you're not on Tangiers anymore. You're free. Get up. Move. Go!

That was when it clicked. She had been released. "Early parole for outstanding behavior," the warden had announced to her as he led her out of the slam towards the skiff. Two other inmates were being led out as well; they were being given a one way ticket anywhere in the galaxy they wanted. The prison skiff would meet up with a larger transport vessel just outside the planet's orbit and then they would officially be free. Master of her own destiny. A free woman, not just a number. It was refreshing and too good to be true; Maddox didn't believe it for one minute.

So when she finally opened her eyes and found chains around her wrists and feet she was hardly surprised. "Mutherfuckers," she muttered under her breath as she looked around and saw a hold full of men and women similarly bound, many of them in the process of waking up from cryo-sleep. Further down the line someone sounded sick; then there came the rancid smell of vomit.

"Must be a bad dose of serum," Maddox mumbled to no one in particular.

"They put drugs in the serum," a woman's eloquent voice said right next to her. The former convict turned and looked at the speaker. She was not expecting to see a beautiful young woman with long black hair, delicate features and exotic almond shaped eyes. If they were on a ship bound for another slam then this was the strangest group of prisoners she'd ever seen before in her life.

"Where they taking us?" Maddox asked the woman, slowly becoming more cognizant of her surroundings.

"I am uncertain," she replied, glancing around as well at the others around them. "But I believe it may be Taurus 3." Maddox's brow furrowed in confusion. There was no penal colony on Taurus 3 at all. "They are slavers," the woman said, answering the question that Maddox had yet to ask. "We are being taken to market."

The realization of the woman's words caught her off-guard and confusion set in once again. When had her ship been hijacked? How long had they been in cryo-sleep? Why in god's name would slavers pick up a marked prison ship carrying convicts?

"How do you know all this?" She asked of the dark woman suddenly, suspicion kicking into overdrive. "If we've all been in cryo, how is it that you know what's going on?"

A hint of pain and other, darker emotions passed through the beautiful woman's eyes briefly before disappearing. "They've kept some of us awake," she answered quietly. "For other purposes."

The unspoken meaning of her words hung heavily in the air and Maddox nodded. Lovely as the exotic woman was there would be little doubt that the slavers would take advantage of her. Rape was not an uncommon occurrence in the slam, but picturing this soft, beautiful creature falling victim to the coarse desires of a slaver made even the ex-inmate uncomfortable. She may have been hardened by years in the system, but some things could still trigger an emotional response other than pure survival.

"Benu," the woman next to her said after a moment of silence, leaning in as much as the chains would allow. "I am Benu."

"Maddox Kincaide," she replied with a slight nod. Pleasant as all this small talk was, she was a bit distracted by trying to figure out the locking mechanism for her cuffs.

"The slavers said that you're from a prison vessel," Benu said, her voice remaining soft, just barely above a whisper. "They say that you're coming from the Tangiers Penal Colony."

"That's right," Maddox said. Her brow furrowed as she moved her hand around at an odd angle, trying to get a better grip at the weak link that she felt on her chains. If unlocking them wasn't an option, maybe breaking them was.

"Why were you in the slam?" Benu asked, looking at the redhead next to her in a slightly different light.

"Well," Maddox grumbled as she shifted her hands up to the top of the metal loop where large bolts kept the u-shaped bar bound to the ceiling above. "It's complicated." She pressed the weak link against one of those bolts, trying several times before she finally caught the slight crack on the edge of the hardware.

Benu chuckled mirthlessly and watched the woman next to her strangely. "I don't think we're going anywhere for a while," she replied. "Despite your attempts to the contrary."

Maddox sighed and glanced over at the dark beauty, not the least bit amused at her pronouncement. "Look, lady," she said dryly. "You get sold into slavery and some rich old man is going to buy you for arm candy. Me? Not so much." She pulled the weak spot against the bolt edge, feeling it begin to give way a bit more accompanied by a barely audible creaking. "Now, you might be looking forward to spending the rest of your natural life as the pampered concubine of some outworld plantation owner, but I could deal without hard labor or pit fighting until I die."

