A/N:
Thank you to all my readers, reviewers ck16 and My Reflection, and
harryetty who has added this to Harryetty's
Favs c2.
Everyone
in Pitch Black had secrets. What was Paris's secret? His alcohol
stash? I think not – lets give the man a real secret shall we?
Besides he was meant to die anyhow. And
Johns? Is he really changing or is he blowin' smoke? Which would you all prefer? It's still up in the air but someone is going to make a hard choice so others can live before this is over.
This
chapter wrote itself rather quickly, but the images that it was
inspired by are not cuddly ones. For the longest time all I could
see was the color of bright copper in association with the individual
that dies here (Yep, someone does die, and you should have seen it
coming). Originally it was gonna be Johns, but the man isn't totally without good qualities (Meaning he'd kill the kid but he wouldn't make a mess out of one first). Honestly it wasn't until I wrote the chapter before this
that this one snapped into place. Remember, this is why you don't
want to piss the Doctor off ('specially this regeneration). Talk
about closing up the drawstrings on an open bag…
It's 2517. Something in the past has prompted humanity to explode out from their home world. Could the events of 2164 be responsible? Was Earth a myth or was it real? In fleeing Earth-that-Was, humanity scattered to the stars across the galactic arm. Initial survey teams targeted likely planets and systems for habitation and not all of them ended up on the same side of the sector. Blue Sun exists on one side, separated by a patch of 'wild space' filled with exotic binary and triple star systems, from the rest of civilized space. Few ships brave the route. But luck has it that one ship is. It's a ghost run, the only contact that the two sides have. Port of Departure: Eavesdown Docks, Persephone. Mixed Sino-Anglo culture. Port of Call: Tangiers-5. Darkside. Mixed Islamic-Anglo culture. Crew complement: Four. Passengers: Forty. Living 'Cargo': Two.
So what happens when a passenger by the name of Dr. Simon Tam and his cargo get on the wrong ship? And just how is this related to the TimeWar?
Doctor Who / Firefly / Riddick X-over.
Features Doctor 9, Pre-"Rose"; Simon and River Tam, Pre-"Serenity" Firefly episode 1 and the cast of Pitch Black…
Doctor Who and the Great Eclipse
Part Thirty-One
Arrears
He'd been very careful to not act guilty, to not act scared… But he could feel that the others were catching on to what had happened, and truthfully he'd only wanted to make sure the boy would pay attention and not go doing something stupid. That there'd been blood involved hadn't occurred to him as a problem at the time. He was having difficulty not reaching out to calm the boy. Or more precisely, strangle him for casting suspicion his direction.
They had started moving again. Something about the individuals in the front had made him want to be in the back. Jack had offered to let Ali carry the backpack, and the other boy had agreed. So now, Jack wore Hassan's old glowing sweater and was walking next to Imam by River. Almost like the shit was avoiding him.
Suleiman and Simon both seemed calm enough, with the doctor paying far more attention to his scanner, tuned to show the life-signs of the natives, than was totally necessary. Carolyn and William were strung tight, carrying guns, which he disliked but had a feeling that were less threatening to him personally then the knives of those in the front of the group. When he'd approached Riddick and the Doctor he'd gotten one of those icy sensations that left no doubt as to the trouble he'd be in if he stayed too close to them. Riddick had figured it out. The Doctor might have already known.
And then he'd looked at River. That had been a mistake. The expression on her face had morphed into one like judgement being served upon his soul, like she'd reached in and read his memories and found the truth of everything he'd ever done. But he had planned on adopting the boy, raising him as his own if they survived. He could provide him with an education and -- But who was he kidding? The child had never liked him, something that wouldn't change no matter how he was treated. He supposed it didn't matter that the boy had begged for it, wanted it…
0o0o0o0o0o0o0
Jack held a spear in one hand and a light in the other. He kept the light moving off to the side, away from Richard's field of view. The backtracking hadn't taken long, now they were following passages that seemed to curve around the location of the Doctor's ship. They reached a junction. The Key in the Doctor's hand pulled right. Riddick tilted his head like he was listening. Voice low and pitched so that it didn't carry far the large bronze skinned man says, "Sounds open. Can hear them clicking. Might have backed into the passage because of the ice. Wanna go this way?"
