A/N: OtherMeWriter, Robin Moto, My Reflection, BalrogsBreath, mirth513 : thanks for the feedback. A bit about Gallifreyan mythology will be added to the Forum. I've also added some about the elementals from Riddick. The info is from a source that I will quote. And how close will this follow the Dark Fury plot? Fairly close, unless I come up with something better. Can I stretch this out to 34 chapters? Um… maybe not, but… I intend to flow into other bits, from Firefly and the Pre-'Rose' scenes actually, before the end. And actually there's one in this chapter. :-D
I want to point out that my use of slang is intentional, with Paris, Jack, and Riddick all having been exposed to Blue Sun areas before in the last story, and carrying on here with this one. And of course, Simon and River already are immersed in it, but learning about the other colonies now. Now you might wonder why I'm still showing some Chinese, if the TARDIS is translating… for Jack, Simon, River, and Riddick Chinese is just about as natural as English. So from their Point Of View the Chinese's full meanings are more potent then the English would be. I've set this back in time 17 years so that I can add in some scenes and fit some events into place… Like the Into Pitch Black data that has Riddick as an adult being in prison for 29 years when he's from a planet that was destroyed right around his birth 25 years ago… Huh.

Summary: The Doctor, reeling from the effects of the TimeWar as the last surviving TimeLord, stumbled into a situation he could not ignore when the TARDIS landed him inside a ship that was clearly in trouble. After the rescue, he's left with eight survivors that he must somehow get to safety. But the situation is not as cut and dry as he might like. His people may be gone, but the stamp he's made on the universe is still there, and he finds himself caught in a web spun of the choices he's made in the past…

It's 2517. Something in history 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 had it that one ship did. Risking a ghost run, the only contact that the two sides have, the Hunter-Gratzner crashed midway through the journey. Original Port of Departure: Eavesdown Docks, Persephone. Mixed Sino-Anglo culture. Original Port of Call: Tangiers-5. Darkside. Mixed Islamic-Anglo culture. Crew complement: Four. Passengers: Forty. Living 'Cargo': Two. Survivors: Eight plus One

So what happens to Dr. Simon Tam, his brilliant but damaged sister, a convicted murder by the name of Richard B. Riddick, and the other survivors from the crash of the Hunter-Gratzner at planet M-344/G-2 now that they are on their way home? They end up slightly out of their own Time, on a ship filled with living sculptures… And just how is this related to the TimeWar?

A Doctor Who / Firefly / Riddick crossover.

Features Doctor 9, Pre-"Rose"; Simon and River Tam, Pre-"Serenity" Firefly episode 1 and the survivors from Pitch Black: Carolyn Fry, William J. Johns, Imam Abu al'Walid, 'Jack B. Badd', Ali Abdullah, and Richard B. Riddick…

Doctor Who and the Ties that Bind.

Part Six

Captive

They were poked, prodded, shoved -- rather roughly escorted down a number of narrow twisty passages that if they'd been made of stone would have been perfect in a dungeon setting, except for the overly clean state and metal walls. Guns prickled the air in front of them, and guns poked from behind, and frankly, Johns figured they could take these bastards. There were only thirty-four of them after all. They just wiped the walls with fifty. This would be easy, if Jack and Ali weren't in the way. Damn, he was going soft. So the marshal snarled at the overweight excuse for a merc when he was pushed again and bit back the urge to tell the bastard off.

Riddick didn't keep his words to himself, "Move to hit the boy again, and I'll break your go-tsao-de nose," he warned the merc that had struck Jack once when the kid had nearly fallen because of the speed they were being ushered through the uneven passages at. The expression on the con's face made the man pull up short. "Jack, step up here in front of me." Johns stepped into the boy's exited place to keep the merc from moving up too and gave him a look that read, Wanna try to hit me?

River and Simon both tried to protect Ali although the mercs seemed less inclined to go for him with the Imam right behind him. Carolyn glared at everything with sparking eyes just so that the male guards understood that she'd remove any 'family jewels' that came too close to either herself or the dark-haired girl. She was doing a very good job of hiding how terrified she was behind a wall of anger.

