AN: A longer than normal chapter for you all. This concludes Dark Fury. I've got some twists and turns in store for you all before we head back into Canon territorty. Thanks for the reviews.

Are You Scared of the Dark?

The monstrous mutant was behind them. That was the single concern on the ex-ranger's mind at this precise moment. If he couldn't kill it somehow it would definitely take his and Jack's lives. The plan that formed in his mind was crude, dangerous, and self-sacrificing. Draw it away from his friends, Abu and Carolyn, so that they could get the injured woman, Lujjan, to safety. He wasn't sure how far they'd need to go to actually do that, but he was not going to have the blood of another innocent on his hands because he hadn't given enough effort to saving her. It was odd, in a disjointed way, that the killer in him could fully agree with the strengthening human side about the value of something so intangible as innocence. Not his own, mind you. Not even Jack's for that matter. But the innocence of an adult that existed as a – real – person, precious all the more for it's rarity in this cold, impersonal universe spinning around him on what seemed to be the pinpoint of his actions and decisions.

It would have shocked him had he stopped and really thought about it. Lujjan was one of the few that his gut reacted to with a burning desire to set free and out of danger. She was like a butterfly held inside a glass jar. Her worldview was as alien to him as Chillingsworth's was, true enough, but she looked at him with trust in the same manner that usually only children managed. That was the crux of the matter, right there. Without knowing him, seeing he could kill, his gruff and deadly manner fully showing, she still trusted. It made him want to growl. Instead, Riddick made a deep gash in his arm and applied pressure to regulate the flow. He heard his mate as she looked back one last time at the sheltered spot where the others hid. The large man set his jaw and began to move off into the darkness ahead of him. Slowly, the young woman turned and nearly silent steps indicated that she was following.

There was something final in leaving the three behind that Jackie could not shake. An ache settled into her chest that was cold and heavy. She knew that this was the only chance the others had. Riddick would not have taken the risk of leaving them behind if he'd seen any other way to get them out of this. Once again, her trust allowed her to place faith in him, not needing to ask before hand what exactly they were going to do. She just wished that the leaden feeling would go away. Jackie followed her mate's lead careful not to slip in the blood trail he was making. She was unsure of how many steps they took, how many frantic heartbeats passed, as they put distance between themselves and those they protected. Actually all she had attention for was the consistent line of copperish wetness forming as they moved. A trail of blood, Riddick's blood, for some end that she was sure would not be pleasant.

They reached a blind, no not a blind, the blind. Full stop. There was no more room to run. They reached the farthest point that they could on this level that was not in cold space beyond the metal walls. They would make a stand here and live or they would die. Somehow, it was so simple. The ship's hull curved about fifteen steps ahead of her, lined with a large pipe near the floor and several smaller ones just above her head. The light here came off a warning sign that stated "no open flames" with a stark yellow cast. She noted that the path was long enough to spare their friends from having to witness anything, but that they would hear the end of the battle. No way really that they couldn't. At her side, the large man was considering his options, scanning everything. His hand on his arm squeezing down on his self inflicted wound to staunch the bleeding for the moment. She caught her breath, noticing the unmistakable odor of methane faintly in the air.

The sounds of the mercs were getting louder, disjointed boots ringing against the metal floor. Riddick was really less then concerned about the four fake-badges behind them. He could feel the wincing of the woman to his side with each echo, though. There, overhead, was a duct of some sort, round and smooth. It looked to be roomy enough to hide in but narrow enough to climb. He took a step forward; silent in spite the thick prison boots he wore. The duct was at a slight angle. It was a quick calculation later that Riddick pulled off his shirt. Blood welled up in a heady bead; slowly pushing past the surface tension that held it in place before running thickly down his arm in the short span the pressure was off the wound. For a second he curled the black cloth around his arm and froze with the sheer risk he was taking. Thud, thud, thud… It was difficult to tell which was the boots on the hull and which was his heart. They really didn't have time for this. He wiped the tank down his arm, soaking it with his blood before letting it fall to the floor. "Jackie--"

She moved up to his side. This, then, was the moment of truth. How much would she give to him? The shiv in his had flashed with a yellowed glint. He took her arm. The white undershirt sleeve was pushed up out of the way, letting the cool air ghost over her skin. She felt the blade press her flesh, then there was searing pain as her skin gave way under the razor sharpness of it. She gritted her teeth, but did not flinch. The grip on her arm was bruising in its intensity. She watched the dark liquid swelling up along the cut, and Riddick seemed to understand the detached air that stole over her. For a suspended moment, he let her stare, still and quiet, at the life giving syrupy redness swelling on her arm. The cut was straight, deep, and true. Then their hearts began beating again and the moment was past. He tipped her arm toward the floor and the blood ran down onto the already damp black tank. 'Pity,' she thought, 'I rather liked the feel of that fabric.' She noticed that his blood was still dripping too, and he'd already given much more of it than she had. The stillness that shrouded them served only to remind that there was a steep shortage of time in which to complete the snare being set, as both the clanging of the mercs' boots and the echoing roar of the mutant bounced around the curved space they found themselves in.