"You never answered my question," Benu pressed, her eyes flitting back and forth between Maddox's face and her chains. "Why were you in the slam?"

For a moment the redhead fell silent, simply concentrating on the task of breaking her bindings. She could feel her wrists growing damp with the effort and she realized that she wasn't sure if the dampness was from blood or sweat. "Well, if you believe the hype, I was in the slam for killing a man," Maddox grunted, pressing hard on the bolt until at last she could feel the link in the chain crack and start to pull open. One last good yank and she heard it creak again. It had been pried apart. Quickly she grabbed a hold of the chains on either side of the link and pulled them loose, pocketing the single weak metal link. She lowered her arms and rubbed gingerly at her broad shoulders, sore from being raised so long. A small bit of blood trickled down her forearms from beneath the cuffs on her wrists and Benu looked at her in shock as she stepped out of line with all the other captives. "So when they ask you who your cellmate was you can tell them you slept next to a killer, sweetheart," she said with a smirk and a flippant salute.

"Wait!" Benu called out behind her desperately. A few people turned groggily to look at the tall redhead who was running down the corridor, but most were still heavily drugged or sleeping. Not that Maddox cared too much; all she had to do was find a place in the ship to hide until they hit the surface and then she'd be gone. The slavers probably wouldn't even check on their cargo until after they'd been planetside for an hour or two anyway. After all, they had to make sure that the market was ripe and, if not, then those unlucky souls would just be put back into cryo and taken to another world.

She came to the end of the corridor and placed her ear against the door, listening for any sound or movement. All was silent on the other side and she slowly slid the bay door open, looking around her. Hallways led to the left and the right; she took the left, shut the door behind her and began to move quickly and quietly down the metal corridors.

It had been a long time since she'd been asked that question and she mulled over it as she crept along with her back up against the wall. In the slam everyone knew what crimes another prisoner had been convicted of, the prison gossips were worse than a bunch of little old ladies in that sense. For three years it had been an understood fact: she was "Mad" Maddox Kincaide, a former member of Sigma 3's elite Strikeforce who had been thrown in the slam for killing one of her fellow squad mates. Rumor around the block was that she had gone crazy during the Wailing Wars and ended up disemboweling another officer. Others spoke of the fact that she was from a tribe of canibals on a small backwater planet and that she had actually eaten her victim. Whatever the case was, after her first month people tended to leave her alone. Her quiet countenance and killer's reputation combined with her unusual looks – long red dreadlocks, a sleek muscular build and large tattoo that snaked its way across her broad shoulders – tended to keep people from wanting to ask too many questions anyway. Besides, everyone had something to hide in the slam; they wouldn't be in lockdown if they didn't.

However, the truth of the matter was far less interesting than the myth. Maddox's stint in the penal system was a punishment alright, but not for killing anyone. Her only mistake had been trying to save the life of an old friend. But, given the state of the galaxy these days, compassion might as well have been a death sentence.

Rounding the corner, the escapee finally found what she was looking for. The panel in the floor of the corridor was barely three feet square but the markings painted on its corner clearly labeled it as an electrical passage. Given the size of the vessel they were in, the passage would be just wide enough for an engineer to move through but small enough that it wouldn't take up excess space on the already cramped ship. Maddox could hide here until they were planetside and, once the slavers were off ship, she could make a run for it.

Disuse had made the hinges on the panel rusty and hard to pry open, but Maddox was strong. After a moment's struggle she hefted the door up and slid down into the ill-lit shaft that was lined on both sides with hundreds of different colored wires. Pulling the panel carefully shut behind her the ex-convict moved as far down the narrow passage as she could. Safe at last, she sank down to the ground and leaned back against the cool metal grating that made up the floor. Her green eyes closed as exhaustion finally took over and she realized that the drugs from cryo were probably still flowing through her system. Better sleep now while you can, the voice in the back of her head said. There'll be no rest for the wicked later.

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Night on Aquila Major was full of activity. Heraklion, the capital city of the metropolitan world, was full of hustling as people left their homes and jobs seeking out pleasure in restaurants, shops, clubs and other areas of amusement. From the well lit, chrome drenched streets of North City to the dangerous areas of the slums Heraklion seemed to come alive with throngs of humanity, vehicles and the noise that accompanied them.