And then there was the Doctor. He was walking quietly, his eyes hooded, his body language closed off. To have said he was infuriated was likely a huge understatement. Although River had come away with a slight cut on her forehead, being shaken up but unharmed, the fact that she'd even been threatened in the first place had earned Junner a slot on the 'will get revenge' table. The Doctor's internal list was really very short, as far as that went. He'd totally eliminated the individuals of his own ilk that had made their way onto the list long before the War. That being the case, it had the words, Dalek, Dalek, Chillingsworth, Junner, and Unknown - Blue Sun Alliance, on it.

And the only reason the term Dalek was still there was because he had seen too much evidence that something of them still existed for him to totally remove them. Even if he hadn't seen indication of their technology being incorporated into Kovan items he'd be unable to discount Daleks totally. The TimeWar made sure of that. The parasite made sure of that. He'd just about had it with the fella aiming the gattling-styled energy weapon at his back too. The brown-haired head dipped just enough to avoid the piping running cross counter to the passage they were moving down and seriously, It would be just too easy to put a boot up that annoying little ape's arse.

They were steered into a different hall, one that was wider and taller, lined with energy field blocked doorways that held cryo-tubes both empty and full, or prisoners that were quite awake, not all of which were human. In fact, more than a few looked quite – non-human. There were reptilian humanoids, not so humanoid - might have once been a mammal - mutants, and a number of other aggressive creatures of varying intelligence and or wit. But what caught his eye was something altogether different. Wasn't that a clutch Mutos-Krakis Juveniles? The Time Lord had to force himself to not turn and stare at the multi-tentacled, grayish-green blob of flesh that he's fairly sure is a Skaroisan lifeform. How in Rassilon's name did those survive? Which leads to another question that is more along the lines of wondering why they survived. He can make a fair guess, however. Likely they are here so that the Rychengolls can design new technology that their Dalek masters can use. They are lab rats, and rejects because they don't possess the genius level intellect required for real Dalek warriors. That gives him a grim comfort.

One of the octopus-like, air-breathing creatures focused on the new group and flashed a complex pattern of red, mauve, heliotrope, and maroon. It gestures in rather angry motions as the colors shift, rather bright enough to nearly glow. The translation is vulgar beyond anything the Doctor would stoop so low as to call another intelligent lifeform. And it is directed solely at him. The instant recognition built into the biology of all Skaroisan mutants gives them away. The Time Lord narrows his eyes and forces himself to not go for one of the weapons that are so prominently displayed around him. Oh. That's just too insulting! Instead he goes for an insult that is significantly more evolved "I don't like you either! You repulsive – lab rat," the Doctor hisses back at it. He's not proficient at the extreme pigment altering form of communication, as far as speaking it goes but he understands it fluently.

His words cause his group to look over in time to see the other mutants in the recess huddle forward and begin flashing like a mob behind police lines. Clearly the creatures understand the Doctor quite well, even if his form of language is nothing like their own. They are a mass of wild clashing colors, shifting like a wild mass of mis-matched neon signs.

One of the mercs calls out, "Hey! Hey! Easy -- easy there. You know how to contact the boss! Back it off before I increase the power." Not only can they understand the Time Lord, but also there's little doubt that the creatures understand the human language and attitude in general even if they don't or can't vocalize back. Several turn away, one moves to a keypad built into the wall, and another makes what can only be viewed as a rude gesture to the merc. Several if its fellows gang up and pull it back from the energy barred portal.

The guards decide to just get the bunch they are escorting behind a security field as fast as possible so that they don't land in the middle of a riot. One of them punches the panel, "Get in or we'll shoot you all." The rest of the weapons come up; looking like the threat is a very real one.

Imam hustles the boys and River inside, Simon and Fry follow. But it takes William and Richard to drag the Doctor inside the cell, because, more than likely, he's really too busy growling sub-sonically deep in his throat to realize that he's been ordered inside. Across the way and just at the edge of their sight, the odd inhuman tentacled creature that had started this flashes more shades of red, russet, lavender, and mauve before slipping it's fellows and ramming it's force field hard enough to make the energy project outward. The Doctor's response is to tense up, revealing to both Rich and Billy exactly how strong he is. Much more Herculean that he looks to be, certainly. His posture actually helps the two men drag in backwards because they can lift him slightly. "Turn up the security on the Shrill, will ya?" says one merc as he toggles energy shield closed on the cell in front of them as soon as the Time Lord is hauled inside.

"Yes sir," the overweight merc moves over to the cage across the hall and sets to work on the controls for the containment field. He is nearly blinded by the flashing light show that is tossed his way, "Hey, cut it out!" The fellow puts a hand over his eyes; "You got a problem with our new guests take it up with the captain!" Once he's finished upping the energy flowing into the grid he rejoins his fellows and the armed guard tromps out, leaving the two sides to 'glare' at one another from across the room.