The green-eyed boy watched the Doctor close his eyes like he's consulting with something elsewhere. Then again the pale man was odd. Cold like snow, but always thinking of helping others. Jack had almost gone to him for relief, thinking he'd 'get' it, and actually assist him, but then it hadn't happened that way.
Behind him River says, "Talking with her." And, of course, Jack finds himself thinking, who? The words that come from behind give the impression that he's actually carrying a conversation with the dark-eyed girl, "The golden Lady." He looks back and up at River with a confused look. "His ship," she says as if it is the most normal thing in the 'Verse. He blinks at her and she smiles sweetly. One thing for sure, River is broke. Strange girl. But he does like her; she's got a wicked sense of humor most times. He can't help but to smile back at her when she grins like that.
Then his eyes catch him watching. Try as he might he can't keep up the smile, which turns into a contorted parody. The change makes River step into his view, blocking his sight of the other man. He feels her arms around his shoulders and knows she's trying to protect him from his own memories. She's sweet smelling but clean, like honeydew. But unlike other girls she is not soft. Her arms are toned like steel cable, and her torso is muscled with planes of something very strong. She doesn't look muscle bound, but like Riddick, she has full command of a well-trained body. Yes, she's a girl, but she's not a normal girl. Even relaxed, her thin, graceful, hands are powerful and slightly cool against his arm. Everything about her looks delicate, but he bets she could kick ass without working up a sweat. Jack sighs at the feeling of safety she gives him. Much like her brother did, the embrace is all comfort, seeking to give without taking. He has to blink away the tears that threaten to start flowing again.
"I think we should at least block this passage, or we'll have hungry natives behind us. Only we can't because the entire area is ready to crumble," came the Doctor's voice.
"Is that why the ship isn't coming to your telepathic call?" the priest asks.
"No. She's just being stubborn."
From behind them comes a sound, a voice, that makes Jack cringe, and he's glad River is still holding him, "You make it sound as if this ship of yours is alive."
"Because she is, Mr. Olgivie," There's enough frost in that response to chill the air more than a few degrees, as the Doctor fixes the man with a piercing stare that broadcasts, I don't like you. It's the most hostile the hairless fellow has been toward any of them, Johns aside right after his huge flub with the skiff. The temptation is to step away from the pair before something horrible catches the rest of them in the crossfire.
"Can we deal with this later?" Fry says. Bloodshed with the predators in hearing distance was not at the top of the wise mountain at the moment. The Time Lord gazes at her with an as you wish look that she nods to.
"There's a connecting passage that continues around about a dozen meters to the left. The next one that leads toward the sinkhole is blocked by ice, but there are no predators and no chasms directly beyond it. We still have about thirty-four meters past that to get through to reach the ship, and it's possible that she's covered in ice as well."
"Let's cross that bridge when we get to it," the docking pilot orders. "Going around is better than going through. I don't want to risk trapping ourselves here."
And so they head left, before turning and following a series of passages that run around the depression that eventually turn once again toward the TARDIS's pull on her key. This time once they reach the ice sheet they find something else has changed. It's snowing.
Jack shivers, looking out the distorted plane of semi-clear ice at the iridescent gossamer shifting down like smooth glistening transparent scraps of plexi-wrap from the sky. The bioraptor's noises are muffled from snow, big shimmering flakes floating lazily in thick sheets. It's so cold that his breath is making misty puffs in the air. The Doctor and Riddick whisper about how to get through the ice and finally ask Fry for the torch. They won't need a very hot flame with as cold as it is.
The torch makes fairly quick work of the ice, forming a portal that Rich kicks out as soon as the edges are melted. But the ground is slick with the previously laid down ice, even though there is snow atop it. They must move together in an odd shuffle to avoid falling.
It's not that far, yet – it's miles away. They are surrounded by hammerheads, all of which move in closer at this new intrusion to their existence. The sonic bursts don't drive them back; the light doesn't seem to make the shy away. Instead they seem drawn to the heat, because it is so very cold. Jack points his spear at the bunch becoming slowly visible on his right, letting the light swing against his wrist as he forgoes holding it in favor of using both hands with the weapon. "Why are they getting closer?"
"Trying to melt the ice, I suspect," answers Abu who has likewise switched to both hands on the spear he's holding.
