Author's Note: Here's the next installment.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Song for the Chapter: Justice by Rev Theory

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Chibbits, meet Convict, Convict, Chibbit

XI

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Riddick was still laughing as he strode causually from the Vaako suite.

Dame Vaako with her fucking slamming body and perfect ladyship manners, planning and scheming like a viper, and she was now brought down to the dirt with the rest of the dogs. It struck his funny bone in a pleasant and ironic way that her aristocratic ass that had been too good for anything was now lying in a pool of her own blood and puke.

What an ironic way to go. Just went to show that no matter who you were in life and how high you went, you could still fall. Riddick never forgot that for a second. It was one of the things that had allowed him to stay alive for this long. Never trust, and always watch your ass. He shook his head. Riddick had witnessed a lot of weird deaths in his life, but this had to be one of the more funny ones. He chuckled again. Dame Vaako would neither be missed or be cried over. The woman had probably worked over enough people that some of the lesser Necromonger Courtesans would probably throw a party.

That was the awesome thing about this place. In his experience hiding one's pleasure at an enemies downfall was something generally kept under wraps. The Necromongers openly celebrated.

Sadistic Fuckers.

He strode down the dimly lit corridor dodging small bands of intertwined couples having drunken shenanigans in shrouded nooks and crannies along the hall. For a self proclaimed superior race the Necromongers were oddly grounded in the drama and the backstabbing and the nitty gritty reminiscent of the twisted social groups in Butcher Bay. He chuckled at a woman screaming at her lover and the girl she'd discovered him with. That's why he liked this place: it reminded him of home.

Dame Vaako would have fit in with the worst of the worse of the Buther Bay slaughter house. She took out obstacles with a cold ruthlessness and didn't look back, and she made sure that her enemies Dame Vaako didn't give a damn about anyone, especially him. She had pretended to love him, sure, and had tried to jump his bones more than one occasion. While he would normally not hesitate to tap that ass, in this case it would have been more trouble than it was worth. She'd tried to whisper sweetness in his ear. Tell him how strong and handsome he was. How great they would be together... Bullshit. There would have been a knife in his back as soon as he was all used up, and not to mention she woulda probably given him the itch.

He shuddered.

Dame Vaako reminded him of Johns. Ugh. Both had been arrogant self-preserving assholes. Two different people from two different classes of society, but both bound by the same willingness to slaughter and stab whomever stood in the way of what they wanted. Both had had their shit catch up to them in the end. Johns and his entrail munching alien buddies, and then Dame Vaako with her gut vomiting hoodoo juice. He wondered how the Universe was going to have him go. Probably would be worse than both those ends combined, what with the life he led. Shit, maybe he'd trip and fall and land in a Necromonger meat grinder and then be fed to their hounds. Yeah, he could see that happening. Irony was certainly a bitch mistress.

Riddick had honestly entertained the idea of using her, just for the fun of it and for something to do. Just to see the look on her face when she realized it had all been a scam and that he'd been playing her just to show her that he didn't give shit about nobody. It would have certainly taught her a lesson that she wasn't the hot shit that she thought she was, and that she wasn't the only one who could use people.

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Then THEY had popped into his head. The life changing trio, Carolyn, Jack, and Imam. He stopped, shined eyes sweeping the corridor and a chill running up his spine. He felt like someone had walked over his grave. They certainly had a habit of ghosting into his head whenever his humanity was in question. Ever since that night on the planet. He thought he'd made his peace with fear a long time ago, but that damn planet had taught him what it was to really be afraid.

Even now, though he'd never ever admit it to anyone, the nightmares got him some nights. He'd wake up in a cold sweat, halfway out of wherever he was sleeping fingers clenched around a knife and silver eyes searching for monsters that were not there.

He shivered.

A hauntingly familiar face swam across his mind's eye, pale and afraid. He remembered with perfect detail what her face had looked like as she bent over him. He'd thought he was a goner, and then there she was, eyes bright with fear and mouth blue with the cold. Her hair had been plastered to her head and her numb fingers had grasped his arm. Her hands had been shaking, but her grip had been sure.

Carolyn Fry. His mind whispered the name like a lullaby and against his will a heat boiled in his belly.

