22. Uncompromising

"I can't figure it out." Zemma told Riddick as they approached the ship.

They'd been walking quietly, engaged in their own thoughts. The dim halls of local time replaced by the bright and busy, unsleeping port.

"Figure what out?"

"How to stop you from going to Jack. I can't hit you over the head. Either it won't hurt you at all, or I might actually hurt you. I can't lock you up. I wouldn't even know where to begin to drug you."

Riddick chuckled. No. She couldn't stop him from doing anything he'd decided to do.

"Why do you want to stop me? Still don't trust me?"

Zemma heard something in that last part. Something she needed to pay attention to. Riddick wasn't going to give her the chance to follow up on it though, he went on quickly:

"Deak is gonna look at the tapes of the port sooner or later. He's gonna see Jack leaving this ship. He's gonna come looking. We gotta not be here. Jack has to make a choice. Maybe she did already."

"I don't want to leave without her," Zemma whispered as they entered the ship. She hadn't wanted to speak loud enough for Don to hear her, wherever he may be on the ship. It was unfortunate that he was waiting for them.

Don emanated disapproval. "Ship's ready. We can go now." He placed ever so light an emphasis on 'now'.

"Not without Jack." Zemma crossed her arms, her voice flat, and her gaze steady between the two men.

"Why?" This time it was Don's question, though slightly less a question and more a demand. His black eyes penetrated her, his whole bearing tightly controlled and slightly imposing.

Zemma wouldn't back down from the man she loved; she certainly wasn't going to back down from Don. But she didn't relish a confrontation with her former teacher either.

"We are not leaving without her." Zemma brushed past Don. Riddick stayed behind. Neither man spoke. Zemma spoke with her back to them. "She's ours."

"She obviously doesn't want to be here." Don voiced Riddick's opinion.

Zemma spoke over her shoulder, not looking at either of them. "How do you know what she wants? Ever talk to her?" She felt herself getting angry. She almost never got angry… for more than three seconds. "She's young. She's scared. She's always been alone." Zemma took a breath and let it out slowly, counting in her head. She knew how that sounded, now that she'd said it out loud. Zemma had been alone a long time too.

Apparently, Don caught it too. "She's not you."

Riddick was silent, but she didn't hear him leave.

"She deserves her chance." Zemma said more quietly. Her face felt hot.

"She's had more than one." Don retorted.

Zemma turned to face them both again, pleading a little. "She didn't try to kill me, she didn't even put me in danger… this time." Zemma knew she couldn't avoid Jack's first attack on her. She couldn't justify it, she could only… "I forgive her. Why can't…"

"You're not the only one she hurt." Riddick spoke calmly, leaning against the bulkhead, looking not at Zemma or Don but the deck. "She hasn't even asked for my forgiveness."

Zemma caught her breath. That was totally unexpected. She had no refute for it. Hell, she hadn't even thought about it. The baby she'd lost wasn't solely her possession. She hadn't realized it meant anything to him. Maybe she should have, but she'd never seen it, and never could have guessed. Zemma felt tears want to come. She commanded them away.

"She didn't know," Zemma could only whisper to Riddick, Don's presence all but forgotten. "You weren't going to tell me. Does she know, even now?" She tried not to let any bitterness creep into her voice. He'd had no right to keep it from her. She'd had to figure it out on her own. She'd had to deal with it on her own. She felt nauseous.

Tiger, Tiger, burning bright… what's behind that yellow light?

Zemma pulled herself up as tall as she could. She commanded away the sickening vision that was creeping up from her dark subconscious. She spoke with the imperious authority she'd used on Vaako, "Bring her back, Riddick."

Bring her back.

Bring her back.

Zemma turned away from them, the shaking inside threatening to work its way out.

Riddick watched her go. Don watched Riddick. They didn't speak for some minutes, each examining their own motivations.

"Where is she?" Don came to his conclusion first. "I let her go. I shouldn't have. I'll fix that. It's my job." He looked past Riddick, down the dark hall where Zemma had quietly fled.

"She's your job." He grasped Riddick's shoulder at arm's length, looked him hard in the eye, then nodded briefly as if understanding had been reached.

"Red's." Riddick drew out the word slowly, quietly, as if he might take it back, might take the initiative, rather than handing it off to his Second.

"I'll find it." Don turned smartly, forgoing the urge to salute. "Be ready to lift. She'll probably be making a lot of noise." Don strode towards the door.

Riddick looked back down the dark hall. He cracked his neck and rolled his shoulders.

Would have been easier to deal with Jack right now.

Jack enjoyed her power. She enjoyed the game. She played well, and she played to win. She didn't enjoy the men. They would have her body but her mind was still her own. She retreated into it when it was time, and would rake in the money afterwards. The money would make up for it.

She danced well in her costume. She'd played this bit before, she knew what she was selling. She enjoyed seeing herself, completely unrecognizable, rebroadcast on all the big screens. She walked confidently in the dark room, watching the men who watched her, deciding which would net her the best profit in the least amount of time. She was only a few hours into her shift and she'd made her nut. Everything now was profit.

Some of the other girls were already jealous. Jack didn't care. She simply had the advantage of a very specialized clientele. She would find herself a sympathetic shoulder to lay her head on later. She had her eye on the busty little brunette…

Red was walking the floor as well, keeping an eye on her new prize. Jack was sure to always be as deferential and submissive as possible around the boss. THAT might be a very comfortable shoulder to lie down with if she played her cards right. Sometimes just staying below the radar was less important than getting in the right bed.

