Helion Prime was a crossroads. The makeup of its citizens attested to that. The city was home to every variation in stature, shade, and sensibility of contemporary humanity. It was all reflected in the city's art, in its commerce, in its entertainment. On its streets, citizens went about business with a slightly superior attitude. In its skies, every imaginable transport craft hurried along.

Even in its politics, the cities melting pot feel was evident. Uncommon to Helion government, yelling and shouting filled the outer chambers and anterooms of the capitol dome—an immense dome that dominated the skyline of the capital city of New Mecca.

Pulling on a cloak, one woman fled the cacophony. Her expression was drawn up, disgusted and depressed at the same time. She appeared worn out and fatigued and utterly fed up. Curious beyond restraint, an aide intercepted her as she was treading out of the Dome. With a nod of his head, he indicated the barely controlled chaos that presently filled the interior.

"Delegate Fry, I've been working under you for three years, and I have been attending these meetings only six months less. I have never seen such signs of dissention. What is happening in there?"

"Alli," the delegate paused, a slow smile forming on her face. "How many times have I told you to call me Caroline—or at least just Fry?"

Alli smiled bashfully, "Many apologies, delegate Fry. But I'm afraid that familiar titles will make me seem unprofessional."

"You're fifteen, Alli," Fry chortled, patting his head affectionately. "You mustn't be so serious, yet. You are far too young."

"Yes, delegate—" Alli blushed faintly before correcting himself. "Caroline."

Fry nodded, smiling politely and straightening her robes. "As for what's going on… When all is said and done? Much will be said—and nothing will be done. Go take a peak if you want to. But I expect you home within the hour."

Alli's face brightened considerably as Fry swept away, cloak billowing around her. He quickly made his way over to the large towering doors, his curious gaze peering through the crack. The shouting and arguing within didn't bode well. The comments and observations being made only seemed to unsettle him more—he knew that Fry would talk to him about it later. She would make sure that he understood the issues fully.

"Shut down the beacons!" The Defense Minister roared, her voice strong even in a gaggle of powerful voices. "We need to save the energy; save all the resources for this world! We can't continue to export at a time of such uncertainly, when planetary defense should be everyone's first priority."

Alli seemed puzzled. Was there something coming? He shuddered at the memory of talons and harpy-like screams. Surely what these people were debating on couldn't compare to the horror of his past. Surely such things as this were these men and woman of peace's real issue. Surely that was nothing to what he and his patchwork family went through.

As the arguments grew louder and more heated, Alli withdrew from his spot. He didn't want to know this. He didn't need to. Twelve different planets going dark couldn't mean anything to him. He was finally finding his footing—whatever this was, it couldn't tear his newer, happier world apart.

Then again, 'denial' wasn't just a methane river on Helion Omega in the New Egypt district.

Fry could have taken a personal or public transport, but when possible she preferred to walk. She used to love flying—subzero space travel mostly—but nowadays she generally liked to keep her feet on the ground. Quitting being a pilot had been a tough decision. She could only thank her stars that she'd double majored in economics back in University before she'd become a registered flyer—otherwise she would have been out of a job.

As it was, her job as delegate in New Mecca was quite well paying.

She came in sight of her destination, and she glanced at her delicate but rather old-fashioned watch. Gawking at the time, she knew that her partner would be angry with her for being so late. Though New Mecca was considered to be one of the safest capital cities in the known 'Verse, it still had its flaws. Shazza hated it when she wasn't home on time—she said it made her worry.

Reading and responding to her biometrics, the doorway opened to admit her entry. She paused as the door shut behind her, listening to the sound of a running shower and the 'Verse's newest music trickle down from upstairs. She had begun to relax as she entered the parlor, stripping off her cloak with a sigh of relief. She dragged a hand through her blonde hair, but came to an abrupt halt when a sound informed her that she was wrong: all was not as it should be. That she recognized the sound didn't trouble her nearly as much as the fact that she recognized the voice that spoke to her over the steady scrape, scrape of blade against synthetic stone.

"It was the worst place I could find," the familiar gravely tone spoke in volumes. "I had been wondering if I kept going those kinds of places I would find him. Searched far and wide. I just wanted him. I wanted to be free with him and ignored by all else. Funny how I always get the opposite of what I want."

Fry gulped loudly, turning toward the voice. She knew that if its owner had wanted her dead she would be. She would already be lying on the floor, a test-drive for decomposing bacteria.

"Where?" She croaked out, voice wavering.

"Some frozen heap," Riddick was murmuring as he worked. The blade sliding smoothly over his increasingly bare skull; thick, unruly locks fell like dead mambas on the floor below him. "No real name, no real sun. Thought maybe he would be hiding under the snow there. Been running out of planets to search. There isn't much else out there for a man like him to hide. Too unique… I was just hoping I could search for him in the shadows of nowhere." Straightening, he studied his handiwork in a mirror that hung on the wall, almost as if he could see the darkness of the small but extravagant workspace. Except that, as Fry knew, there was no 'almost' about it.