Seconds later she started out of the meditative state she'd slipped into when Riddick's voice rumbled, "Shred you sleeve and tie this up. Mine too." He'd never let go of her arm, although she hadn't really noticed his grip once the blood began to flow. Something about his manner kept her from wondering too much about how, one-handed, she was going to cut and tear her sleeve into strips to carry out the order. She set the her shiv against the fabric of her right sleeve, bent down to catch the cotton with her teeth, and tore almost like she'd done this as an everyday thing. Amazing what one could do when there was no time to doubt one's skill. The cleaner of her two sleeves now in tatters, she felt him take the over binding the wound off. She grunted as he cinched her arm tight. He nodded as she returned the favor. "On my back," that deep voice rumbled.

How could she resist? Jackie felt slightly odd as she put her arms around his shoulders and her legs around his waist. But she was surrounded by his scent, peace and assurance filled her being even as he reached up and pulled them both into the duct. She rubbed her cheek over the back of his head as the world shrunk down to his shifting muscles, warm skin, and the curved metal of the tube he was climbing. Even with the danger and worry, Riddick felt himself purr slightly from the nuzzle. Somehow she knew what he needed to still his fears. He felt her heart beating strong but slow against his back, her breath puffed warmly on his scalp, the pressure of her body comfortable against him. He could almost forget the mercs and the mutant that threatened them. Almost, but not quite. His eyes located a branch that was fairly level. He turned around and backed Jack into it. "Wait here," he whispered in her ear.

He then slipped into his own meditative state. He needed to separate out the noises and make sense of them to know what was approaching. Clunk, thud – Clunk, thud – 'Cyborg' his mind supplied. Thud, thud, thud, thud – faster, lighter, and smoother – 'female' came the assessment. Slap-thud, slap-thud, slap-thud, slap-thud – slightly graceful, heavy – 'green recruit, first mission, runs like his boots are too big' wry twist to his lips at the thought. Thump, thump, thump, thump – 'natural rubber soled boots, quiet runner, trained, knows his shit…' There was danger. Perhaps the only one of the mercs chasing them with any brains. He nearly jerked out of the meditation. 'Mutant, what can I discern about the fucking mutant?' he scolded internally, 'What, Old Man, you going soft?' He refocused his attention.

Whine-shriek-groan-CHASH, Whine-shriek-groan-CHASH, Whine-shriek-groan-CHASH, Whine-shriek-groan-CHASH… 'Big – and um…' his mind responded. That did not help. He took a deep slow breath. Whine-shriek-wheeze-groan-CHASH, Whine-shriek-groan-CHASH, Whine-shriek-wheeze-groan-CHASH, Whine-shriek-groan-CHASH… 'Hydraulics need tuning… yep, still big.' Hell, he'd have to see the thing to figure out its weak spot. Whine-Screeezzzzhhhhh-groan-CHASH, Whine-shriek-groan-CHASH, Whine-Screeezzzzhhhhh-groan-CHASH, Whine-shriek-groan-CHASH… 'Metal legs, large pad for balance. Hydraulics must be hooked directly into the movement centers. Risky 'goll practice. Now I wonder if they left it unshielded?' Of course, it the monster was as large as it sounded very few would get past its business end to check that now would they? He concluded that it was as good a shot as any other and seeing as he was above it already...

OoOoOoOoOoO

Toombs was getting slightly annoyed. The blood trail seemed to mock him. His shit-for-brains co-workers hadn't even noticed it. And there was no sign of the runners. How the hell did they loose three, eh --five-- fucking people? Well, he thought he'd heard five but he knew there were three for sure. He'd seen two women and Riddick with his own eyes. Still, the original assessment was for five and he'd never been wrong before. He shut off the train wreck of thoughts and returned to the issue at hand. No sign of the runners. Mentioning it to 'Commander Harley' wouldn't solve shit. And speaking of shit… weren't they near the waste recycling area? Yep, there was the lovely smell of methane. This was a dead end. So, either one of two things had happened. They ran past the runners who were hiding behind them or this was a trap. And no one with a bounty as high as Riddick's could be stupid. He slowed his steps, watching the three ahead of him stab into the twilight with their lights. He shut his off. His eyes needed to adjust to the native illumination, because if Riddick was at the end of the trail, being blind because his light got knocked out was not an option.

'Commander' Harley noticed the abrupt silence of Toombs' rubber-soled boots behind her. She saw his light cut off as he came up rejoined them. That was curious, she noted. He kept pace easily enough, but she could discern little sound from him. Maybe he knew something of value after all? She cut her light and glanced over at the scruffy, skinny man. His face was a study in intense concentration. His body moved fluidly and noiselessly forward. She suddenly regretted how she'd treated him. She watched his head bob down and found herself looking at the floor. A dark line glistened in the dim yellow glow from the warning sign ahead. What the fuck? Was that blood? That had to be the source of his sudden caution. Had they wounded one of the runners? Harley's pale hair caught the reflected light and gleamed in the darkness as she ordered, "Sweep it." Her two fellows slowly spread out, providing more lighted cover. Toombs glanced over at her with an expression that clearly showed his regard for the two with their lights on. She raised a brow at him, coming to a stop as he did. "What is it, Toombs?" she whispered.