For the exhausted Lieutenant, however, the only thing she had lined up for this Friday evening was a long, hot shower and a full night's rest.

Maddox kicked the door to the apartment closed behind her and set her bag down on the table in her tiny kitchen. She had not even had the opportunity to change out of her uniform yet, having only recently arrived planetside again. Her leave of absence was only for a week and, while there were certainly things she wanted to get done back here in the city, it could all wait until she was clean and looking like a civilian.

As she passed by the mirror in the bedroom she paused briefly to look at the image that greeted her. Her long red dreadlocks were pulled back and braided neatly into a single plait that hung to the small of her back, which was the only way the Company had agreed to let her keep her tribal-style hair. Her dark grey uniform was cut in the military style, broadening her shoulders while drawing the eye away from the curves of her hips and chest. She wore no jewelry and no makeup, shoes polished to a high shine and the black military cap that was so distinctive to the Strikeforce team. For months now it had been her primary outfit outside of her working camos. By the gods, she thought as she pulled off her jacket and cap tossing them onto the bed, I need to find another job.

It had been so long since she was home that it had taken her a minute to get the hot water running in the shower. But once the steam started to fog up the mirror over the vanity she could feel the tense muscles in her shoulders and legs relaxing. The grime that came from travel washed away much easier than the blood she often returned from the field sporting and after just a few short moments Maddox found that she was already clean from head to toe. Long showers were a luxury she had become unaccustomed to and she almost felt guilty as she stood under the hot liquid, letting it cascade down her form. After all, the last time she had lingered so long in this shower she hadn't been alone and that had been almost two years ago.

That thought had come unbidden and she immediately regretted it. The flood of memories washed over her like a wave, remembrances of dark hands moving over her skin slick with soap, feverish kisses that left her gasping for air and the cool tile against her back while a warm weight pressed against her front. Her insides tightened instinctively and she closed her eyes, fighting off the mixed emotions that followed the memory. Pushing her hand against the wall she leaned down and turned the hot water off, letting the suddenly cold liquid shock her into the present. Maybe a shower wasn't the best idea. He was gone, out of her life forever. Sent off to a slam where he'd never see the light of day again. If she were smart she'd just forget about him and move on.

Stepping out into the cool air of the bathroom Maddox grabbed for a towel and began to quickly dry off. She rang out her dreads over the sink so that they were no longer soaking wet and separated them with her fingers. She rubbed her hand over the fogged up bathroom mirror and looked at herself, finally clean with her hair let down. For the first time in ages she actually felt like a human being again.

"Maybe I ought to go out tonight," she considered aloud as she pulled on clean underwear and a tank top, letting her locks hang long behind her. "Get a couple of drinks, talk with someone about something other than company policy," she mumbled to herself, walking out of the bathroom and into the bedroom. "Who knows, kid, you just might get..." Maddox stopped mid-sentence as the cool breeze from the open window hit her damp skin. She looked immediately to the window with its view of the brick wall right across the alley and then whipped around to stare directly into another wall: the broad chest of a figure dressed head to toe in black. "Lucky," she whispered, finishing her thought as her eyes trailed all the way up the chest, neck and face of the man standing directly before her.

At well over six feet tall with broad shoulders and a naturally muscular build there was no mistaking the man in front of her for anyone else. Dressed in black cargo pants, a black tank top and military issue boots he looked almost exactly the same as he had the last time she'd seen him. His skin was still dark, his head shaved almost bald and a self assured, feral smirk played on his lips. Only the sleek black goggles obscuring his eyes from view were different. It was like being in the presence of a memory that had suddenly come to life.

