After Riddick had left her alone Fiona had wept. She broke down silently, no tears to shed, as she had no water in her system. She felt useless in this heat, in this situation. If only she could prove herself, knowing time and time again that she was a let down. It only fueled her determination however. When it was all said and done she kicked her ass into gear and headed back out into the sun.

Johns had found her instantly, directing her to "woman's work" as he called it. Paris was all happy to have help with his scavenging but wasn't too excited when it was her before him. It only took him ten minutes of digging in silence before he started chattering her head off with facts, knowledge, and his life story.

Fiona had remained quiet during the whole ordeal, knowing very well this conversation was for his benefit, not hers. So she listened, she took orders, and she learned, picking up the gossip that was already developing in the small group. Apparently the captain and Johns were having private conversations that the rest of the group wasn't privy too.

"Here, use this to clean them." Paris handed Fiona the cloth from inside his pocket. She used it to dust off the insides of the glasses he had dug up from around the cantina area, left behind at the settlement. Someone had found water and they were going to celebrate its arrival.

Johns stepped in from the sun not seconds later and put down a bottle of water on the table, smiling like a toddler who had handed their parent a fresh finger painting. Fiona glanced at the bottle for a moment but continued to meticulously clean without a word.

"It looks like you're fitting in nicely. One could almost forget you're a criminal with this kind of domestic behavior in front of you." She let him make his snotty remark, the gleam in his eyes fresh from the hit he had taken recently. She wondered briefly what it would be like for him when the Morphine ran out and they were still trapped on this planet with these people and this heat.

As if a dog whistle had been blown everyone else started filtering into the tent. Johns started pouring the water into the cups, Imam handing them out one by one with enthusiasm.

"Our gift of drink!" The Chrislam's joy was genuine, his smile leaking onto the captains face as she accepted the cup he handed her. "We give thanks in the name of our Prophet, Muhammad, peace be upon him, and to our Lord Christ of Nazareth..." Jack rolled his eyes but thanked him nonetheless when handed water. "…and to his father, Allah the Compassionate and the Merciful."

"The strangest religion..." Paris muttered under his breath, taking a sip from his water. Fiona cracked a smile, watching as the scrawny man beside her smiled in return.

Fiona watched Riddick slip into the room, his eyes on her instantly. She felt guilty suddenly, enjoying the company of others when she needed to be working on getting out of here. The sentiment of being around others grew strong though, and she couldn't help but feel just a little bit of jealousy for their worldly ability to talk and function normally.

Johns just about threw a glass into her hands, his scowl deep. She looked at the bottom of the cup in her hand, finding the sediment from the pump stirring around in the murky fluid. She wouldn't complain; water was water – dirt and all. She downed it quickly, mixing the minerals around in her mouth before spitting them out discretely.

Riddick just swallowed them all, the glass back on the table without a blink of his eye. Not that she could tell anyhow, those goggles gleamed in the sunlight so perfectly.

"Perhaps we should toast our hosts? Who were these people, anyway? Miners?" Paris shuffled over to a stool, leaving Fiona alone against the table. She took the time to move herself, saddling up next to the young boy Jack, an open stool next to him.

"Looks like geologists, advanced team, moves around from rock to rock." Shazza muttered her response, eyes looking out into the sunny world through the open cloth door. You could feel the despair dripping off of her.

"Musta crapped out here, huh?" Johns instinctively followed Shazza's gaze, looking from her stony stare to where her eyes were directed. Fiona could all but hear his thoughts, telling the woman to get the fuck over it already. He couldn't very well speak his mind though, so he kept his mouth shut for the most part. If only they knew the real Johns.

"But why did they leave their ship?" Jack piped up, all eyes moving to him as he quickly sunk back in his little space. Whenever he spoke everyone was quickly reminded of the youth that was in their presence. Yes Imam's boys were young but they looked the part, their father there with them, but Jack was alone. He also didn't seem too bothered about the death of the guardian that was required for him to get on the flight.

Fiona wanted to give him an answer herself, but she couldn't very well do that. No one seemed to be able to really, as the sadness of the truth seemed all but obvious to everyone else.

"Well, a toast to their ghosts then..." Paris was softer this time, his enthusiasm lost in the wind around him. They all sipped on the water offered to them, thoughts of death and god swirling around in the silence. Fiona found herself tuning out the rest of the words. Riddick spoke up, said something to break the mood. She focused more on the ship just outside the room, the sun bounding off the now patched up wings.

