There had been a change of plans. Lord Vaako volunteered to pilot the shuttle. Seemed to want to talk to him. Seemed to be having trouble getting the words out. Oh well. It'd come.

The Salmatis was strange ship; populated by a community of Necromongers who were considered odd and worryingly fundamentalist even by the priests on the Necropolis. Their vision was pure. While they were exactly and properly worshipful, they set his teeth on edge.

And something smelled wrong.

And something sounded wrong.

It was giving him a headache. And Vaako's anxiety wasn't helping.

After an hour of being shown trivial things by nervous men (there were no women on this ship, part of this group's purist vision that bothered Riddick in a way he could not quite identify), he called a break. Said he needed to consult with his right hand man. Drew Vaako into a little room. Pointedly ordered that their conversation not be monitored or recorded. Then he broke the camera off the wall.

"What's up?"

Vaako stared at him, obvious conflict on his face. "Sire."

"Cut the crap, Vaako. What's up?"

"Probably nothing. I just . . . had a feeling something might go wrong today. That . . . there might be an attempt on your life today."

"Happens all the time. But why do you think today?"

Vaako shrugged, looked at the wires spooling where Riddick had yanked the surveillance camera out of the wall.

His wife. He thinks his wife is in on it. And he thinks we're still being listened to.

Fuck. If she's in on it, she'll go after Jack.

I'm done with this.

With studied nonchalance, he said, "You're just paranoid." He shook his head, slightly.

Vaako barely nodded. They headed directly towards the space dock.

They were almost there when the attack began. No time to do anything but sprint for an escape vessel. The men might think they were cowards, but they'd all be dead soon.

They made it through the blast doors just as the power core exploded. Even with the blast doors closed, the shock of light knocked Riddick down, and everything went black.

Jack was reading, quietly, in their bed. She was still luxuriating in the smell of his body, in the memory of his hands and lips. He might be a monster, but he was her monster.

She heard voices. Assumed Riddick was back already. Odd that he was bringing someone to see her.

But it was not Riddick. Instead it was Commander Toal, surrounded by heavily armed men. In the Lord Marshal's bedroom. This was clearly not good.

Toal himself addressed her. "Ma'am, I have sad news. The Lord Marshal has been killed."

The book slid from her nerveless fingers. "Oh my god."

"A treacherous attack. I'm . . . sorry."

Jack was dimly aware that tears were streaming down her face. He kept talking.

"We've arrested some we believe involved, and we are in pursuit of the fleet that attacked. We will avenge him."

She stared up, uncomprehending.

"But I'm afraid you have to come with us."

She shook her head.

"I'm sorry. But you must be questioned. There are those who think you might be implicated as well."

She started to laugh, hysterically. "Right. I'm going to kill the one person in the universe who cares if I live or die."

Toal smiled at her, tiredly. "True. I believe you are innocent. But we have a way to confirm that. We will take you before the Quasi-Deads."

The questions were perfunctory. They knew she had nothing to do with it. They knew that already. Still left her shaking.

They brought her to a cell; a comfortable cell, but a cell nonetheless. They left her with the book she had been reading and a guard she had never met before, a big blond bruiser of a man with a brutish face whose hungry eyes never left her body. After a few hours, Toal came to see her.

"I'm pleased your innocence has been established."

She nodded with as much dignity as she could muster. "Thank you."

"I will be candid. Now, there are really only two choices for you." His voice was frank, compassionate.

"Death or conversion?"

"Essentially."

"Death."

Toal sighed. His eyes were strangely earnest, hopeful. "We would prefer that you make the other choice. We would like you present at the investiture, standing beside the new Lord Marshal, participating in the ceremony. A symbol of orderly succession."

She stared at him, nearly paralyzed. Why do you care?

Because you don't want people to know you killed Riddick?

Oh, god, did you kill Riddick?

Kyra shook off conversion. At least for a moment . . .

God I miss her.

She stalled. "Lord Vaako's investiture?"

Something flickered across Toal's face. "No. I'm sorry. I should have told you. He was also killed. I am the next Lord Marshal."

Oh, this just gets better. Vaako liked me . . .

Wait, I'm important enough for the next Lord Marshal to be visiting me? They must want something from me . . . "You said you arrested someone for Riddick's mur—for what happened. Who?"

"Pentheselia. Some of her unconverted warriors. We think they sabotaged the shields on the Salmatis so that they would fail as an Illium attack began. They knew he was on that ship. That was the only ship they attacked. They will be executed."

She swallowed, tears falling again. She liked the princess. And with her dead, the last person in the galaxy who might have helped her was gone.

Nothing I can do for her. Nothing I can do for anyone.

No. That was not true. They do want something from me. I can try. One noble gesture before dying. "I'll make you a deal. I'll convert. I'll stand with you. But let Riddick's . . . other pets go. Ziza and her family. And Aereon. Let them go, give them a ship, give them money, and I'll stand beside you and smile."

Toal looked thoughtful. "Agreed."

"I want to see them leave. I want to see them enter hyperspace."

"Agreed."

After many more hours, they brought her to a dock. Toal himself was there. Lajjun was herding her flock of children towards a large ship. Ziza looked like she had been crying. She loved Riddick too, Jack thought. Maybe more than I did. He was always so gentle with her. They let Lajjun approach, but not the children.

The two women stared at each other. They had never really liked each other. Lajjun was always afraid she'd bring some evil upon them. Maybe even blamed her a little for what had happened. Jack had always resented how fucking normal her life had been. But now she was regretting not trying harder to be her friend.

Almost shyly, she pulled the necklace Riddick had given her from her pocket. "Riddick gave this to me. I think it's worth something. For you guys."

Lajjun nodded, respectfully. "Thank you, Jack. And I'm – I'm sorry."

Jack nodded, tears prickling.

Aereon was next. She leaned close, eyes intense. "Do not go gentle into that good night/burn and rage at close of day/ Rage, rage against the dying of the light."

Fresh tears. Jack knew that poem. "Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight/Blind eyes could blaze like meteors--"

"That's enough." Toal interrupted. "Good day, Madam. May we not meet again."

"Good bye, Jack. May the elements keep you."

"They won't," Toal said, sardonically. "She's with us now. Or she will be."

Aereon left in her own ship. She saw each blur into hyperspace. They took her straight to the conversion chambers, fastened her securely with metal bonds to a metal frame, a metal spike in her neck.

There was pain. A great deal of it.

Sometimes, instead trapped in a ship of steel and glass, she felt like she was hanging from a tree in a forest. Maybe she was dreaming, though it did not feel like sleep. Instead of hours, she felt like she had been tied there for days, weeks, months. And everything hurt. Even though she was exhausted, sleep would not come.

But after what felt like days, she did. She dreamed. She dreamed the snake was back, the snake that had been Riddick, winding her in coils thicker than her own body, putting even more weight onto the bonds that cut deeply into her skin. Then it dwindled until it was only the thickness of her wrist. She was grateful, until it bit her on the breast, on the side, on the heel, before slipping away, leaving her delirious in pain. She could hear it down there, slithering. Merciful blackness took her again.

She dreamed she was floating on the waves when the monsters finally broke the surface of the waters. She dreamed one swallowed her whole, and she was drowning, screaming, in the indifferent darkness.

She dreamed she was eating living men and women, herself indifferent to their screams.

And she woke, really woke, to a sunrise dappling through leaves. The glass and steel of the ship were completely gone. There was a glade, and grass and sky, and she was tied to the rough bark of a tree with ropes.

Someone was cutting her down. "Took you long enough," Kyra said, sardonically.