"Well, well, well," the man spoke in a familiar gravelly voice. "What do we have here, hm?" He took a step closer so that their bodies were nearly touching, towering over the woman before him by several inches. "Looks like someone's come home from the corps," he said and walked around her slowly, looking her over from head to toe, lifting up one of her still wet dreadlocks. Behind her he stopped and leaned forward, inhaling deeply of her scent, just inches away from burying his face into the back of her hair. Instead he pushed those locks aside, freeing up her neck, shoulder and face to his view. Maddox was sure that he could see her pulse racing in her neck where her heart was beating so hard. "Fresh out of the shower and looking to get lucky tonight, huh, Kincaide?" He leaned down as he spoke, his breath warm against her ear.

Maddox thought she was going to pass out. She couldn't move. She was frozen still by fear and disbelief. Her hands, limp at her sides, were suddenly damp with sweat and shaking very slightly.

"Riddick," she whispered, almost exhaling his name.

"That's right, sunshine," he murmured back. "Daddy's home." His arm wrapped around the front of her body and she finally felt him touch her, savoring the strong grip of his hand as he seized a hold of her jaw and throat, tilting her head further to the side. His other hand gripped onto the edge of her hip, pulling her back on the hard planes of his form so that she was pinned up against him. She heard him growl as his lips and nose grazed slowly along the open curve of her neck. His grip on her jaw tightened as he pulled her head further to the side. "You know, I've dreamed of this smell," he said against her skin. "Flesh, soap, a little bit of sweat." She felt the slight pressure of teeth sliding over the crook of her neck while his grip on her grew even stronger. "I could tear you apart, Kincaide..."

She let out a little gasp and swallowed thickly. The hand that had gripped her hip roamed slowly elsewhere, sliding over the flat, muscled expanse of her stomach and then beyond. Maddox was having trouble breathing. She just couldn't say whether that was because of his hold on her jaw or because of his hand moving over the rest of her body. Whoa, her brain said suddenly, spurring itself into reason.

"They sent you to the slam," she said, her voice coming out meeker than she had intended it to. He didn't seem to pay much mind to that though. By the heat that was radiating from behind her and the way his mouth and hand continued to rape her senses, she was fairly certain he wasn't paying much attention to anything she said. "You're supposed to be in Ursa Lu-," her voice caught in her throat as his hand slid lower beneath the hem of her underclothes. Rational thought was becoming increasingly difficult. Then again, so was standing.

"That's it," he whispered directly into her ear. "Just lean back, sunshine." For a moment Maddox gave in to the deep voice rumbling right next to her and the warm hands that were in the process of playing her nerve endings like a harp. She reached up behind her with trembling hands, feeling the slight stubble that covered his shaved head and the odd goggles that he wore. This is real, part of her realized as she felt him on her own, this is no dream. He's here. He's just not supposed to be here.

"Wait," she begged at last, trying to pull away from him despite her body's protests. But, strong as she was, Richard was far stronger and seemed to have no intention of letting her go anywhere. "Riddick," she breathed the word even as his fingers remained wrapped around her throat. His other hand continued to work as a distraction beneath her clothes, trying to steal her thoughts away. Maddox gritted her teeth and remained calm, however, staying focused on the questions she had to ask. "You're not supposed to be here. They put you in the slam. What in the holy hell are you doing here?"

She felt his fingers pause momentarily although the grip on her jaw didn't relax in the least. In fact it tightened to the point where she was certain she would bruise from it. "I'm trying to fuck my girl who I haven't seen in almost two years," he growled into her ear, a strange hint of anger or possibly annoyance finding its way into his otherwise rich voice. "But she's too goddamn busy asking me questions to let me do what I want to her." Her eyes rolled back as his fingers slid between her thighs and began to truly drive her to distraction. Quietly she whimpered and writhed back against him, giving up on any further attempt at speech. "I tell you what, Kincaide," he whispered, never pausing in his ministrations. "You give me tonight, let me do whatever I want to you and we'll talk in the morning." Maddox just nodded and then gasped. She felt his chest rumble behind her as he chuckled softly. "That's my girl," he murmured before proceeding to drive her truly insane.

When he had pulled his goggles off to reveal eyes silvered over like mercury Maddox had professed a good bit of curiosity. She had memories of dark brown irises; seeing these mirrored ones now caught her off guard. Between removing clothes and pushing her down on the mattress he managed to explain the need for survival in a place where there truly was no sunlight. "It's called a shine job," he said as he pulled her tank top off and tossed it aside. "Lets me see things in the dark no one else can see." He slipped his hands under the waistband of her panties and slowly slid them down her legs. One hand came to rest on her strong thigh as she lay back before him. "So why don't you turn off the lights and let me look at you, Maddox."