Imam had been working on them earlier. She had wanted to help but she got caught up being bandaged. Her eyes glazed over and she quickly shut them, shaking the fog from her head. She hadn't eaten in so long and the water wasn't enough. Fatigue was settling in, she could feel the last of her energy reserves being burnt. She could hear the faint words, talk of death and the settlement before. Riddick's voice barreled across the warm room and caught her attention, the sarcasm heavy as he responded to a question with one of his own. What he was implying was simple.

Everyone here had died. Died fighting, died hiding, that much they weren't sure of, but they were all dead.

He suggested the inspection of the coring room, and just like that they all followed quickly to the shed on the other side of the settlement. Riddick hung back out of precaution, preferring to follow besides lead. Fiona slid off her stool and put her glass back on the table. She had hoped there would still be water but the bottle was empty.

As if the thing was whispering to her, her eyes returned to the skiff. She could still see it, gleaming in the sunlight like a beacon. She didn't even look in Riddick's direction, her new goal set as her feet carried her outside in the opposite direction of everyone else.

She climbed aboard, looking over the controls quickly. She followed the captains ghost path, finding out as much as she could. The skiff in fact had only been placed for emergency leaves. The cells were drained, either indicating the skiff had sat there running for days or it had departed and returned countless times. There was just enough power in the reserve cell to provide a systems check, a quick scan showing that it would still run.

Frustrated, Fiona denied a full systems check, knowing she wouldn't have the time. Getting up from the seat she ran her fingers over the dead cells, realizing instantly that these were the same as in the Gratnzer. Easy, they would just need to pull five, maybe six of the full ones here. She mulled over the idea, wondering if Riddick could handle that much weight. No one knew how long they'd be out there in the tracking lane waiting for someone to float by, that extra cell might be important in the end.

She then searched the storage containers for food, finding a reserve tucked away for a few weeks. She figured the captain hadn't found it, or didn't want to talk about it. Tucking it back in she hid it behind the flight suits, knowing no one would take the time to pull those out.

Glancing over everything she made sure nothing was disturbed before she jumped out and high tailed it in the direction of the coring room. Her mind rambled over the ship, knowing that she could get it moving once the cells were in place. They could only take four bodies in total, so there wasn't much room for everyone. The idea of leaving these people didn't sit well with her, but that's why she kept her distance. She wouldn't blame herself in the future; survival was all she had now.

Whatever commotion had existed had faded away by the time she had joined them. The coring room doors were busted wide open, Imam on the ground just outside sobbing. Fiona treaded softly, watching as what was left of the mans sons consoled him, touching him softly on his shoulders and head. She stood a few feet from him, glancing into the open space that everyone else occupied. She wouldn't go in, wouldn't make it more obvious that she hadn't been there the whole time.

Imam thanked his sons, their voices lost to her as they spoke in their own language. The man gained his strength and rose, looking down at his children and giving them each an individual hug and kiss. Fiona watched from her peripheral vision, the exchange something she was eavesdropping in on.

Jack stepped out of the coring room just then, eyes on Imam as he watched the exchange as well. There was a longing in the young boys face as he probably thought of his own parents. He turned his eyes away from them quickly, refusing to let himself stare too long. Fiona rose a brow in his direction, catching the young mans scowl before he darted off back towards the skiff.

Fiona was too busy watching Jack walk away to see the captain before the woman slammed into her. She didn't fall, only felt a shake in her body that made each bruise and cut sting.

"...22 years..." She muttered to herself, not even apologizing before darting off to the building across the way. Fiona staggered, giving herself only a moment to think before following the woman. She slipped into the dark room, hearing the mutters of Carolyn coming from a room off to the left. She didn't go fully in, only watching from the doorframe as the captain played with a giant replica of the solar system, the clicking increasing as she cranked the wheel on the side.

Johns shouldered past Fiona into the room, watching the display before him.

"I don't know why I didn't see it before!" Fry was all but hysterical, her eyes set on the small planet that had a blue flag sticking out of it.

"See what Fry? I think you need to sit in the shade for a few more minutes."

"No, no... I won't even need shade soon anyhow cause..." The machine continued to click and then slowly the blue flag shifted into complete darkness, the planet it was pinned into the same. "Eclipse." Fry smiled brightly from her find, eyes glued to her fate. The smile slowly faded and realization seemed to kick it.

"Are you fuckin' kidding me?"

"Not afraid of the dark, are you?" Fiona glanced over her shoulder at Riddick's voice, not having noticed him before now. He was only inches from her, his goggles lifted so he could see into the room without strain. The silence was thick; Fry stepping away from the rotational system in front of her, the ticking continuing out the little planet still in darkness. Years moved passed them so quickly in just a matter of seconds and the planet still remained in darkness.