River has closed ranks with Jack turning her body to protect Ali, along with Simon, "Not anticipated adaptation."
Across from her, Suleiman copies her stance, forcing Paris to match Simon. "No," he agrees, "Quite unlike what they have done before."
Johns pulls a flare, "Lets give 'em some light that burns then, Ok?" He pops it and chucks it into the mass to the right.
The natives respond to that by erupting up into the air, screeching, a chaotic mass of wild panic that makes those on the left respond by instinct. River, seeing the connections suddenly spring into view, locks eyes with the Doctor and pulls the shiv that Riddick helped her make. The Time Lord's eyes are inhumanly hard and flinty. But he nods to her, letting her know that this is right, and she must do it. To take her place she must make these hard choices, to show him, the storm, what she is made of. She glances over at Jack, catching the boy within her personal 'verse untouched by the outer chaos. Plucking up Paris' fiber optic lead she looks into the boy's green eyes and offers him the shiv.
Jack understands. She's inviting him to make his own freedom. Time seems to stop; the razor sharp edges coming out of the thick snow somehow flowing around them but not touching. It's not just Mr. Olgivie he has a chance to let go of, but his entire past. If only he does it, otherwise River will take the revenge for him but the past will remain to haunt his soul forever. Looking into her eyes he knows this will work. All he has to do is cut the glowing orange cord that she holds in her hand. Peace settles into his being as he takes the brilliantly-crafted razor-sharp blade from River's hand and curls his other over the cord giving himself a tense section to slice through. He can follow Ali's route and be a normal boy. He wants this. Jack cuts the glowing cable, removing himself from the horrors of his past and the potential terror of his future.
River takes the blade back and drops the useless lead before the glow has a chance to fade and presses her spear into Jack's hands because his own flies off, impaled in a hammerhead without the boy's realization. He doesn't question, too busy catching up with himself as time snaps back into normal flow. The freedom is heady.
0o0o0o0o0o0o0
The change that occurs is like lightning coursing through the group. At first it is hard to tell if it's Johns leading the altered mood or someone else. Either way, they all feel it. They all must make a choice.
Riddick sees the action happening behind him and moves to stop Imam from interfering. It's Jack's future. Jack's right to decide. Abu pauses and catches the importance of what is happening and for whatever reason decides that perhaps this is God's will. He turns his attention to poking at a hammerhead flying overhead to keep it away from Ali. The Arabic boy crouches down in the middle of the group, wisely staying safe.
Suleiman is next to the traitor, knowing that it is time. It's as if River reached into his mind and told him exactly what was about to happen, or perhaps he'd always known. As the fade of the fiber optics leaves the man's body he jostles him back inside the group, just enough for the medical scalpel hidden in Simon's hand to become an effective weapon.
The Tam scion hadn't even thought about the blade he carried in case of emergencies until he saw the flash sharpened metal in River's hand. He'd kept the scalpel out so he could cut the lead if Paris panicked, but now it had a different use. The Doctor's voice in his head telling him who had hurt Jack was enough to re-ignite the fury he felt earlier. And alongside his own anger were the simmering emotions of everyone else. Somehow, they all knew. He could see the proof of it from his reopened connection with River, gleaned from Jack.
Seconds passed, the lead cut, floating, glow fading, through the cellophane flakes of snow toward the ground. He blinked. First blue then coppery orange and back to blue as the light fled. He turned in slow motion, following the dimming glow with his eyes. The future opened before him, a golden storm of possibility beyond anything else he had ever imagined. It was terrible and beautiful all at the same time. It was the part of him he buried in an effort to make his father love him, to be proper, right, human. Only he wasn't. He'd never been. Like their mother, neither he nor River had fully been human. Suddenly he knew why River had been sent away. His anger ramped up. This cut, a single swipe, a spill of red, human blood, would open up the locked areas of his being. He could be so much more.
Simon caught Paris as he stumbled back into him. On the brink of his destiny, he hesitated and looked down at the man he was supporting. Stupid ape. Feasting on the innocence of your own young and trying to pass the blame off on them, how many others have you done this to? The words are not his, but the Doctor's, who through the link they share, can see what he does. The Time Lord burns with cold rage that is so much greater than Simon's. And the raven-haired man knows why. It's horrific, the price the Doctor has paid to preserve humanity. Cancer like this doesn't deserve second chances.