"Fuckin' greens are gonna get us killed, Commander. You got no idea what you're dealing with. You think we wounded one of them?" He leaned in close and spoke in her ear, "No, that there is a self-inflicted bleeder. Any idea as to why?" Harley pulled back from his warm, coarse breath grating over her earlobe. She met his eyes and shook her head. He made a scoffing sound. Somehow she had the feeling that she'd just failed a really large exam. The kind of test that altered lives. She stood blinking at him as he resumed his intense scrutiny of the twilight in front of them.

"Some kinda clue -" she started to say.

Only to be cut off with, "I got something," from the dark-haired green.

She pushed Toombs and his puzzles out of her mind. "Check it out," her husky voice ordered. Toombs snorted.

The black-haired merc moved to follow orders. He could see something dark on the floor. He crouched down. Toombs watched him. "What the --" He reached out toward the splotch in the dark and connected with cloth. Wet cloth. Copper assaulted his nose. Bloody cloth?

Toombs sprinted forward. They were right in the middle of a carefully laid trap. And the tank now slowly lifting off the floor under the fingers of 'cutie' was the piece of the mystery he'd been missing. It wasn't a trap for them. It was a trap for the 'goll mutant. "Don't touch that!" As he screamed his warning the other fellow dropped the blood filled cloth in alarm. Another roar ripped through the metal passage as if in challenge. He turned back, glanced toward the approaching monster then over at the cyborg.

Suddenly, Harley 'got' it. The blood trail, the 'bleeder' reference, the clothing soaked in what had to be even more blood. The 'golls used blood for tracking… They were between the mutant and it's prey. "Oh, shit!" she screamed in alarm. Dead-end, indeed. It truly was, wasn't it? She looked at Toombs who was casting about for a spot that might give them a fighting chance. Who was she kidding? The only way for the three that had not touched the blood to make it out of this was to throw the stupid one in front of the monster and run like hell. And even then it was no guarantee. Shit. She was not going to let it eat one of her men. She readied her gun and kissed her ass goodbye. Yep, she failed that exam all right.

Toombs backed up. He knew this was suicide. He'd seen the beast, long ago, and knew that their bullets would just tickle it. The other two readied their guns. Toombs backed up until he was about 3 steps from the wall. The other three had their attention riveted on the source of their mutual panic. The thing roared at them. It was huge. Waves of flesh juggled over the metal plates and fittings that served to connect the parts of it together. The mouth looked normal enough at the moment, but he doubted that it was really all that nice of a creature. He noted at the other 3 mercs begun firing at will. Small spots of off colored liquid appeared on the areas that had no plating. Maybe the bullets had an impact after all? They seemed to actually piss it off. Suddenly the monster's mouth exploded forward in a mass of tentacles, grabbing 'Cutie' and swallowing him down in one piece. That was something he'd not known about… 'Hell to this. I'm outta here,' Toombs thought as he scanned for an escape route. The sewage pipe. The only way. 'I'll take it,' he mentally said, 'Well, nice knowing you all.' He blasted open hole in the lower large pipe and dove in.

Harley didn't even feel a thing as the mutant ate her. Well, she felt the panic from being picked up off the floor, but her back snapped before she entered the creature's gullet. The mutant then moved for the pipe, knocking the cyborg down and stepping on him. The weight alone was enough to put the blonde man's lights out forever.

OoOoOoOoOoO

Running feet pounded the metal below them. Jackie felt woozy and light-headed now that Riddick was below her suspended under his own tense power. A roar shuddered through the ship in the distance. Jackie gripped the opening tighter, 'Keep it together, Jack. Please, keep it together…' as vibrations of something heavy stomping along the blood trail made the metal under Jackie's fingers shiver like Jell-O. The vibrations were becoming constant and the next roar was very, very close. She didn't dare look down. Then the flashes of light burst bright enough for her to see even with her eyes closed. Gunfire. The noise confirmed it. There was slurping, crunching of bone, nasty noises that had to be the thing below them finishing off the mercs. Sounds of death reached her ears as a horrific combination of twisted flesh and mechanical know-how consumed the bodies. There was another shudder as the mutant stepped forward. A pause… Then she heard the monster chomp down on steel. The screech of the metal in the monster's teeth ripped through her soul.

