A shiver swept over her skin, rippling under the layers of clothing and leaving the distinct awareness that her feet were moist with cooling sweat. Jackie was cold. Her leaden limbs couldn't even manage to curl around her slim form in an effort to retain body heat. She was tired. The muscles in her legs twitched and spasm from the effort exerted during the escape. Another forced run was out of the question now that the thrill and danger of the moment and fled from her body. Finally, after that waking nightmare of the Kubla Khan, she was safe. Or safe enough at least to feel exhaustion to the point that there was no way to keep her eyes open. She thought that perhaps the others were fighting off similar sensations.
Carolyn Fry sat next to her in one of the comfortable seats. The blonde's clothes rustled as she shifted to look forward at the three on the controls. She felt more than a little awe over what she had witnessed. Riddick had revealed more about how dangerous he was on the ship they were fleeing than he'd done on the planet. It had been necessary and she was not scared of him, oddly enough. No, it was Jackie that she was worried about. The young woman had shown no mercy when backed up against the wall and even less when Riddick was threatened. The change in Jackie, the darkness revealed in those moments, chilled Fry but not to the point that she would ever turn away from her friend. She reached over and took Jackie's hand and squeezed it lightly.
But even the touch of the docking pilot's grip in her cold hand helped Jackie as she struggled to stay awake. Riddick's voice rumbled in her ears… "That's nowhere. I'm dropping you guys on New Mecca," before everything begin to fade out. She internally growled at her weakness. 'Where is nowhere?' she wondered. Her will to stay with the others delayed her departure into nothingness and let her reflect on what she could feel. The cutter was temperate. It was warmer on this little cutter than it had been on the skiff that was for sure. The atmosphere was rich with oxygen. She felt lightheaded with it. The seats were comfortable. Her body just melted into the cushions. It was good to be safe again… It seemed like the entire universe was hostile and the only safe place was inside an insignificant tin can of a ship… in the middle of emptiness. She felt the chill deep inside her. 'Lack of blood,' she reminded herself.
She was floating in the black. The ebb and flow of her companions' voices flowed around her like music even though she was unable to understand the words they were speaking. She let it just happen for a while. Riddick's rich, deep bass flowed like velvet. Imam's tones were warm like a blanket. Lujjan's tinkled like splendor itself, while Carolyn's voice whispered across it all, sweetly pleading for her to not leave. Of course she wasn't going anywhere; they were in space, after all. Where could she go? She was scarcely aware of the metallic and vinyl undercurrents scenting the air fading to that of humid earth and leather. Evergreen trees and stone. The forest, rich and welcoming, assaulted her nose.
She forced her eyes open. Furya. The same orange star hovered on the horizon, in a different spot but still not overhead. Of course, it had to be the only place in the 'verse that she would, or could, leave Riddick for. But hell, she didn't want to be here. Not now. She stared at the Furyan sun with a glare, refusing to look elsewhere. "Shirah!" She called. Silence greeted her, so she spent more time glaring at the sky. She was struck by the odd sensation that the day here had the sun cutting across the sky rather low to the horizon. It was almost as if the planet spun on an unusual tilt wobbling like a top… It was more pleasant to wonder about the star than to look lower at the graves that spread out below her. But knowing that they were there was enough to cause her to look down at them… Morbidly, she walked over to one plaque that had been shattered.
"I gotta stop coming here. I really do," She looked around for Shirah knowing that the woman would be there somewhere. There was still no sign of her. Jackie sighed. She kneeled down and began putting the polished white marble pieces back in place. She couldn't read the writing, but the feeling she got was one of peace once the stone was set as right as she could make it. "Must suck to have your gravestone fucked up, huh?" she asked to the air around her. She slowly ran her hand over the broken pieces. "I'd mend it if I could…" She had a sudden flash of Lujjan's broken leg and pale delicate hands smoothing the shattered bone back into place. There was a light, an energy, around the area and the hands she saw looked familiar. She blinked the image away. That was weird… She stood up and looked over the graves again. The sight chilled her. "Shirah? Am I here 'cause I'm dying again?" She looked around, "Shirah?"