Fiona did not wait for the others to speak. She wiggled past Riddick, making sure not to touch him, pushing her way through the room. The air collided around her as she sucked in the small levels of 02, sun slamming into her quickly. Her feet dragged through the sand, heavy from strain. Her eyes glanced amongst the survivors, wondering how long each individual would last if the world was coming to an end before them. She could see the panic, the screaming. Time and time again people died, so why did the idea of these people dying bother her so?

Imam greeted her, however sad it was, when she approached him. He fiddled with the blade Johns had handed him, cutting at the last of the material they were fixing to the body of the ship.

Why were they waiting?

Fiona frowned, wondering why they hadn't returned for the cells already. Even before the imminent danger of darkness had set on them, the prospects of leaving this planet was first priority. They could have gone and returned in due time with the cells, four people jumping up to get attention. So why?

Watching as Imam instructed his eldest son to help him Fiona grabbed at the blade on the table. It was heavy in the hilt; uneven, cheap shit Johns had picked up at some backwards market probably. He only needed it to stab, and stabbing didn't require skill. Pretending to tie her boot Fiona bent down and tucked the blade in by her ankle. The slick metal brushed on her skin, chilled compared to the warmth that was her body.

"How's everything going?" Johns had returned, the captain beside him. Riddick was just behind the two, his steps gliding over the sand like no problem. Everyone else was tired, confused, thirsty, but he remained unrelenting.

"I found an old sandcat. We could get it up and running, use it to transport back across the ground." Shazza motioned for Johns to follow her, and that he did, his interest peaked. Fry headed back into the cantina, Paris inside fiddling with the empty glasses. Fiona made her way towards the skiff, sliding her hand over the metallic surface, inspecting Imam's handy work. He had done good, his sons sitting back and admiring the work as well.

"We can go home now, all we need is the cells." Imam's smile was once again genuine, the mans strength another thing to be confused about. Fiona could only nod, no strength to tell him that his sons wouldn't be able to go. Johns wouldn't let anyone go before him and his bounty, and he needed a captain he could trust to fly them. No. Imam and his sons would not fit.

With the work down the young boys continued to play, Imam watching them from a distance. Jack was not with them, the young man in the cantina trying to hide from everyone. Fiona could see him easily as she made her way out of the glaring sun and into the shade. The captain was on her way out, heading towards the skiff. Watching her carefully Fiona wanted desperately to follow her, she wanted to partake in that full systems check the woman was about to do. She'd have her chance though.

Watching as the back door closed she could see the glimmer of silver staring at her, a heavy weight on her chest suddenly clutching hard.

"Really child, you'd think you would want to play." Paris scoffed, rolling his eyes at the young Jack before heading out into the sun. His delicate self seemed immutable, but he joined Imam all the same. Fiona glanced down at the young man on the floor, his back pressed against the cabinets. His eyes were on his hands, thumbs twirling around one another slowly.

Fiona moved forward slowly, sinking down beside him and landing on the ground soundlessly. Her muscles screamed at her, fully aware of this second of relaxation. She figured they knew it wouldn't last, so they yelled for the seconds they would be getting. They sat in silence, watching the young boys outside as they made toys out of the rocks and the ground. The sun and oxygen didn't seem to bother them at all, the two guardians watching over them both draped in layers.

"I can't believe they're keeping all of those robes on in this heat." Fiona shook her head, sighing deeply. "It's too fucking hot for what I'm wearing let alone all that shit."

Jack cracked a smile, looking over at the young woman who matched his height. "Keeping up appearances I suppose."

"Yeah, but come on. God wouldn't want Imam to sweat his every last ounce of being out. But you know, I wouldn't want to imagine either of them half naked. So maybe the robes are a good thing."

"That there is an image I'll never get out of my mind. Thanks."

"No problem kid."

"No. Please don't." Jack scrunched up his face, rolling his eyes and sighing. "Please don't call me kid. My dad used to call me that. I hate it."

"As you wish. Where is your old man?"

"Dead."

Fiona nodded her understanding, eyes moving to the young man beside her occasionally, trying to gauge his mood. He was good at hiding his upset, his cold stare something trained from years of practice. Maybe he wasn't as simple as he put out, and in that moment Fiona felt slightly connected. She couldn't explain to him why she understood, but she just did. Some life stories just needed to stay where they were.

"I've always wanted to shave my head." Fiona reached out and ran her fingers over Jacks freshly shaven skull, the prickles of the hairs uneven cut felt odd.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. But I don't have balls. So I couldn't very well go through with it. Besides, my old man would have killed me when I was your age if I had done such a thing. Balls kid. You gottem'." In the boys eyes Fiona could see worlds. They swirled around, something in her statement a trigger to his past. She could see him reliving something, see the words on the end of his tongue as he battled with himself on what to do, what to say.

"Will you keep a secret?"