Riddick turned to the silent woman, a frown on his face. "But someone wouldn't let me do it. Someone couldn't leave bad enough alone. Suppose I shouldn't have been surprised. People have always disappointed me."

Even in the poor lighting, eye contact was made. Fry stayed silent. There was no point in speaking until commentary was needed. She didn't want to say anything that might upset her uninvited guest. From experience, Fry knew that it didn't take much—especially when discussing the missing member of their patchwork family. Without thinking, she glanced upstairs, and Riddick's lips twitched amusedly.

"She's in the shower," he muttered dryly, "other one's singing rather off tune."

Fry nodded, a small tremor running up her spine.

"I told one person where I'd be going to look for him. Trusted one person when I left this place. After what we'd been through, I thought I could do that much…" Riddick said, ominously twirling the shiv in his hand. "Was I wrong?"

"There isn't a simple answer—"

The blade was resting under her chin the instant she uttered the last syllable. She never even saw him move. One moment he'd been dangling it precariously from his fingers, and the next it was cold and biting against the soft skin of her neck.

"Was. I. Wrong?" Riddick repeated with deceptive softness.

There was a notable quaver in her voice when she spoke, "I give you my word, Riddick. As delegate to the government of Helion Prime—" The large man made noise that some would consider unflattering. "—and as a friend, that whatever has been said was merely to give us a fighting chance. If not for the events during these past few months, things might—"

She broke off, as a third presence became known in the room. Their gazes shifted to the stairway, where a young woman stared back with excited eyes. She didn't seem to notice the danger her adoptive mother was in—or, she simply believed the danger a sham. Either way, her face broke into an elated smile as she bounced slightly on her toes.

"Riddick?" She asked, hoping this wasn't a dream.

His brow quirked up bemusedly. "Jack."

The eighteen year old almost squealed in delight. She was about to dart down the stairs to greet her much-missed savior, but a hand on her shoulder made her pause. Shazza stood, garbed in a silk robe and still wet from the shower. Her bright eyes glanced between Riddick and her wife, and her face curled in confusion.

"Riddick," she said, echoing Jack. "What the bleedin' hell do you think you're doin'?"

Her tone was heated and threatening. It made him recall a time when she'd taken the liberty of trying to bash his face in. With a low chuckle, he drew the knife away from Fry's neck. Advancing up the steps, he scanned the women with a flashing silver gaze. Jack's pulse seemed to pick up, but Shazza simply stood there, brow raised. He circled the two of them before halting as he spotted something. He gingerly lifted her right hand, seemingly fascinated by the delicate gold ring there. He glanced down at Fry, a slight smile on his face.

"Married?"

"It happened not long after…" her voice trailed off. She didn't need to explain. Riddick had been there for all the 'after'.

"You know," Riddick muttered, dropping Shazza's hand in order to circle them all again. "It's been a long time since 'beautiful entered my skull… How long has it been, Fry?"

"Five. Five years."

Shazza rolled her eyes, "Like you don't already know that, you sod."

"Good Gamma, I've missed you, Riddick." Jack exclaimed suddenly, practically jumping out of her skin as she wrapped her arms around his neck in an awkward embrace. Awkward for Riddick.

Shazza tried not to laugh at the slightly baffled look on the grown man's face. His brow quirked up as a small chuckle escaped her. With slow, hesitant movements, Riddick pat Jack on the back as she buried her face in the crook of his neck. It had been a long time since he'd been around life. It had been even longer since he'd been held so close. Since he'd felt any sort of compassion.

Jack pulled back slowly, a goofy smile on her face as she reveled in the sight of him. "Have you missed me?"

Riddick paused, uncertain for a moment before he nodded. "I have. You've grown up, Jack."

"I know, right?" She giggled, bright eyes gleaming.

And she had grown up. She was taller. Lither. If she'd been anyone else, he would have probably felt an attraction to her. But she was Jack. She was Naruto's Jack. Riddick let his heart ache at the thought of him.

"Come, Jack." Shazza drew the young woman away, a fleeting smile passing over her as she escorted the girl down the hall. "Leave them to speak."

There was a long pause before Riddick turned to Fry again. Their gazes crashed and she saw the pain hidden there. She saw the loss and desire mingling and consuming everything Riddick used to be. He was lost. Just like the rest of them.

"Who did you tell?" He asked resignedly. "Who do I gotta put on a slab to get this rancid payday offa my head? You should've kept your mouth shut."

"Events conspired. We needed you." Fry relaxed a little. "You can't find them. Even if you look."

The large man grinned. "Why would I look? When you can bring them to me?"

"It's not as easy as that, Riddick."

His smile vanished immediately. "Don't talk to me about what isn't easy. I know that more than most. My whole life has been about surviving what isn't easy."

Fry went to speak again, "Riddick—"

"If communications still function on this over lit ball of dirt, it's time to use them."

TBC.