Red looked at her palm-com when it buzzed and made a beeline to Jack.

"Another client," the boss beamed her cobra smile. "You're doing well."

Jack dropped her eyes, "Thank You, Ma'am," she responded in character.

"I want you to see me tonight after your shift. Playroom, now."

Jack grinned but kept it to herself. She nodded once and headed for the stairs. She'd spent most of the night in and out of the Playroom.

It was dark in the room this time. At first she thought the client must have made a reservation and not arrived yet. So when a hand landed firmly on her arm, Jack screamed a little. It was in character so she wasn't embarrassed, she just went on playing her part.

"Who's there?" She spoke in a whispered falsetto.

"Not your 'Daddy'," Don whispered back.

Jack froze. He already had a hold of her, if she couldn't reach the panic button all she had to do was call out the safe-word and the house bouncer would be here in seconds. She kept her calm. She was in her element now, she knew she had the advantage. He couldn't remove her, he wouldn't dare hurt her, she was okay.

"Ohhh, I dunno," she purred. "You might like it."

Wait… wait and watch… take advantage of 'whatever.' It was practically her mantra. It kept her composed during the times she wasn't in command of her situation. Control would come when the advantage was hers. She could wait for it.

"If you're done, it's time to go." Don ignored Jack innuendo, as well as her body rubbing against him.

"But, we just started…" Jack twisted in Don grip to face him, ignoring the pain it caused. She curled her free arm behind his neck and ground her hips against him. "You've already paid for an hour…"

Don's free hand covered her whole face. He pushed her to the ground in disgust.

Jack laughed. She had power over him here.

"Zemma wants you to come back." He said it so flatly, with so much coldness, that Jack knew it wasn't a lie.

For two seconds she felt her determination slip. She'd half expected Riddick to find her. She knew she would handle him if he did. She never anticipated Don. She didn't expect Zemma to send him.

"Why?"

Don settled with his back against the door. "I don't know." He sounded tired, irritated.

"Well, that's just not good enough," she sneered from the floor. Jack could tell he didn't want to succeed. She didn't think it would take much to encourage him to leave without her. "You just come down here because she said so?"

Jack sensed more than saw Don hunch down to her level, as if he might appeal to her. She heard him sigh deeply in the darkness. "Just tell me how it's gonna be, girl. Easy or hard? I don't care which…" He barked a quiet little laugh. "That's not true. I really want this to go hard. The harder the better."

Jack could hear the cold, uncompromising truth in that too. He didn't like her, didn't want her, but he was here to bring her back. For Zemma? It didn't matter. These places were fortresses. Jack didn't need to leave if she didn't want to. She didn't think too hard about the fact that she might not be able to leave even if she did want to.

"All I have to do is say one word and you'll be up to your armpits in mindless muscle." Jack wasn't bluffing.

"That won't be boring." Don wasn't bluffing either. Jack could hear the smile in his voice. She was starting to get nervous. This guy was a lot like Riddick, tall and powerfully built, even for an old man. She pictured the mayhem Riddick could create amongst mere mortals. She pictured Don's black soulless eyes.

Don might enjoy murder even more than Riddick.

"I can't leave." It was a simple reality. She'd sold her soul, and while her nightly nut was already made, she was a long way off from buying it back. These places didn't like giving up easy money. That's all she was to them, easy money.

Zemma wanted her back?

"Does that mean I don't have to worry about you resisting?" He sounded almost disappointed.

"I don't matter," Jack muttered. She thought she hid the painful certainty of that in her own heart with mockery. She didn't matter here. She only mattered to certain people, and then not really. Just her DNA mattered, not herself. She thought she'd hidden that conviction in dark sarcasm; she would have been surprised to know Don heard her plainly, and felt a momentary pang of sympathy for the girl.

"Just follow me out. Don't stop, but don't run. Head straight for the ship, when we get clear. I'll be right behind you." His voice was calm, no-nonsense, and almost kind. She felt his hand on her arm again, but this time he was pulling her up. "Let's go."

Jack let herself be led downstairs.

Red wandered little circles in the middle of the large room, watching her patrons and her girls simultaneously, tapping away on her little palm-com, and tallying her profits. She raised an eyebrow at Jack's descent, but seemed not to be paying attention to Don walking sedately towards the door. Jack smiled and nodded, as if all were well, a fast trick meant more return.

Don walked towards the door, not looking back. Jack sauntered past the bar, not watching his back, and trying not to look around suspiciously. She needed to be close enough to make the break when he created a hole… or to not look like a part of the fray if he failed to.

Don stopped at the inside of the door, turned slightly and made eye contact with Jack momentarily before leaning into the doorman as if to ask a question. The attack was swift and silent, Don clipped the bulky man under the chin and eased the now unconscious man back onto his stool. No one noticed… except Red; her eyes flew wide and her fingers tapped furiously.

Jack made her break for it. Bodyguards would be converging in seconds, she needed to be way the fuck gone before them. She bolted just as Don pushed open the door, dodged under the arm of the doorman outside, and ran hard. She heard Don and the doorman clash but didn't look back to see the results, she headed for the ramp up.

Before a minute had passed Don caught up with her. He grabbed her arm to slow her to a walk. He evidenced no obvious harm, but his normally dour countenance was replaced with a nearly delighted glint in his eye and a grim smile.

"Don't run. But keep up, or I'll carry you," he said as he strode purposefully towards the dock.

"Won't they follow us?" Jack looked back nervously.

"We can only hope," he turned a toothy smile her way.

Yes, Don might enjoy murder even more than Riddick.