To help his sister, he would do anything, brave anything. For Mei-Mei there is no other course of action. It's what she needs to heal. Simon smiles an imperturbable smile at Paris as the man looks up at him from his off-center pose.
The blue eyes Olgivie sees are not the kind eyes of Dr. Simon Tam, but the hard alien eyes of the Doctor. It takes the art dealer a blink to realize that he's been forsaken.
Orange. The man's aura is orange. Bright neon flickers of fear.
The alarm on his face doesn't deter the blade as it cuts length-wise and deep, opening a wound that no matter how cold Paris becomes will continue to bleed on the arm nearest to it. And then Simon pushes him away, between Fry and Johns, tossing the blade out into the snow to his right.
Time snaps back into place as the marshal and the docking pilot close ranks. For reasons unknown to Paris, they have all made the same choice to punish him for what he's done. They leave him with his lit hat and his lit bag but don't attempt to stave off the bioraptors that settle back into the snow around him drawn in by the blood scent. "No! You can't do this. This can't be happening!" He tries to gain his feet on the slick surface of snow covered ice, finally crawling towards the light that is creeping away from him.
John points his shotgun at the man, "You piece of shit, not even the most depraved con does what you did. My dad didn't even sink as low as you did. Don't ask us for mercy."
"I can pay you! Make it up to the boy. I can give him the finest education in the Core that money can buy."
Carolyn looks like she is going to be sick, "Shut the fuck up. We don't want your blood money, you bastard."
Paris tries to crawl faster, thinking that perhaps he can stay within the faint glow and they won't actually leave him here if he can make it to the ship with the rest of them. But the predators are right on him; curious about this red-blooded warm thing expelled out of the fire. One of the razor claws slices at his back and the bag falls away as he crawls, the lights half out, "Oh, sweet Jesus..." He's not going to make it, and the survivors aren't going to give him a second chance. Head down he starts to crawl faster, not caring about the direction as panic wells up in him. Oh why, why did he let the green eyed brat tempt him?
Another raking set of claws slices through the sweater and defunct fiber optic cables. "No, no, no…" it's a nightmare. He loses his glasses as he crawls, and he can't be bothered to try to find them in the snow. He can't stop. Then it happens, a bony blade finds his side and back and slices deeply enough to make him rear up onto his knees with a hiss. The snow parts revealing dark sharp shapes in the white faintly illuminated because of his hat. He's surrounded and there's not sign of the others at all. "I was supposed to die in France. He pulls his lighter as he touches the slick heat flowing over his skin so he can look at it with morbid inquisitiveness. The predators rear back at the new light as he looks at the red coating his hands. He blinks, "I never even saw France." Then there's a squealing buzz and the lighter explodes. He barely has time to scream as the predators pounce on him.
0o0o0o0o0o0o0
"I can't see where he's gone," says Jack.
The Doctor looks at the boy and then points his sonic screwdriver the direction where a moment later a fireball explodes. Jack stares that way listening to the resulting scream.
Richard turns from watching the Doctor, so icy cold in his disregard, to Jack who is looking like a terrible weight has lifted from his thin shoulders, to the mass of feasting predators. The snow actually makes them stand out better. The body is being shredded. A female with a youngling riding on its back noses into the fray but can't seem to get into the meal. She grabs the offspring off and snaps it dead, attempting to trade a bit of flesh for the blood, and her body to the victor. When that doesn't work she begins eating the body of the young she'd been protecting moments before. Around her others begin fighting and killing each other in blood frenzy.
"What do you see, Riddick?" Jack asks.
The ex-ranger looks down at the kid and thinks of the contrast between them and the bioraptors. They wouldn't kill one of their own that they'd been protecting, not one of the young, would they? He swallows and puts a hand on the boy's shoulder before looking back at the mass of fighting monsters. They had turned out one of their and left him to die because he preyed on Jack. Were they any better? He feels the Doctor's brush of reassurance against his mind almost like a physical touch. They were. So much better. They acted together to cast out the cancer that would have destroyed them. He relaxes, "Hunger. Twenty-two years of hunger. "