Riddick watched the entire battle as best as he could see it. The tracer shots scored their paths into his overly sensitive retinas, but he refused to look away. The mutant made quick work of the mercs. So quick that he wasn't sure if two or three of them had been consumed. How many was a slightly mute point, though, as the monster moved forward and took a bite of the metallic pipe against the wall. 'Must've needed something to wash them down with,' he thought with a smirk. It was at that point that the creature was in the perfect spot for the attack. His mind went clear as crystal. His body was ready and coiled for action. Just as he hoped, the top area of the skull was flickering with lights, marking a weak spot that he could exploit. There was a lack of defensive plates on the top of the mutant, likely because it already pushed the limits of its hydraulic systems. Any additional weight and it would simply stop moving. Riddick launched himself at the thing with his shiv acting like a deadly claw, slicing into the creature's sensitive and weak areas with single-minded vengeance. He didn't care if he killed it or if he merely paralyzed it. He rode the creature as the legs gave way both natural and mechanical under the sheer bulk of the body. After the shock waves of noise ended he sat still for a moment to determine if the mutant was still a threat. He felt a faint pulse that faded leaving the flesh under him cooling. Once the target was reduced to a heap of meat he stood up. "Jackie?"

She felt a bit sick, and it showed in her voice as she answered, "Yeah?"

The weakness of her voice gave him pause. He moved so he could see her leaning forward. He reached up toward her, "Jump." She must have had her reliance still fully placed on him even with the way she felt as she let go of the edge and slid down into his arms. He curled them around her for a moment. There was a slight delay before her arms snaked up around his neck and squeezed into a hug. He tightened his own grip before letting her go. She settled down onto the soft rubbery mound beneath their feet. An odor of burnt skin, grease, and raw sewage wafted over them. Jackie gave Riddick a look that read 'gross' and clambered to the floor. He had to agree. The combination was not pleasant. He gave her a moment to steady herself then followed her down. He was rather glad to have survived that one, truth be told. He stood for a second just looking at the size and bulk of flesh and metal. Riddick shook his head. What madness prompted 'golls to make such monsters? Still pondering that question he walked over to his shirt and looked at it. He didn't even want to touch it; "I'm not putting that back on."

"Ugh, please don't," her face took on a pale greenish shade for a moment. Jackie looked around and spotted a dead Merc. The only other body to be seen was broad shouldered, and nicely built. If it had been pants or boots Riddick needed though, he'd be fresh out of luck as the metallic foot of the mutant had flattened and shattered the lower half of it. The chest and shoulders were unmarred, and the blonde cyborg looked to be about the same size, if not slightly larger. In any case, a dead man's tank was far better than a bloody one. "Here. This is better." Riddick lifted the man's tank and slipped into it. "Flight deck?"

The question made Riddick pause. If they just high-tailed it off this ship what would happen? Likely they would be tracked and followed under Chillingsworth's orders. A 'goll with a bone to gnaw never let go. And he'd royally pissed her off. So they had to disable this boat so that it couldn't pursue them. Smirking, he looked at Jackie, his silver eyes dancing in merriment. "Wouldn't you like to inflict some of your own brand of revenge, Jack?" She gave him an odd look, having never seen him in this mood before. He stifled his laugher, "Main computer?"

He was asking her what she wanted to do. She took a breath and patted the pocket 'puter that she'd been fiddling with, writing code to pass the time that she was pretty sure would produce error after error in any computer it was set loose in. It was perfect. An evil grin spread over her face, "Lead on." Riddick picked up the Merc's gun and blasted them a path. It was the quickest, safest route. Jackie watched him eliminate walls; he was no stranger to this. The path led them to the back of the room. Jackie pulled out the pocket 'puter and linked up to the main data core. Should she spare them at all? Should she leave anything alone? She looked over at him with a question, "How fucked up do you want her?"

"How fucked up can you make her?" He cocked his eyebrow at her, the large gun sitting casually across one arm.

"I can take out pretty much everything…" She looked at him. Maybe not life support, gravity, and the lights she figured. He just watched in silence. "Yeah, okay." Jackie set to work. She dumped a number of her created threads of data into the ship's computer targeting its basic command functions for the engines, scanners, and communications. She cracked into the memory core and locked it into the merc guild's database. She wanted to cackle with glee. Instead she mimicked his smirk and said, "All done. Can we go now?"

He trusted her skills. His smirk morphed into a genuine smile as he tilted his head and reached for her. "Come on. Let's get to the flight deck." She tucked herself into his side, his arm around her shoulders, as they headed out the main door into a very empty corridor.

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

The climb had been a long one. The first ladder opened onto a lower service level filled with parts and crates. They inched through the resulting maze only to face several other ladders. They had to be nearly there. It had been quiet, and Abu figured that the silence was due to the fact that the trackers were after Riddick and Jack not them. He put his hand on the hatch and turned the latch. The panel in the floor moved smoothly aside. His eyes scanned the scene as he carefully peered out. Ships scattered about the launch area, hoses snaking across the metallic floor, and not a soul in sight. He looked down at Lujjan and Carolyn, mustering up a smile. They had reached the flight deck. He let out a sigh of relief, but did not throw caution to the wind. He again carefully raised his head, looking once more to be sure before placing his hands on the floor and raising himself with a push. He did not see the black boots standing directly behind him head however. So with it appearing that the coast was clear he looked back down and smiled again. Junner waited, allowing the dark skinned man to pull himself up and clear of the hatch before knocking him out with the stock of his gun. Abu was not sure what hit him and didn't even cry out as he crumpled to the floor.