She licked her lips and nodded. "Lights off," she called out and the room plunged into darkness. Once more she heard that quiet chuckle of his and felt his body closer to her own.

"My, my, my," he murmured, beginning to run his hands all over her form.

Maddox stared up at him, green eyes slowly growing used to the darkness. "You know, I've dreamed of this so many times," she said, sliding her own hands up across his chest and shoulders. "Part of me thinks I'm dreaming still."

"I'm no dream," he replied, pressing open her thighs with his knee and lowering his weight over her. He ran his fingers through her red locks as her touch continued down his neck and back. It was as if she was mapping his body with her hands, trying to memorize the feeling of each centimeter of his flesh. "This," he whispered as he pressed his mouth to hers. "Is real."

Earlier that day, all Maddox had been able to think about was sleep. For the rest of the night it was the farthest thing from her mind.

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"Handshaking procedure commenced, stand by for docking approval," a loud woman's voice said over the intercom. Maddox started awake and jumped to her feet, crouching down in the narrow confines of the electrical corridor. Looking around she was greeted with only darkness and the neon blue glow of rope lights running in sync with the rows of different wires. She sat back slowly in relief as the ship's computerized voice repeated its warning. They were drawing close to the atmosphere she realized as she sank back down to the grating.

Must have dozed off, she thought as she ran her hand up to the side of her neck vividly remembering her dream. All these years and she still dreamt about him at night. It was depressing really; Maddox would bet her dreads that he didn't spend his sleep schedule reliving the good old days. Last she'd heard he had escaped from Butcher Bay and was on the run again. It was amazing that no one had ghosted that son of a bitch yet. But then again, he always had been lucky and their years of training with the Strikeforce probably didn't hurt things either. One of these days the Company would learn to either kill its rogue agents or leave them the hell alone.

The sound of heavy footfalls on the floor up above her pulled Maddox back to the here and now. She had to figure a way out of here as soon as the ship had docked. If she was planning on slipping past the bay crew on Taurus 3 she'd have to move fast and smart. There would be no room for error.

"Handshake accepted," the mechanized woman's voice said over the intercom once more. "Approval for docking granted. Please prepare for atmospheric reentry."

I hate flying, Maddox thought as she listened out and heard nothing but silence. This would be her best opportunity to move freely in the belly of this beast. The slavers would be locked into their seats for a good five minutes while they passed through the turbulent atmospheric pressure fronts before reaching good air below. If she could find a proper exit before they were able to unbuckle then she might be able to hit the ground running as soon as they docked. As soon as the ship began to tremble slightly she scrambled up the electrical hatch, pushed open the panel and launched herself up into the corridor. The long hallway was empty as a tomb. Maddox wasted no time in closing the panel before she began the run to the opposite end of the ship.

Heavy boots that had seen years of wear thumped steadily along the metal floor grating as she made her way towards the stern of the vessel, keeping her ears and eyes sharp for any hint of movement. The vestiges of the drugs in her system made her stomach churn but Maddox ignored the sickly feeling, concentrating instead on remembering the turns she took down the different corridors. The ship they were on must be massive; she figured that it was probably a converted cargo model whose hold had been turned into numerous compartments to hold a different type of "cargo." She hated slavers. Let people rant about pushers or mercs or Company men all they wanted – there was no scum in the galaxy as low as slave runners.

At last she rounded a corner just as they hit a severe bout of turbulence so rough that it almost threw her off her feet. She grabbed a hold of a bar on the side of the wall as the ship vibrated hard and then rocked from side to side as though it was threatening to fishtail. The sickness in her stomach threatened again and she fought it back; a couple of years ago this would have been considered tame compared to the drop-ins they would have pulled in the Strikeforce. Pure freefall for almost a minute in a huge steel vessel was like a drug for some of the adrenaline junkies she had worked with. They always knew they had a good recruit on their hands when he could actually enjoy the drop instead of forcing everyone to look at what he had for lunch.