Johns jerks away from the pale man's navy clad arm as soon as he realizes he's been snarled at by Riddick, "No problem, man. I'm going." He backs off to the far corner and hunches down to sit on his heels. The Doctor doesn't show any sign that he notices. But at least the scary sub-sonic rumble has stopped. "So, what the fuck do we do now?"

"I'm sure we'll come up with something," Carolyn offers. Then as she tugs her gray coat tighter around herself, "Why do they keep it so cold in here?"

"The 'Shrill'," the Doctor says from the door, voice dripping with contempt, "are an ice-environment mutation. This is borderline deathly hot for them." His eyes never leave the flashing colors he's seeing from the other cell. For a very long time the silence swirls with unspoken questions.

Imam took a deep breath and settled Ali and Jack down near the light so he could look at the bruise on Jack's cheek, "Dr. Tam do you have anything that can lessen the effects of the blow that Jack took?"

Simon finishes checking River and patching the cut on her forehead, "Yes. Here, let me look." He kneels down by the green-eyed boy and turns his pixie-like face, "At least you don't have a black eye, eh, Jack?"

"Did you see the smoke bomb?" The boy grins as a cream is applied to his cheek, "Ali and I made those! How cool is that?"

Simon smiles, "Yes, that was a most effective chemistry lesson, yesterday, wasn't it?"

"I like chemistry!" Ali said.

Imam ran his fingers through the mop of shiny black hair on the boy's head, "Just be careful how you use them, you two. Listen to your elders and let them guide you." Ali nodded up at Abu. Jack made a face and then nodded too. The dark skinned man smiled at them both.

Then the redhead cleared his throat, "Still got a huge ass-load of questions, the most important being 'What the fuck is going on here?' but I'd settle for getting an answer on 'What was the bitch-witch babbling about?', M'kay?"

The holy man got a dark look on his face. Simon slightly mirrored it but not to the degree that Abu was expressing. River tilted her head as if Johns was sideways and she needed to see him upright, straightened up and shook like she was casting off something, "The Storm. Oncoming. Feared. Karshtakavaar." She looked over at the Doctor and Rich who were standing together by the door. "Ancient legends. Dong ma?"

"Oh, sure. But I don't know those stories, so please spill?" William looked from River to Simon to Abu. After a sigh, the holy man recounted his legend about the 'Destroyer of Worlds' as he remembered it, down to the detail of the 'dragon' that could change to blend with it's surroundings. Johns listened as intently as the two boys did as none of them had heard the story before. Only after did he mention something he spotted on the Time Lord back when they were still stuck on the planet, "Would this 'dragon' have anything to do with the tattoo on the Doctor's right forearm?"

What? Rich snatched the arm in question and pushed up the sleeve to reveal a small, nine centimeter long, black serpentine dragon on the fleshy inner area below the Time Lord's elbow. The sight triggered a rapid rush of flashing images, sensations, and sounds. An orange sky with a small sun climbing from the south. Tranquillity. Soft brown curly hair. Security. Masculine laugher, different but familiar. Silver leaves swaying in a warm summer breeze. The feel and rustle of velvet. A blonde Lady in a simple dress with a heart-shaped face and lively sparkling eyes smiling down at him. Love. The same mark on a lightly tanned, almost delicate, male shoulder glistening with water from a swim. His childlike hand reaching for a glimpse of soft leather. A woman's voice singing. It's all there and gone. He can taste honey on his tongue. Something about that is important.

He tightened his grip as the Doctor turned his glare on him, "Most people just ask."

"Why didn't I notice this before?" Riddick knows he should remember this mark, that he knew someone with it, and that this someone was very important to him growing up. He's beginning to wonder if this isn't the same person. But how? The memories he has that are clear don't jive with the ones that this mark is associated with.

The jerking motion made by the taller man caused the wider one to half-trip a step closer as he refused to let go, "Maybe I didn't want you to."

