30. …Again

The women lay on their backs, staring at the cargo hold ceiling. Jack had been amazingly articulate when she wanted to get her point across. Zemma felt all the anguish and fear Jack kept bottled up inside, and a great deal of respect for the young woman's fortitude. And, a great deal of concern about this Hypatia. She couldn't really be following Jack, could she?

Riddick would know.

"Jack, how can she keep finding you?"

"I dunno." Bleak tone, resignation.

"Is it something you're…."

"I don't KNOW."

Zemma kept her eyes on the bulkhead above her, but reached out for Jack's hand again. She didn't want to push the girl away now that Jack opened up so much to her. But this was sounding like a problem that needed to be dealt with. Perhaps the very problem Riddick intended to deal with when they started this trip. It was time to ask him straight out. Zemma squeezed Jack's hand, but it was her own discomfort she was seeking strength for. Jack was never a comfortable topic between her and Riddick.

"I have to go," Jack sounded desolate, rather than relieved to have unburdened her fears.

Zemma hauled herself up, feeling too heavy even in the lighter grav of the cargo deck. She'd been pushing herself too hard, and Riddick was going to notice. At least this conversation might distract him from that. She smirked and Jack surprised her by noticing; she didn't realize how much emotion she was showing outwardly.

"What's funny?"

"Riddick's going be pissed that I went running with you… but maybe your Hypatia will keep his attention diverted from that." Zemma looked at Jack carefully, to see what reaction she'd have to the idea of Zemma talking to Riddick about Jack's past. Jack only shrugged.

"He kinda knows some of it. He told me to tell him if I saw her again."

Zemma nodded. But she doubted Riddick would wait to find out if this Hypatia was tracking their Jack… he never did anything without a purpose… including organizing ship watches and sensor scans. Damn it. He could have told her what was up.

Nature of the beast.

Jack started off towards her training session with Don. Zemma wanted to say something encouraging to her but simply lacked the words or experience to say the right thing to her friend.

She headed for her cabin to get changed for her watch. Riddick had already slept the four hours he typically got when in bed by himself, and gotten back up for the day. The conversation would have to wait till she finished her duties. Zemma hurried, she didn't want Don regulating her back to the status of student. She had no doubt he would treat her no differently than Jack if she gave him reason, like being late.

She arrived in plenty of time and Don was damn near cordial.

Riddick didn't show up at his usual hour to keep her company, so Zemma had to stew by herself.

He'd been so sweet and considerate while she was sick, and a stickler about her practicing Furyan on the reader Don provided for Riddick. But at the same time, he'd become a bit distant again as she got better… treating her fragilely, again. That made her crazy.

It made her feel jealous of Jack, again.

Alone, on the bridge deck, the voice in her head had center stage.

…Everything's about Jack…

It's not like that.

Everything changed when she showed up.

Not her fault.

Now he's avoiding you, again.

Something's on his mind.

Something, that's not you.

Hypatia, she's a problem to be solved.

And you aren't a part of the solution.

He never does anything without reason.

Zemma sighed, and started cycling through the available cameras to see if anyone was awake to keep her company. Jack and Don should have finished their sparring hours ago. Jack usually headed off on her own after that. Zemma understood that. She kind of envied Jack's ability to do that, now that Zemma couldn't.

Not surprisingly she couldn't see Jack anywhere, but she was surprised to discover a new working camera, and found Riddick and Don in the cargo hold. They appeared to be arguing, but short of keying open the com, she couldn't hear them. Her finger hovered over the switch.

If you're ever going to find out what they're up to… the voice nagged at her.

Zemma turned away. She didn't want to spy; she wanted to be included.

She called up the little program she'd been using to teach Jack higher math, and created more homework for the girl based on her wrong answers. It killed an hour.

Still, no Riddick. She shuffled through the cameras, again. No Jack, or Don, either. She wasn't use to being uncomfortable with being alone anymore. She keyed open the com unit in the cargo hold, to see if maybe they were just out of sight.

