I'd like to thank my reviewers: shadowoftheblackdeat, Quiet Slumber, Flowerchild23 and two anonymous people. I love you guys, and each of your comments are highly appreciated.

Yes, my updates are generally weekly ones. I usually update every Monday, though sometimes I feel nice and decide to publish on a Sunday instead. These next two weeks will follow this rule, however at the beginning of the next month I'm leaving to spend a month in China for my education. I'm not sure if I'll bring my computer along (I'm deathly afraid something might happen to it), and even if I do, I don't know if I'll have the time to write (since I'll be studying Mandarin non-stop) or if I'll have internet to post anything. So I'm warning you guys that I don't know what will happen next month. Hopefully this update, as well as the next two, will be good enough for you guys to not be too disappointed if it turns out there won't be any updates at all next month.

Oh, and we have some Riddick here too! The main character completely butchers his name, because she doesn't know how to write 'Riddick'. :P

I'm very ver sorry. I was so completely sure I had posted this yesterday, but turns out I got it wrong. Funny, I woke up this morning thinking 'hey, how come I didn't get even one hit?'. I was wondering what went wrong. I hope you guys appreciate this chapter, I wrote it yesterday morning in one go! Had a lot of inspiration.

-x-x-x-

Because I have already lived my fair share of shocking events today, I ignore the third sun that has appeared in the sky, and pretend it is nothing new. Truthfully, I am still screaming inside, and I have been for a while, but after some time, unexpected happenings like these don't have much of an effect anymore. I've become used to it all, I think.

I notice, as I leave the ship, that nearly all the people that had been sunbathing just outside the ship have moved to some other place. After some searching, I finally hear them, and look up. Ah. They've all converged on the roof of the ship, sitting on chairs, discussing and talking with drinks in their hands.

They don't see very worried about being stranded on a desertic planet, so I assume someone is coming to retrieve and help us come off this place. Because... these people would've seemed more frightened if nobody could come here and help us, and if their lack of fright means that we can leave anytime, I don't know why we aren't doing so now. So I presume there's a problem with the ship. It does look a bit damaged here and there, and I assume it isn't safe to fly with. So we will probably have someone come retrieve us.

Since I don't know what else to do, I decide to join the group of people on the roof. I try and place my bag in a way that'll ensure it doesn't fall off, and climb up on a ladder that's been conveniently placed on the side of the ship. It takes me a bit longer than I'd like, and I struggle a bit with the task of climbing up. That's mostly due to the fact that I am not very... I don't... I don't really practice any sports or anything, and my muscles aren't in the best of shapes. Luckily I am not fat or overweight, but I still don't look like I possess much body-strength.

"Fait chier," I grumble when I nearly fall.

Nobody actually looks at me as I climb up, with is helpful. Had they been looking, I would've felt pressurized into climbing faster. I join the group, and since there are not many seats, I'm forced to sit down on the metal of the ship. At least I'm not the only one forced to do so. I would've felt awkward if everyone was sitting on a chair, and I was the only one down on the ground (well, the roof of the ship).

I sit next to the blonde woman from before, the Fry one. I think her name was Caroline? Carole? Uhhh... I think I've forgotten.

Strangely enough, the metal of this ship isn't hot - I would've thought that the metal would be boiling with these three suns and the extraordinary heat of this place. But the metal feels cool. It's probably futuristic technology that is the reason for this. Maybe something that enables metal to keep at normal temperature? That would probably explain why this ship can survive crossing space without becoming a gigantic block of ice when there isn't a sun within the vicinity, and it also explains how the ship broke into the atmosphere of this planet at high speeds without bursting into flames.

These people around me are talking and I don't really know what's happening. I look around me and I don't see many familiar faces. Well, duh. It's not like I had the time to make many friends here.

I notice the two black guys I followed around earlier; they are here.

I gently tug at the blonde woman's arm, and I try to explain to her, no, to ask her, with my pathetic amount of English: What's happening?

"What, er... why now? What se passe now?"

She doesn't understand much, but what she does is call a man over, who looks a bit older than her. She says something to him, and he looks at me with an expectant gaze. Since I don't know exactly what I'm supposed to do, I repeat my questions to him, using a bizarre mix of English and French words, hoping the message will be understandable.

And then, as if my magic, he opens his mouth to talk, and French comes out.

"Vous parlez français?"

Well, yeah, it's not the best French there is. He has an accent that makes me wince, and he uses his déterminants all wrong, but I can understand him!

I feel so happy... but not happy enough to hug him. I don't know him enough, and randomly hugging someone would be weird, and not necessarily socially acceptable.