Lujjan had no clue that they were moving into a trap. She noted that Imam was clear and reached for the next rung to find a gloved hand grabbing her wrist. The grip hauled her out and she felt a sharp pain before knowing nothing more. Junner swiftly dumped her on the floor next to the Imam. He returned to his fishing. Fry narrowed her eyes and backed down a bit but was too slow to avoid the strong grip that circled her throat and lifted her out of the service hatch. "Look at what we have here." Junner sounded quite smug but angered. He expected that the other two would be behind the docking pilot, but a glance showed that the stairwell was empty. His anger upped a notch, "Where are they?"

Choking, Carolyn flipped the man off before landing two fairly strong punches right in his face. She even managed a swift kick to the groin. In hindsight, the kick might have been a bad idea, because the end result was that he went from slightly-pissed-off-but-curious to deadly.

With a grunt Junner slammed the docking pilot back against a hard surface began to squeeze the life out of her. He'd take pleasure in this rather hands on approach, never mind that she'd not be able to answer his original question. So what route did he want to take, the slow crush or the neck snap? Um… He had to admit that she had fire to her as the blonde struggled in his grip. With his spare hand Junner straightened his glasses. The woman flipped him off again before clawing at his gloved hand around her throat. He eased up enough to prolong her death for his own pleasure, letting her gasp down just a hint of air. Yes, the slow crush was always so – quickening.

Fry glared. The bastard was playing with her. Playing. With. Her. Life. She saw red as rage fueled her with increased strength. Her knee came up again and slammed into Junner's gut. He let out an "ooff" noise as the air left his body, but he did not let go. "Please, keep fighting. It's so much better when my victim struggles." The taunt was damning. Part of her wanted to go limp to defy him. Part of her knew that if she gave up he'd just snap her neck. At least he wasn't trying to rape her. But she knew she wouldn't be able to keep this up for very long. Where were Riddick and Jack?

OoOoOoOoOoO

Two rather out of place figures made their way down pristine wide corridors. They were both ready, at an instant, to slip into cover should the need arise. Their ears were fine-tuned to the sounds of feet. Yet all they heard was their own soft steps. They clambered up through the levels of the Kubla Kahn expecting to meet with mercs around every bend and met no one. Riddick was puzzled by the absence. The way to the flight deck was clear – too clear. The fine hairs on his neck lifted in warning as the door came into view. They had not even encountered a normal crewmember. He glanced over at Jack, and they paused at the door. "Stay back, hidden. Don't do anything 'uncivilized.' Got it?" Shaken out of her personal thoughts about how strange the trip had been to reach this point Jackie nodded. Riddick had shielded her thus far, and she knew that when it came to fighting her ability was lacking. It was a matter of common sense really. But the darkness inside her, like the one inside Riddick, wouldn't just cower in the dark if the other were threatened. It was determined to watch his back. She knew that if Riddick was threatened…. All bets would be off. No one messed with her mate and lived to brag about it. No one. Riddick opened the doors. They could hear the sounds of a woman gasping for air. Riddick didn't hesitate. Jack watched as he swiftly moved in to confront the unseen assailant. "Let her go."

Junner responded with an, "Hmm." Jackie went numb. She slipped in to the bay hugging the shadows along the wall. She had to stay out of sight and keep her eyes open. She couldn't make a mistake like she'd done when they arrived here. Getting caught by Junner was not an option now that they were so close to getting away. Besides, the idea of becoming the bitch-witch's newest piece of art just did not appeal.

Riddick eyed Carolyn Fry's condition as she weakly struggled in the death grip around her throat. It was risky, but he knew the other man itched for a chance to fight him. Would he take the bait? "It's me you're after. You want a shot at the title?" He punched his fist into his hand to show that he meant business. His face contorted in emotion that could be read as anger, pure and hot. What rolled about in his gut though was a mass of emotions that he didn't dare look at too closely.

"Where is the girl?" In spite of the question he let go of the blonde he was choking. He allowed the docking pilot to fall to the floor, no longer concerned with her in the slightest. His eyes darted first to the bald man advancing on him then past his form to the shadow mottled walls and nooks made by the various ships. She could be anywhere, truly, but he was sure that she was here just out of sight.

Riddick shrugged. "Dead, maybe? Lost, perhaps? Besides the point at the moment, don't you think?" He kept on advancing toward the other man with menace. Riddick pulled his shiv. The razor sharp blade was tinted with various shades of blood, giving the silver metal a very sinister look in the harsh light of the flight deck.