"…She's pushing herself too hard as it is," Riddick was saying.

"Nothing wrong with how fast she recovered," Don answered him.

"She started working out again, as soon as she could walk without puking her guts up." Riddick sounded a little exasperated, and irritated. "She's getting too thin."

Sneak! He HAD read her journal.

"Rations will do that," Don sounded exasperated.

Zemma snorted. No kidding. She thought she'd been pleasantly rounded in all the places a woman should be, but a steady diet of rations these past weeks had put off her love of eating, she hoped not permanently. She thought, lately, that she'd started taking on Jack's angular silhouette.

"That's why there's a galley. I can't believe none of you can cook."

"Who knew YOU could cook?" Zemma could picture Riddick's half smile, and tilt of his head as he said this. He's trying to distract from the topic at hand, she realized.

"No excuse for not telling her what we're doing, and that I need to see her."

"She went running with Jack. She needs at least one quiet night to recover…maybe she'll take a nap up there." Zemma recognized Riddick's tone of voice: he was sidestepping Don.

Don barked a short, un-amused laugh. "Our Zemma? Nap on duty? She's a better soldier than that."

"She isn't s soldier!" Riddick's words were quiet, but sharp, filled with irritation. "She doesn't need to be."

"So what's your excuse for not telling Jack? You told me to train her- I only train soldiers. Did you expect something else?"

"Jack's already a killer."

"So is Zemma. So are we all. If you aren't a predator, then you're prey… and dead."

Riddick answered this with silence.

Zemma's mind whirled with the implications of this bit of conversation. Is that why he wanted you to stop training with Jaron? He's been pretty reticent about working with you.

Just a series of unfortunate circumstances, Zemma thought back to the voice.

He doesn't want you to be a killer- like him, like Jack. Remember?

"I don't like your attitude, Riddick, Sir. A soldier doesn't need to know why he's been given a command, but he'll perform better if he does." Don sounded irate. "We don't need a hero, we need a leader."

"Then follow your orders, soldier," Riddick menaced. He made 'soldier' sound like a curse. His voice seemed closer, though she still couldn't see either man on the lone camera.

Zemma realized suddenly that she was, after all, eavesdropping. She snapped off the com before they came close enough to the wall unit to notice the com light was on. She didn't want to hear any more. Riddick's attitude and venom made her angry. Don didn't deserve it. Jack didn't deserve it. She didn't deserve it.

Zemma opened another personal program to divert herself. She started setting up a few distractions for Jack's watch: a few false reds to break up the monotony of all the greens.

Her mind kept going back to Don and Riddick. She still wasn't sure what they were up to, what they were looking for. She opened the ship's log that Don had been keeping since he arrived. What she found surprised her. That, and what Jack had told her, left only one possible conclusion.

Zemma had spent some solitary time exploring the ship and it's contents the first weeks on board, when there had been so much tension between them. She knew Riddick hadn't left or brought anything useful for ship's defenses, but that didn't mean they were defenseless. She closed the log and opened up ship's schematics. She had an idea.

A Monger idea.

Riddick arrived on time for his watch, not a moment sooner. He seemed brusque and edgy. Zemma debated broaching the subject of Jack. She tapped the log with one fingernail several times, slowly. Riddick glanced quickly from the corner of his eye and away again, never losing his composure. He never did. That damned confidence of his.

"Sensor spike? Course changes? What's behind us, Riddick?" Zemma kept her voice quiet.

"Probably just Jack's imagination in overdrive."

Apparently, Jack's imagination had a very big energy signature, she thought acerbically. Don had set up some security protocols before they left the last system, just paranoia habitualized, and caught an anomaly. Training Jack, and Zemma for that matter, had simply been a means to an end. Course changes, radiation scans, high-resolution sensors pointed at just the right angle… no mistake, there was something following them, no matter how implausible that was.

