Disclaimer: I don't own the recognizable characters or places mentioned in this obvious work of fiction.
Enjoy and leave feedback if you are so inclined. I'd like some opinions on the new and improved chapters.
Note: Greetings readers, both old and new. During a fit of procrastination, in which I have taken leave of my novel, it has occurred to me that I should work on polishing my older fan fiction. Sometimes the work that you produce at 13 is not quite up to your standards when you're 20 and needs a little bit… more. I've left the original premise as it was, but have altered and improved things such as spelling, grammar, and scene descriptions (Oh the scene descriptions). I apologise to anyone who now gets a flood of updates in their inbox.
Lost in thought, Jack jumped as Riddick placed a hand on her shoulder. "Come on kid, Imam's got the tickets." He rumbled hand tightening reflexively as his eyes scanned their surrounds.
With a sigh Jack threw one last look at the spaceport that had been their home for the last few months. She had been terrified when they'd arrived. Terrified of this new place, terrified of Riddick abandoning them, and just plain terrified. But Riddick hadn't abandoned them. He'd stayed. Jack knew it must have been a struggle for him, overcoming his cut-n-run instincts to remain here, saddled with a fourteen-year-old runaway and a Mecca-Priest. She was glad he'd stayed though; this place was rough, with gangs of tough and desperate people filling the streets in the twilight hours which was all this planet offered in the way of darkness. The only reason they hadn't been worked over yet was Riddick. And now they were leaving, off to New Mecca - if by a rather round about route, to finish Imam's pilgrimage.
Jack approached the open doorway of the deep space transport cautiously. Caution, she had learned over the last few months, was a healthy instinct to nurture. She saw Imam sitting just inside the doorway; he was talking to a kid dressed in a porter's uniform, if you could even call it a uniform. Faded green slacks teamed with a an off-white shirt that had been washed so many times it was now an unmentionable shade of yellow, due mostly in part to the minerals in this planets water. But he was cute. With a grin Jack straightened her shoulders and picked up the pace. Her survival instincts were not the only things to have grown in the last few months.
Imam gave a welcoming smile when he spotted them "Here are your tickets," he said quietly, rising from his seat "And this is Cervis, he will be showing us to our cabin." Riddick glared suspiciously at the itinerant porter. He was one of about a dozen people working the shipyards today. Work was scarce here unless you were mech trained, and it had occurred to a number of the unskilled that if they couldn't find work, then they could at least make it. And they weren't above selling all of the services they could offer. Riddick tried to suppress the protective rage he felt rise within him at the thought of the little weasel getting anywhere close to their party, especially young Jack. Adjusting his goggles slightly Riddick unconsciously flexed the muscles of his arms, causing his skin the ripple. The weasel however remained oblivious to the danger his smarmy attitude was courting.
"Right this way Sirs and," Cervis raised an eyebrow and winked at the youngest member of their travelling band, "Ladies." Jack tried and failed to hide her blush. Riddick had been keeping them pretty close in an effort to keep himself protected and their identities, and the fate of the doomed Hunter Gratzner quiet. It had resulted in her boyfriend related activities being somewhat curtailed, and Jack was eager to try out some of the tricks she had watched the Luna Ladies use to get their mark's attention. Riddick let out a low growl when he caught the look the upstart bag-rat was throwing Jack. Whether by luck of some residual mammalian knowledge of the inevitable consequences of a small fuzzy creature facing of against a wolf, the kid straightened up. Nervously, and even better silently, he loaded their bags onto a push-cart cobbled together from an old table and some filched speeder wheels. Bravado gone the skinny teenager led them deeper into the bowels of the liner.
Kirby came to slowly. Her ribs were on fire, but there didn't seem to be anything broken, though a fracture wasn't out of the question. She cautiously opened her eyes and took in her surrounds. She'd been handcuffed to a utility pole in the middle of the Luggage Compartment, which was a large, rather sparse space on the same level as the Kitchens. One of her guards was asleep nearby. Wincing Kirby tried to move her hands, but they were so swollen from the cuffs that she only succeeded in causing fresh trickles of blood to run down her arms. Her feet were cuffed as well, but as the idiots had cuffed her over her boots they were nowhere near as swollen as her hands, something she was decidedly thankful for. Her throat was parched and she was just about to call out something rude to the sleeping guard when her other captor entered. He was well built; blond, and looked like an angel from the All-god's Temple.
He was a devil with an angels face…
An old line of an even older song flashed like lightning through her mind, after last nights beating Kirby couldn't agree more. Angel walked over to the sleeping guard and kicked him awake.
"Now I know how you assholes lost her the first five times. Sleeping on the job!" Turning to Kirby's suspended form he continued, "My partner," and here the term was sneered into an insult "And I are going to breakfast. You may come along." He offered with what Kirby though of as his Shit-Eating-Grin, "And if you beg I may throw you some scraps to eat, like the bitch you are." Kirby clamped her lips together and tried not to cry out in pain as the Merc wretched her hands upwards; uncoupling the cuffs from the luggage hoop he surveyed her bloody wrists. Satisfied he stepped closer and used his much larger body to pin her against the metal pole, "You know,' he whispered, grinding his crotch into her stomach "Bondage turns me on." Gritting her teeth and unable to move Kirby had no choice but to feel exactly how 'turned on' the bent Merc was. She fixed her eyes on the pale arch of his neck and wondered, somewhat dispassionately, of she had enough strength to leaver herself upwards and rip his throat out with her teeth… but no, that wouldn't do, not at all. She didn't have a change of clothes…
Kirby contented herself with staring blankly ahead, refusing to give the Merc the satisfaction of a response "And…" he lowered his lips to the bloodied shell of her ear, so that only she could hear, "If it wasn't for that lazy slug over there, I would have fucked you six ways from Sunday by now." That said he grabbed Kirby by the back of the neck, and shoved her through the door.
Jack tried to contain her awe as they were led deep into the ships interior. Sleek plasti-wood paneling ran along the walls, while their footsteps were muffled by the thick syth-pet that covered the floors. It was more flash then she'd seen in her entire life, and certainly more then she'd ever seen on a ship. Her last space misadventure having started with the austere food-storage locker of the Hunter Gratzner and having ended with her being almost eaten by a flying dinosaur with teeth. If it weren't for Riddick she'd be nothing but fertilizer on a dying planet right now. They all would be.
Jack looked back at their solemn companion. Even now, surrounded by all of this, he was tense, eyes constantly scanning for danger, fingers twitching. Jack knew he didn't like small spaces, months of watching his reaction to his daily shifts in the mines, or rather his tightly controlled lack of reaction, had taught her that. She felt a stir of pity for him, not that she let it show. You didn't empathise with Richard B. Riddick; you were afraid of him, terrified even, but not empathetic to his never-acknowledged weaknesses. Taking a deep breath and gripping her courage tightly Jack dropped back and slipped her hand into his much larger one, and lightly gave it a small squeeze. Riddick's entire body tensed, though he didn't stop walking or break his stride.
After a minute he very slowly, and very carefully, squeezed back.