Carolyn quickly backed up out of the way in a crab-walk as Junner shed his coat. She watched the white fabric slither to the floor as she struggled to catch her breath. Her eyes were then drawn back upwards by the movement of a black long-barreled gun. She watched Junner slide his sword out of its place where it mated with his rifle. The man then bent, never removing his eyes off of Riddick, placed the gun on the floor, straightened, and toed it away. Fry's eyes followed the gun as it slid across the metallic floor into the shadows at the base of a ship.

Jackie heard the sound of Junner's coat falling to the ground and his blade being slid out of his gun. Scraping told her that the firearm was being slid across the floor. She scurried silently around a ship, staying out of sight but closing in on the action. Concealed by deep shadows she watched as the two men, one bronzed and broadly muscular the other pale as snow with sinewy limbs, assessed each other. Junner was slightly taller, his blade longer but undoubtedly slower. Riddick, she knew, was faster in spite of his bulk. Even with Junner's reach she guessed that the pair was rather evenly matched. She just wished that they had seen the taller man in action before this. Riddick moved in closer, drawing his opponent's attention fully to him. Jackie remembered that she needed to keep moving, to stop placing herself in danger. She slid out of sight of the battle just as Junner jabbed at Riddick who was just beyond his reach. The sound of heavy-soled boots connecting with metal sounded off that Riddick had kicked the blade away.

Riddick felt the jar as his foot connected hard with the other man's longer blade. The bastard was stronger than he looked; perhaps he had implants that were not visible. The sword remained firmly under control much to his dismay. Still, the opening is a good one, so he moved in low leading with one shoulder and swept his claw-like shiv up high aiming for his opponent's throat. Junner neatly dodged sideways and backwards without really giving up any ground. There was a savage thrill in taking on someone who was skilled with a blade rather than it being a secondary weapon used in desperation. Johns used his concealed blade as a third draw even, but Junner's blade moved like an extension of his body. Riddick let his instinct take over making the blade fight seem more like a dance then the deadly struggle that it truly was.

Watching the two combatants as she scurried backwards, Carolyn finally felt the fabric of Imam's robes. She sank to the floor with one hand circled on the dark skinned man's ankle. He was still warm, and her fingers could feel the throb of his heart as blood flowed to the time of his pulse, slow and steady in his unconsciousness. That fact was one that spread through her with a wave of relief. At least Abu was still alive. The thought that she should look him over for wounds tickled at her awareness, but her eyes were captive to the movements of the two men gracefully attempting to kill one another. The fight continued as Riddick and Junner circled locked inside their own world that consisted of thrusts, dodges, blocks, feints, and counters. It was hypnotic to watch and Fry was entranced by the lethal splendor of it.

He had to admit, less grudgingly than he wanted to divulge to anyone except himself, that the convict was skilled with that shiv. The man currently was dodging one of Junner's slicing blows. The bespectacled man let the force of the blow carry him into a defensive position just in time to block a swift stab from the claw-like blade. His opponent backed up a step without really leaving much space for a fancy move. Lacking room to even force Riddick back further, Junner thrust with the point of the blade, thinking that he would at the very least catch Riddick's arm with the blow. He found, however, that the motion was expected. His grip firmly at the mercy of the broad man's larger hand, he snarled in anger as he came glasses to goggles with a face rather distorted with its own version of the same expression. That caused his carefully planned strategy to fly out the window. He clenched his other hand into a fist and descended the fight a notch by slugging the overly close body with near wild abandon.

The sting and flash of pain overtook any pretence that Riddick had of playing fair. 'You really don't want to start playing dirty with me. You won't like the result,' he mentally warned the taller man who was readying himself for another powerful punch. Not giving his opponent the chance, Riddick ground his fist into the man's kidneys forcing him to pull his blow short. It still stung, of course, but the punch was not nearly as damaging at Junner must have wanted it to be. He squeezed the fine-boned hand in his grip, wondering if Junner realized that he could have stabbed him in the back. Just at the pale fellow splayed his hand and pushed Riddick away while twisting his sword free, Riddick further wondered why he hadn't. 'Damn, that was a wasted opportunity.' He nearly missed Junner's charge with his preoccupation but managed to whack him aside before taking a defensive stance. As they circled it occurred that perhaps he was going soft, particularly since Shazza had given him that damn breather of hers…

The docking pilot watched the fight with mounting fear. So far, Riddick had not even landed a blow. He'd grappled, countered, blocked, and feinted, but Junner sported nary a bruise. She expected the bronze skinned man to stick his shiv to the hilt into the other man's back, and it looked for a moment that Riddick's intention was to do just that, but instead he twisted his fist into the spot. She heard Junner land a second strike with his fist and winced at the sound. That had to hurt. The pair stumbled apart, Junner rushed and was nearly thrown aside, before they circled and begun the deadly dance again. Fry watched as the seconds passed. Riddick jabbed forward, only to have his blade kicked aside. Junner then thrust but was met by a full body slam. His reaction is to grab the wrist connected to the bladed hand. Riddick countered by doing likewise. The fighters panted as they struggle. Riddick maintained his grip as he hurled the other man into the side of a ship hard enough to knock the wind out of him. The metallic clang vibrated through the flight deck.