At last the shaking stopped and Maddox straightened herself, taking a good look at her surroundings. The bar she had caught a hold of was not just a bar, it was a rung on a ladder that looked to head up through the hull. "Hot damn," she muttered and smirked, grabbing the rung and beginning to climb up the narrow opening. Sure enough, at the end of the duct there was a small round access door that probably opened onto the top of the ship for maintenance access. She braced herself against the claustrophobia inspiring passage with her back against one wall and her boots against the other. If she could just stay here until they docked then everything would be okay.

For a few minutes there was continued turbulence that came and went until finally she felt the ship begin to slow some. "Please prepare for docking," the woman's voice said over the speakers and then Maddox felt a heavy jolt rock the ship as the landing gear hit the ground. "Artificial gravity disengaged," the voice said and Maddox suddenly felt lighter as the natural weight of a planet's pull replaced the ship's system. She took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. Soon she would be free.

Below she could hear the sound of voices and heavy footsteps coming closer, heading towards the rear hatch. She prayed to whatever gods would listen for the crew to hurry up and leave. Although she was stalwart and could probably stay like this for a good hour or so, she did not want to risk the possibility that someone might just look up. Closing her eyes she slowed her breathing and concentrated on her heart, listening to the constant beat of the blood through her veins. She felt the metal walls against her back through the thin fabric of her shirt and the bolts holding the panels together. She thought about the prayers she had been taught growing up in the monastery on Altair and the about the way it would feel to be clean again. She thought of everything she could to keep her mind off of the danger of the situation she was in.

When she came up from this meditative state for air everything was silent. She strained to listen to hear voices or footsteps, any sign that there might be someone coming, but all that met her was the hum of the ship's electronics. Exhaling slowly she lifted her eyes up and murmured another prayer. This time it was one of thanks.

The small hatch door squeaked slightly in protest at being opened, but Maddox put her shoulder against the door and shoved with all her might until it let loose. A rush of heat and the smell of exhaust washed over her face as she climbed up through the portal. The bay they had docked in was a mammoth structure full of other cargo ships as large as theirs and larger. People moved everywhere bringing equipment, boxes, frozen containers and state-of-the-art cryo sleeping chambers to the different ships. She breathed a sigh of relief. Slipping out in this crowd would be a piece of cake.

Carefully Maddox stood and walked towards the side of the ship. It was a standard Aquilian model cargo transport, just as she thought, and was not so high off the ground that she couldn't slide off the starboard side. She crept carefully until she began to slide and then slipped to the ground, landing in a crouch. A few people glanced in her direction curiously, whispering among themselves about the strange woman emerging from the ship but she just looked in their direction and offered a nod to put them at ease. Act like you belong here, Kincaide, she thought as she brushed off her pants and walked towards the entrance of the hangar where people were moving in and out. She slid her hands into her pockets and set her shoulders back, holding her chin up a little bit. She could feel the air coming in from outside on her face and slowly smiled. The air was cool and beyond it she could see the green of plants growing around the exterior of a nearby structure. It had been so long since she had seen anything green that she found herself wondering what type of plant it was. Maybe she would plant a garden once she had found someplace to settle down; a garden. Yeah. That sounded real nice.

As she stepped over the threshold of the building she looked around and took a deep breath of air. Freedom, she thought. This is freedom.

She brushed past a group of men walking towards the hangar and nodded to them as well. They met her eyes and looked her over curiously, taking in her red hair and the way she walked. They paused to look her over and then went on to talk among themselves, commenting on the woman who had just passed. Smirking, she continued to walk, enjoying the idea of the attention. It had been a long time since she'd caught a man's attention and not been concerned about where his intentions might lie. She found the feeling both odd and refreshing, a welcome change from the last few years of her life. It looked like it would be a beautiful day.

When Maddox heard a man's voice shout after her, ordering her to freeze she let out a little inward sigh. Too good to be true, the rational, cynical side of her said as she glanced over her shoulder to see the group of men she had just passed running towards her. This time people were staring for a far different reason.