The oversized energy signature meant fast, and well armed. It could mean military; someone who recognized the Monger frigate for what it was and felt strongly enough about that to investigate. Or even something as mundane as a merc with the means to chase down the merchant captain who looked so improbably like Richard B. Riddick, gambling on a payday on top of the pirated salvage of their ship and cargo.

But what if Jack wasn't wrong about seeing Hypatia?

"There's something more here, Riddick, and you're going to have to tell me what. I don't like not knowing what's going on." Zemma let her voice carry over just how seriously she felt about this topic. She hated being left out.

"There's nothing to know."

"As much fun as it is to log six hours of 'all green', don't you think Jack and I could have handled knowing why we were doing it?" Zemma kept her voice and emotions in check.

The very control and coolness of her words caught Riddick's attention more than sarcasm or anger would have. "You've been sick," he shrugged a little and wouldn't look at her. "Go to bed, you look tired."

"Damn it, Riddick. I managed to survive a long time without your protection. Jack, too, for that matter. She's young, but she isn't stupid. 'Don't keep anything from me,' you told me. Explain to me why that doesn't work both ways."

Zemma saw the scarcest of emotions cross Riddick's features very briefly: guilt, and anger. She took a deep breath and tried to let the irony of the moment seep into her voice. "I'm starting to get why Jack is always so pissed at you." She tried to keep it light, to elicit something from him other than his stubbornness.

"Go to bed." It was no longer a request, but a demand. "I'll take care of everything."

Zemma kept her mouth clamped shut to keep the voice in her head from saying something that would worsen, rather than diffuse, the situation. When she still didn't move, Riddick turned slowly to look at her, his eyes shining in the dark like her own. They stared at each other, stubbornness and pride clouding the air between them.

The voice found it's way out.

"You'll take care of everything? You, by yourself?" Zemma ground her teeth closed, but the inner voice wasn't done. "Who designated you sole caretaker of universe at large?"

Riddick's face, already stony, turned cold as he turned away from her. Zemma felt a sudden stab of angst. This wasn't how she had wanted this conversation to go. She reached out to touch his shoulder when he spoke again.

"Imam did. Carolyn did… Your father did."

Zemma's fingers curled into a ball. Her heart, or her stomach, balled up too. His voice carried so much torment, and so much impatience.

Damn it. Damn it. Damn it. Would she have to start over winning his respect and acceptance every time she had a minor setback? Yes, she understood Jack quite well, right now. She wanted to say something, anything, that would bridge the distance that was so suddenly created between them. She simply lacked the words and experience to say the right thing.

What she wanted was to tell him how much she loved him, even now; that he could trust her. She knew she could only expect more silence. She couldn't bear that. It would be bad enough to go to bed alone again tonight. She un-balled her fist and reach out again, to touch him lightly on the shoulder, an apology on her lips, though she wasn't completely sure what she'd actually done wrong. She could see his face reflected on the screen before him, could see her hand there too…

He turned suddenly away from her, seemingly engrossed in another row of green lights and digital read-outs. There was nothing changed, except that he was slightly out of her reach.

Zemma fled from the presence of her lover to the solitude of the ship. Again.

The next day was especially tense to Zemma. Riddick was avoiding her, and Don for that matter. Don seemed more irritable, even, than usual. And Jack, who certainly must have picked up on everyone's emotions, and quite possibly the log clues as well, became reserved and edgy around them all: a leery cat with a nervous tick in her tail.

On top of this, Don attacked Jack without warning. The first time, he simply walked up to her and said "Remember yesterday I told you to be on guard every moment of every day?"

"Sure" Jack said in a surly tone.

He hit her, closed fist, in the midsection, doubling her over in a fit of dry heaves. "Pitiful" he said as he walked away.

Zemma sighed. Was it was a Furyan trait, or just a soldier's response to the unbearable tension of an unsolvable problem? Jack's training had just been elevated to the lesson of 'Now.'