Silence continued for a long time after her voice died down. Jackie sighed again and glanced at the ledge she stood on. There was a cave. She hadn't noticed that before. Jackie walked into the darkened natural space. She blinked until her eyes adjusted. Paleness faintly glimmered in spots contrasted with twin holes of the deepest darkness, repeated over and over. It took a moment for it to sink in exactly what she was seeing. The cave was lined with tiny skulls. From top to bottom, every spare bit. Skulls of babies. More than she could count, more than she could comprehend… shock, numb and dead, flooded her brain. She couldn't breath. She couldn't move. Time itself seemed to come to a screeching halt as she stood there.
And then, time began to flow again. Pain exploded across her chest as her mind caught up to what she was standing in the middle of. Dark whispers of marching soldiers, fearful children huddled behind whatever shelter there were to be had, death screams echoed faintly through her ears. Each child represented here clamored for attention all at once. The maelstrom of images and noise stretched out in her mind as a sea of chaos and agony. She screamed, driven into giving voice to the souls whom had violently lost theirs in the throws of genocide. The vision receded but the emotional pain continued to rip at Jackie's heart. She'd heard Riddick talk about the company finding only a few survivors, but to see the evidence, to be confronted with it by the souls of the victims themselves… Someone had killed thousands of young children here… She collapsed in the middle of the chamber and sobbed.
The hushed weeping drew the apparitions that dwelled here closer. It had been a long time since any of them had heard one of their own, still connected to life, mourning over the tragic events that had happened. Two and a half decades long. The spirits stirring got the guardian's attention. She had known that Jackie could come here at will. She'd infused her with the protector's power because that was what she held to the strongest. Shirah walked out of the woods. She noted the gravestone put back into place. So Jackie had figured out how to coax out her own boon from the forces here? That was very interesting. Shirah looked toward the Cave of Innocence for a moment before kneeling down to run her own hand over the cracked stone… A spark of healing energy flowed from it. Shirah quirked an eyebrow. The young woman had surprises of her own it seemed. It had been generations since a healer had been born. Jackie would be like the classic forces associated with womanhood, able to create, maintain, and destroy life at will. Shirah decided that she needed to calm the sorrow and anger that welled from inside the youth. The blond warrior-woman walked into the cave behind Jackie and put a strong hand on her shoulder.
Jackie felt the touch was permeated with power. It calmed her slightly. She sniffled, "You gonna tell me what shit went down here?"
Shirah looked into Jackie's pained eyes, "In time. All you need to know now is that you are protected and protector. The pain and anger of the entire race will come to your aid when you need it." She stood her up and drew her back outside the cave. "Go back now, Jackie."
She tried to protest. She wanted to know now what had happened here, and who had done it. But Shirah was not revealing that yet. In fact, Shirah was not letting her stay a moment longer…Jackie blinked. When she opened her eyes Riddick was standing over her, his hands on her shoulders and his face twisted into a worried look. "Stop doing that shit, Jack."
She blinked. Her face was moist like she'd been crying… She reached up and put a hand on his chest, just to make sure he was real. She still felt groggy. "What shit, Riddick? I needed to sleep."
"Not for 34 hours you didn't!" He yelled at her. His fingers curled over her shoulders in a tighter grip. He shook her slightly. She could see he was scared; he didn't understand her tears, the visions she was having, the meaning of it all… She needed to calm him.
Her face became sweet with compassion, "Hey! Relax." Jackie reached up and put her hands on his face, "I'm sorry if I scared you. But I needed to sleep. You cut me deep and I really needed to just rest." His face softened. Her hands gently soothed him. He brushed his hands over her wrist before moving lower and tracing his finger over the pink line of newly healed skin that ran across the fleshy part of her lower arm. The motion drew her eyes down to it. The wound where Riddick had bled her was nearly healed. She looked at his arm and noticed the same thing. She grabbed the limb, "How did you heal so fast?"
"You did it," he whispered with more than a little awe. "You fixed Lujjan's leg too. I don't know how…"
Imam added, "It appeared to be a healing touch, perhaps divine. Have you been to Furya again?"
"She just woke up, Abu. Can't you give it a rest?" Came Fry's quick defense from the front of the cutter.
Imam had the grace to look sheepish for a moment, and apologetic right after. "Perhaps later?" He offered.
Jackie raised an eyebrow, feeling more awake now. Carolyn was at the controls looking like she was fully recovered. Lujjan hovered near Abu with a smile ghosting over her face. Riddick stayed, kneeling at her feet, nearly purring under her hands, one of which was still on his cheek while the other was curled over his arm. Of them all, Riddick looked the most shaken by her 'trip.' Maybe she should answer, just for his sake. She looked back at the ex-ranger and smiled, "Um… Yeah. I have been. To Furya, that is."