He talks to me, and he seems to have a bit of trouble finding the right words when it comes to answering my questions. What I am told, basically, is that the ship is full of passengers going to some place called 'Nee-oo Meka', and I'm not sure if that supposed to be a planet, a city or a solar system, but I don't bother asking that, considering it unimportant. He also tells me that people are coming to retrieve everyone here, since the ship is, like I guessed, unable to fly. Well, not in any safe way, and the captain has sent a message to his superiors, and they told him to wait there because he would be risking too many lives if he were to decide to fly the ship anyway, with us on it. I also hear that in about an hour or so, these 'rescuers' will be there.

I don't how to explain to him I lack proper identification that the 'rescuers' might ask for, but somehow... I don't know how this French-speaking guy does it, but he sees the problem and he points at a young boy nearby and tells me that yes, this one is in the same situation. From what he tells me afterwards, I think he believes I'm some sort of runaway. He doesn't seem overly bothered by the ID thing. So probably that means that this futuristic world doesn't care much about that.

It's strange, because back at home you need a passport to travel anywhere, and I've always thought that the future would be some sort of place where everything is under tight control, with cameras everywhere, and all events are on the internet within seconds. You wouldn't be able to make a single mistake without everyone knowing. Murder and rape would be at an all-time low, since the criminal would be caught immediately, what with the constant surveillance thing.

I see the future as a place where there is a distinct lack of privacy and freedom.

This world... actually proves I was wrong with my predictions. I think that somewhere along the line, humanity must've decided they wanted to keep their privacy, because I haven't seen a single camera here. It's possible that they are too small to be noticed, but I doubt that. Nobody ever asked for my ID, or for me to prove I was a passenger on this ship. If I had to show them a ticket, I'd be in major trouble. After discussing with this man, I have the impression the that future is much more free than the past, and much less rigid and strict on protocol.

He tells me a few more things. He likes speaking a lot about this woman he likes, that he will be seeing in the 'Nee-oo Meka'. After some time, I just stop listening. i am grateful, of course, that someone speaks French here, but his grasp of the language isn't the best, and I'm not truly interested in hearing about his wife.

But then, comes the interesting part. He asks me how come I can speak a dead language, yet I am unable to speak the common tongue, the one used in trade that everyone is expected to know. At that moment, I realize that sometime between my time and now, French has become a dead language, as has every language on Earth, save English. English is this 'common tongue' everyone speaks, and there is no mention of Chinese, despite the fact that Mandarin was turning out to be the next big language used in business. With how important China was becoming back in my time, I would've thought Chinese would be a very important language here too.

So, yes, funnily enough, I speak a dead language that only a few obsessed history nuts can claim to speak fluently, and there is a distinct lack of information of French grammar in history, so it turns out that it is impossible to speak it as well as I do. The man I'm speaking with seems very interested in how I can possibly know it so well.

I am beyond lucky to have found anybody capable of talking with me. Basically, I am in a whole lot of trouble right now, considering the fact that I'm unable to communicate with anybody. My surprise and horror is cut short by the arrival of that blonde guy, the master of the slave I gave water to.

He looks a bit... well... I think he's worried. It's the emotion i read on his face. He says something loudly to everybody, and... I don't understand what he says, but he does repeat 'Ridik' several times. I don't know what 'Ridik' means, and the closest English word I can think of is 'ridiculous'. Perhaps he's telling everybody it's ridiculous to stay on the roof of this ship with only a few flimsy parasols to protect our skin against the glares of three suns? Well, anyway, whatever he says has everyone gasping in shock in a very theatrical manner. There's even a woman who faints!

I want to laugh, but I don't dare doing so.

Everybody is looking as worried as the blonde man. The man points downwards. the people on the roof start climbing down, obeying what was obviously an order from the blonde guy. I don't really see why. They even leave their drinks near their chairs, not even bothering to finish them. What a waste.

I can see that there are some people coming out of the ship. Everyone is converging on the ground, by the spot where the blonde man pointed. I think a head-count is being done. Is someone missing? Or they might be trying to see who the corpses were by process of elimination.

I follow the crowd down the ladder, careful not to drop my bag by accident. They start counting us and I can hear that the blonde slave-master, the one I dislike, is announcing something important. And then there's that little boy, the one who is apparently in a similar ID-less situation as me, who seems pretty excited and is saying something loudly, smiling.

Annoyed, I sigh.

I barely arrive on the roof of the ship, and then I'm forced back down just to listen to useless babble I don't get.

Feeling very bored, I look around for something interesting. Then, my gaze goes back up to the roof of the ship, and I'm filled with a sense of longing for the shade provided by the parasols. It's at that moment that I notice movement on the roof. My eyes focus, and I see that the slave is one the roof, sitting on one of the chairs, and drinking from one of the drinks left up there. He's wearing black goggles with darkened glasses. Despite the fact that I don't see his eyes, I'm positive he's looking at me.

I wave at him.

Moving slowly, he offers me a lazy wave back.

Hm. What a nice guy.