Sounds of swooshing blades, fists hitting flesh and grunts filled the air. Jackie scrambled around just in time to witness the two men lock into a struggle that forced Junner back against a ship. She ducked and scanned for the gun. Junner forced Riddick off with a kick. Their blades clashed repeatedly. Then Riddick's shiv went flying through the air. She heard it clatter to the floor, but her eyes locked onto the convict ducking under a deadly blur of silver before catching the arm holding the sword. With a neat twist he disarmed the taller, thin man. The long blade sailed in an arc into the shadows. Her eyes followed the metallic form until her ears confirmed that it was on the ground. As Jackie's eyes went slowly back to the battle they spotted the black long barreled gun in the darkness about halfway across the bay. She carefully set off that direction keeping under cover and silent.

He'd never fought hand-to-hand for so long before. The struggle to catch his breath was nearly as difficult as it had been to disarm that razor sharp hooked blade. He felt dribbles of sweat making trails over his skin and observed that the other man had the telltale sheen too. In another life, he might have called the bronze skin over those bunched muscles alluring. Locked in this deadly struggle of his own making, though, Junner could barely spare the attention that noticing his adversary was winded took. His back smarted from the impact against the ship. He'd have a nasty bruise later, no doubt. His wrist ached from being brutally twisted, and he was surprised that his opponent stopped short of breaking his arm in favor of releasing him with a shove once his weapon was gone. He caught his balance, knowing that he still had reach on the other man. Something in that impassive face chilled him, settling ice in his overheated gut. Behind his glasses, Junner's eyes dart as he readied himself for the advance that he knew was coming. The Riddick's leg was in reach. He connected with the muscular thigh with his foot, ducked as an arm breezed past his head, and gracefully swung his body back upright with a strike of his own. His perception dwindled down to the repeated pain in his hands as he connected with flesh and the mirroring web-like pulses of pain as Riddick landed blows into him.

Jackie reached the gun and scooped it up, ducking back as the men continue to duke it out, brutally. It sounded evenly matched until Junner kicked Riddick back into a pile of crates and machinery. Cable, crates, and other parts of the stack fly out from the impact. Jackie can hear the sounds of boots as Junner moved away to recover his blade. Riddick was a distance from his shiv, and she was held in place by her promise to stay out of sight. The tall pale man scooped in his sword and returned for the kill, boot clacking against the floor.

Riddick watched the other man coolly retrieve his weapon. He knew that the sharp pain in his shoulder meant that it was dislocated or worse. Even if he had not been injured in the collision there was no way he could reach his shiv before Junner returned to chop his head off. Hanging next to his uninjured shoulder, snaking down from the ceiling and across the floor as a direct result from the scattered stack was a hot power cable. A plan quickly formed. He just needed to wait… Junner walked closer. Two more steps. One more... Junner swung for the kill and Riddick rolled away, snagging the cable with his right hand. A tidy little flick of his wrist translated into a flipped loop around Junner's neck. He pulled. Junner choked. Riddick pulled harder.

Then in a gross error of judgement, Junner cut the line. The lights went out. And Riddick was on him in a flash. Jackie heard him move, and she heard the sound of Riddick's shiv crunching through glass, squishing through soft tissue. Junner groaned then screamed as the blade drove home into his brain. The emergency lights started to come on. Junner's body hit the floor in a wet, dead, thud, with Riddick's shiv buried in his eye. "I told you that was coming." Riddick announced to no one in particular.

It was the deep male moan that started Carolyn out of her daze. She turned to see Imam wince as he rubbed his head where Junner had clobbered him. The docking pilot swiftly moved over to check on Lujjan who was still out cold. The odor of blood filled the flight deck, doing more to rouse the holy man than any other thing. He blearily scanned for Jack, noting his blonde companion before spotting Riddick holding his arm like he's been seriously injured. Imam kneeled down next to Lujjan and Carolyn. The princess is just coming around, clearly in pain. Near silent footsteps drew his eyes back to the broad shouldered man who was scanning the flight deck with is quicksilver gaze. There was no indication that Jackie was anywhere near by, yet Riddick, right hand holding his left arm steady and firm, seems unconcerned as he walks over to the sleekest six-man shuttle in the bay. He was nearly out of sight when Imam stood with a rustle of his robes and lurched forward, dizzy still from the blow he'd taken to his head. "Wh-where are you going?" He asked in a shaky voice.

Pain radiated across his torso from his left shoulder in aching waves of intense hot and cold. He couldn't rest, not yet. They were still not safe. Perhaps being together again, seeing that both Abu and Carolyn were alive at this late stage in the game meant that they weren't nearly as close to escape as he desperately wanted them to be. His eyes spotted a ship that would get them to the Helion system, "Gonna prep this ship and get off this heap."