Imam looked at Riddick with a 'see? I told you' kind of expression, one that Riddick didn't see as his back was to the holy man. "I assured you, Richard, that she was alright," he said softly.
The change was immediate as relief washed over the larger bronze-skinned man. His entire posture softened as the panic fled from him. Trust. He could trust these people. How strange that was? Yet it was true, so very true. Here in this tiny tin can in space, among the impersonal stars, he had found the greatest treasure. Imam had been right. Carolyn had kept the princess off his case and defended him over Jackie's condition. And, most telling of all, she'd returned to him instead of fleeing to that otherworld place of vast forests and orange sunlight; that place called Furya. The place he knew well but denied at every opportunity. The large man grunted, stood, and scooped his mate into his arms. He then sat in her seat and nuzzled her protectively.
Jackie playfully bopped his nose. "Stop worrying." He nuzzled her lightly again and relaxed. Jackie giggled. "How long until we get to New Mecca?" They were no longer in wild space, but on a well used route.
"Six weeks to Helion 5." Carolyn answered.
"Lujjan and Imam can get a transport from there to New Mecca, but we won't be staying in any case." Riddick was firm on that point. "I am guessing that the Company will be right there to pick you up, Captain. Debriefing and all that crap."
Docking pilot, or no, that gave Carolyn Fry reason to pause. Perhaps she could convince the pair to take her with them? Nah, she'd just get in the way. Besides Imam had to have some support among the Company wolves, "Not something I'm looking forward to, really. But I'm going to stick to the truth, Mr. Smyth. No reason to lie, now is there?" Her smile was cunning and yet remarkably sweet. The echo of a smirk on Riddick's face told her that he fully understood her message. Richard B. Riddick was dead. He'd died back there on that planet of Hammerheads, no matter what the 'Golls had believed.
Imam walked back to them, "I can get us safely docked. I can even keep them from questing you. There will be a reward for my return, as the church wants to know if I am alive or dead for insurance purposes. It should be enough to buy you a ship, or refuel this one. Please reconsider."
"It's too dangerous."
"My house is safe, Mr. Riddick." Imam sat down across from them holding the goggled gaze with his own, "Please, for Jackie, reconsider."
Jackie looked up at Riddick. He was thinking this through. She could see the gears turning in his head, "Okay. Long enough to buy a ship, but no longer."
The only other problem was dealing with each other for the next six weeks or so. The cutter had cryosleep systems that were far more advanced than those on the Hunter Grantzer. By using them they could coach the ship into arriving sooner, but no one wanted to be put under. Carolyn hated cryo and as long as they had enough supplies to make it while staying away she was willing to take the extra week in space. Of course, Riddick and Jackie stayed silent on the matter. The cutter was in top shape, and in spite the last experience, neither cared one way or the other. In the end, Iman and Lujjan went under willingly, taking the passenger cryobeds in the back of the cutter. Riddick was saddened by Abu's decision but didn't voice it.
Instead, the three staying awake occupied themselves. Riddick and Fry taught Jack more about piloting. Riddick made the two women partake of his daily exercise regimen. They listened to the news reports and sometimes either Riddick or Jackie would read something aloud from whatever database Jackie hacked into. The cutter's supplies were much better than the stuff they existed on in the skiff, and all three of them were looking much better at the end of five weeks than they had in a long while.
Richard B. Riddick was a man that needed little sleep, even in the worse of times. Oddly enough, he felt better than he had felt in years. Being in the slam was hardly conductive to glowing health, to be sure, but the emergency rations set aside in the cutter were very high quality and combined with the exercise he could feel the recovery he was making right down to his bones. He could see that his companions were doing much better also. Even the two sleepers looked refreshed. What bothered Riddick was that he spent far too much time thinking about the holy man. He missed the clink of the beads as Abu went about his prayers. He missed the man's warm smile. He missed the compassion in the other man's eyes. So late one night, Riddick found himself triggering the controls to wake the sleepers up. He watched with a blank face as the dark skinned man worked toward wakefulness.
Imam rose through the layers of blackness and found himself eye to goggle with his friend. Concern flooded him, "How close are we? Is there a problem?"