She was surprised at the rush of anger that rolled through her system as she turned towards the East and began to haul ass out of the area. Behind her she could hear shouting and gasps of surprise as her pursuers pushed people out of their way. Logic and thought gave way to survival and Maddox let her instincts take over. The port was on the edge of town in one of the newer districts; even though she had been to Messina on leave years ago, she was certain that the streets had changed a good deal since then. The planet was prospering and construction was up. Good news for the economy, bad news for her escape route.

Maddox's long red locks whipped out behind her as she ran, dodging past pedestrians, small vehicles and other obstacles. Up ahead she could see one of the city's markets and she made a break for the colorful tents and narrow alleys that would inevitably be filled with throngs of people. If she could keep her head down and blend in with the crowd then maybe she could lose them.

The natives of Taurus 3 were clearly from far more exotic stock than Maddox's ancestors as everywhere she looked she was met with men and women with dark complexions and features. No one would possibly mistake her for a local. She even had to crouch down to hide among the crowds of shorter people. Behind her she could still hear the slavers bearing down, pushing shoppers out of the way and shoving through the crowd after her. To the right she caught sight of an alleyway and turned down it swiftly, beginning to sprint once again.

"There she is!" One of the men yelled. She didn't pause to look behind her but instead concentrated on the wall directly in front of her. It had been years since she had done this but even though her mind was uncertain her body was confident she could make it.

Without even slowing down Maddox changed her path towards the wall on the left, jumped, placed one foot firmly against that wall and bounded off of it with enough momentum to force her into the air high enough to grab the top of the wall. She grunted as she pulled herself up and over the brick retainer, dropping onto the ground on the other side. Even though she heard cursing on the other side of the wall and knew that it would take the men a few moments to get over that same barrier she never slowed down, just kept on running. The alleyway turned to the right and she slid around it, hitting the ground still moving and heading back into the heart of the busy city.

What she didn't see was the man on the right side of the buildings who slammed the butt of a makeshift pike into her side.

Maddox snarled in pain and went down, falling onto the ground. Pain radiated out from her kidneys, jerking through her body as she stumbled over. She tried to push through it and roll out of the fall but the others had caught up and she heard them shouting behind her. The man who had hit her grinned down and reached to grab for a handful of her hair. Fast as lightening Maddox caught hold of his wrist and shoved his forearm upward with a sickening "crack" before burying her elbow into his jaw so hard that his teeth broke. The man's screams seemed to only egg her on and, as he fell to his knees on the ground, she used his body to push herself up. By the time the first one of the others began to reach her she was no longer running from them, she was running towards them, holding onto the long metal pole her first attacker had used as though it was a battering ram.

She roared in fury and slammed the sharpened edge of the long pole straight through the stomach of the first man until it came through the other side of his body with a wet, sucking sound. Immediately she dropped to one knee and pressed the pike against the ground as though she were bracing for an oncoming horde. The man who she impaled began to scream, the sounds of his terror and pain mingling with the voice of the first slaver she had injured. People from around the city were also screaming and fleeing in terror. Maddox thought it sounded wonderful.

She lunged for a third man, thoughtless of the man sliding slowly down the metal pole. The group of slavers was certainly caught off guard by this barbaric act and by the time they had come to their senses she was on top of her third victim, bloodying her fists on his face. The remaining two men went to pull her off but they were not quick enough to keep her from leaning down and biting deep into the man's cheek. When they finally grabbed a hold of her arms and hair and wrenched her away, she pulled flesh with her in her teeth leaving a spray of blood across her face, her victim and the dusty ground below them. The fresh dark blood ran down her chin and neck as city guards approached from the market. Kicking, snarling and continuing to fight, she was almost oblivious to the pain of the hypodermic needle that was shoved into her neck. Suddenly she grew dizzy and incredibly tired. She spit the hunk of muscle and skin out of her mouth at the guards in contempt, watching as the man she spat at reviled in horror. The last thing she saw was a heavy fist coming down across her face.

Way to make an entrance, Maddox, her inner voice muttered before she was swept away into oblivion.