Jackie crept out from her hiding spot. Fry was kneeling next to the unconscious princess. Riddick's entire being seemed to scream out in painful tension as he carefully put one foot in front of the other. Jackie moved more out into the open. "So we can escape?" Imam asked as he gathered Lujjan up in his arms. Riddick merely motioned for him to follow. Jackie moved over to Imam and touched the docking pilot on the arm garnering a hopeful smile in the process. Riddick opened the hatch. Lujjan slowly moved her arms around the holy man's neck. "It is over," Imam assured the three women. "We have survived." Still, Jackie cannot discount the tingle on the back of her neck and the whispers of danger that caress her ears. The hatch spilled light into the bay, and a long shadow fell over them. The slim young woman's eyes are drawn towards the source of the wheezing, pained breathing.

The glance caught Riddick's eye. He had little time to ponder what she saw before his mind provided an image of the tall, white haired woman with her cyan blue rooms. The look in Jackie's eyes was hard, angered, fiercely protective, and scared. He had no doubt that bitch-witch stood behind him. By the sound of things the cybernetic woman-thing had come unhinged. She was cackling like a madwoman. Riddick's fine tuned senses scream at him that he was truly fucked.

It was a shocking thing to witness the wild, insane visage raise an ancient double barreled gun and level it at the single thing that had gotten them this far. The four witnesses were frozen and unable to move as time itself seemed to freeze around them. It pulled on the trigger, tightening its twitching arm and hand into a locked, sure, point-blank shot. "Back to hell with you, you bloody stinking savage!" The bang shattered the silence as Riddick fell.

Suddenly Jackie ceased to exist. In her place was something dark, primitive. Her vision held only enough room for the target in white that moved forward to loom over its mate's prone form. The gun slowly lined up with the head. There is no conscious thought involved. No past. No future. Only now. And she is the herald of death. A boom rang out. It is the noise that shatters innocence even in the vacuum of space. The she-demon retreated. Jackie blinked a slow blink. Reddish darkness gave way to high-heeled boots of white shiny leather emerging from soft cloth. Blood splattered folds outlining perfectly formed legs and a narrow waist. Crimson coppery fluid pooled around the torso and thin shoulders. But of that hated face, the fake hair… nothing but a splatter on the distant floor remained. The cruel, cold bell-like voice would bother them no more. The young woman feels the warm handle of the black gun still in her hands. The arid smoke issuing from the barrel tickles her nose. She let out the breath she hadn't realized she was holding as the man on the floor stirred, slowly lifting himself into a kneeling position.

"Um--," he grunted as he lifted himself off the floor.

A feeling of lightness, of rightness, spread through her, "Yeah, we made it." Riddick looked at the headless body then at Jackie. He blinked. That had been one hell of a shot. He'd have to take her with him now. Tried or not, she had killed a Merc. One Merc or an uncounted number, it did not matter to the guild, Jackie had bought herself a permanent record.

"Awfully uncivilized thing you just did there, Jack," Riddick told her. He moved into the ship. Imam carried Lujjan past her behind Riddick. After a moment Jackie felt Fry's arm around her shoulders urging her to follow. She dropped the gun as her feet carried her into the safety of the shuttle.

Once inside and secured, Riddick flew them out into space. Jackie waited until it was clear of the other ship's gravity and moved to check out Lujjan's leg. She shredded more of her shirt and found some stiff bars inside the medkit so she could splint it. Everyone sat quiet for a few hours. Jackie felt weak. 'I lost too much blood. I need to sleep,' she realized. Jackie leaned back and closed her eyes. As she drifted off she heard Imam, "Riddick?"

"Trouble?"

"Yes. It is nothing back there. What worries me lies ahead of us."

"Jack."

"I am concerned for her, Riddick, that--"

"I'm not leaving her behind."

"Even if she becomes – hunted, like you?"

"Like me? Johastein and the Merc Guild are already after her."

The computer beeped and highlighted a system. Lujjan limped over. "What is that place?"

"That's nowhere." Riddick punched a button. "I'm dropping you guys on New Mecca."

OoOoOoOoOoO

Back on the Kubla Kahn the escape was noted by sharp eyes. The scruffy merc knew that the fleeting ship carried the convict with his payday. He was still damp from the necessary shower forced by the swim through sewage. The crew was in a panic. No one could find either the owner or the second in command. Toombs didn't give a shit about that. He hacked his file and was intent on collecting his due. All he needed was to wait until the chain of command released his ship to him and he'd be following Riddick wherever the trail led. Stupid 'golls. His eyes followed the bright streak of the shuttle until with a flash it jumped into faster than light speed. No matter. There was no place in the 'verse that Riddick could go that he couldn't track him. "Riddick," he growled. Richard B. Riddick. A name to commit to memory. Only he knew that Riddick was going by Smyth... No matter. He wouldn't give up. "We ain't done boy. Not by a long shot."