Nose to nose now, and Richard's not sure what he wants to do. He's angered that Johns saw the mark and he didn't, and yet – There's pain behind that glare. The bronze man puts his other hand up on the Doctor's face, letting his argument fall. It doesn't matter, not really. He's thinking that he should know this face, if he knows that mark, only he doesn't, not the face at least. But he does know the storm that rages behind it. He slides his hand up into the Doctor's hair and pulls his head down until they are resting forehead to forehead. The sweet on his tongue is so very important, but he can't remember why.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

She woke suddenly, going from lying flat to sitting up, the fire burning through but not harming her. The aura of flame licks across her flesh, hot and visible, but not damaging anything around her. She is an 'Ifritah, after all. A true fire elemental in female form. Like all of her kind she is beautiful, passionate, and willful, bending only to the call of the greater good, the Red Guardian. Unlike most other of her people, however, she cannot be seen with flames racing over her skin because of her position in the society that she is currently embroiled in. The fact that it is only adds to her emotional distress caused by the sudden unexplained wakefulness.

In contrast to her perfectly tanned complexion, her sable curls are a wild mess, a dark halo around her exquisite face. The state of her hair matches the condition of her mind as the images begin to drop away leaving her feeling as if she's entered in a dream and that the waking was what she left behind. For a horrible instant she can't remember where she is. Sihnon floats through her mind. She's still at the Companion House Madrassa, where she has been studying and serving as a Companion for the last decade. She looks at the flames licking her hand and takes a deep breath.

There has been undeniable change. Something fundamental in the 'Verse has shifted. She can feel it deep in the root of her being, as if the very nature of what she is has been wrenched, twisted, and snapped back into place.

Tossing aside the coverlet of her sleeping mat, she gracefully gains her feet and pushes open the shutters with an elegant hand to let in the cool wintry air. It's an automatic reflex to dampen the flames. Only this time it is not enough.

Panic tinges her vision, as she tries to figure out what is different. It doesn't take her long to hone in on the constant computations that the back of her mind is always working on. And then she sees it. The Block-Transfer string that her people maintain has shifted, resting even more weight upon the minds of Quintessan elite. She gulps down air, trying to get her visible aura back under control before someone comes knocking on her door.

The red metallic engraved disk that is her link to her homeworld is what she needs right now, to see if anyone else has noticed the change. Each of her calculations are revising themselves as the true implications of the alterations make themselves known. She plucks the disk from it's hiding spot behind the Companion's shrine at the far side of her room and freezes. Shivers flow through her. The disk has become golden. Only one possibility exists for that to have happened, and she's not sure the ancient network this device relies on still exists now. She won't know until she tries it. Heart thudding in her chest now, she activates the communication device, hoping that there is someone on the other end to answer her. After a moment there's a wispy airy voice that breathes, "Inara?"

She takes a hasty, thankful lung of air, "Aereon? I was sure that this wouldn't work anymore."

"Why child? Our duties have not ended. In fact, they seem to have increased."

"So, you see the change too? Was there any warning, any clue at all?"

"The numbers show that it was ordained that the renegade would be alone on the eve of his ascension, but for those representing the elements who shall join together to lift him up. The Red Guardian will be coming to you, Child. You must maintain your cover."

"My calculations indicate that my time grows short, Aereon. They are beginning to wonder why I show no sign of age. But I'm loath to abandon by post if I'm needed."

"Soon, child, the rebellion there will be over and the way will open for you. For now, disguise your nature with the trappings that others use to maintain their youth. Rest now, 'Ifritah." And with that the disk became inactive again, but it remained golden. She brushed her thumb over the alien symbols that represented the most advanced evolution in math that had ever risen, and knew that the people responsible for it were gone. Her heart became very heavy. What would happen in the days to come, now that the 'Verse rested on the very human shoulders of her people? While it was true that they had worked with, allied themselves with, accepted the evolutionary help of… Time Lords they were not. As willing Children of the Red Guardian, they understood that only his justice, his balance, kept the 'Verse alive when both the forces of too much order and too much chaos threatened to overwhelm it. And the other Guardians? Unchanging, flighty, or so immersed in life itself that it had no awareness of the threat… They simply allowed the others to do as they would. The weight became pain as the grief built inside her.

She slipped the disk onto a chain and put it around her neck, settling under the shimmering red and amber silk of her nightgown. The process allows her to get her unruly tresses back into some form of normalcy. Then the future possible head of the Companion's Guild did something she had never done before and would never allow herself to do again. She lit six sticks of incense for the Six-fold-God; Sandalwood, Clove, Cinnamon, Myrrh, Frankincense, and Lotus; and wept for the loss of the Lords of Time.