She had never been what he'd gone for, she was never his type. Small, blond, face a little too square and hands a little too rough. Too much muscle. Nah, she wasn't what he'd have ever looked twice at in a million years. But on the planet...she'd been beautiful. That fierce little woman had squared off against Johns, the monsters, herself, and the dark. Squared off against him. She'd jumped him, tried to beat him, never gave up. Carolyn Fry had been the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

He never forgot the fact that she had come back for his sorry ass when he'd been all set to royally screw the whole lot of them over. She came back for him. He remembered lying there in the cold mud and rain, listening to the creatures singing and popping like an orchestra of monsters. His leg was bleeding like no other and he knew it was only a matter of time before all the mud he'd rolled in stopped fooling the creature's sense of smell. Only a matter of time before Miss Richard's boy became alien shit.

But then there she was. Pale face illuminated by that bug bottle that she'd made, not even a sure fire light. She went into the dangerous dark for a killer, she went into the dark knowing that it was a good bet she might not make it back. She hadn't hesitated but had gone straight to him, gripped him under his arms, and began to try to heave him to his feet. He remembered clearly what she'd said to him.

"Come on Riddick. I said I'd die for them, not for you."

Not for me.

He'd been all set to leave them but that flyboy pilot had convinced him to risk his freedom and go back for two bleeding passengers who had most likely been eaten and digested already. She said she'd die for them, but not for him. And what did she do? Went back for him with a damn glowing bottle. Gave him that smile, that gentle smile that shouted thousands of feelings, thousands of meanings, and died for him. She died for him. Not a day went passed when he didn't think of those bright blue eyes and that smile.

Not for me. Irony was a bitch.

Irony had kicked him in the gut again when Jack had died. Kicked him when he discovered that she'd disappeared looking for him, kicked him when the Necromongers got a hold of her, and kicked him a third time when she'd lay dying because of him. He'd have been dead without her. She'd given, without a thought or hesitation, the distraction needed to beat the old Lord Marshal. He remembered the look on her face. She'd smiled at him. He remembered that conversation too.

"Are you with me Kira?"

"I was always with you."

Then she died. No remorse.

He'd wanted to scream. Carolyn was gone, torn from him in the dark. Imam was gone, killed by the fucking Necromonger dogs. Riddick had done his best to try to find Imam's family, but they were gone, probably dead. Now Kira...Jack was gone, and he was alone. What did he have? A blood thirsty army obsessed with death, obsessed with each other, and obsessed with power.

He was going to ride them and drive them into the ground like dogs. He'd do it for Kira.

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She had always followed him like a little sister. They had had glorious adventures for a few years after dropping Imam off on New Mecca. Then came that run in with Toombs on Orion four. Jack had almost died when the ingrate tried to capture Riddick for the bounty on his head. That had opened his eyes to the fact that Jack would not be safe with him. Would never ever be safe with him. So he'd gone back to New Mecca with her on the pretense that they would be visiting Imam. And he left her there. Never looked back.

He didn't realize the idiot would try to follow him. He should have seen it coming

But she did follow him, she followed him and then she died trying to save him. And she gave him that smile. Carolyn had given him that same gentle smile as the monsters killed her. As if she were apologizing because she could not help him the entire way. As if she was telling him she lov- No. He was not going there. He'd given up that sort of thing a long time ago. Richard B. Riddick did not love, and no one loved him.

He stomped down the corridor seething mad. First Carolyn, then Imam. Jack had been the last straw. Riddick had learned his lesson about forming emotional attachments to people. People died, and then he was alone. The best way to not be hurt was not to get close to anybody, pure and simple. People left and disappointed, it's just how it was and it was never going to change. Riddick ran a hand over the stubble on his head, pushing those thoughts to the back of his mind. He'd done enough thinking about the past. And it never got him anywhere. Now he was king of the Necromongers, and he needed to plan his next step.

Hah. Now that was an amusing thought. If those trigger happy mercs from the Company could see him now... Riddick chuckled.

He stopped outside the heavy double doors that proclaimed Lord Marshal, Esteemed and Most High Leader of the Holy Necromonger Armada in a flickering blue laser projection. He keyed in his pass code and the doors hissed open silently. Bliss, pure and simple. His rooms were completely dark and he welcomed that beautiful darkness with a satisfied sigh. He lifted his goggles to rest on his forehead and massaged his temples.

Ugh, what a day.

He ambled over to his huge bed and lay there, feeling his muscles loosen and relax. Whatever the Necromongers were, they didn't skimp on the simple pleasures of life. The bed Riddick slept in may have belonged to a dead man, but it was the most comfortable he'd ever been in. He allowed himself a moment to enjoy the feeling of his body going liquid and sinking into the cloud like softness of the bed. Heaven. Though he didn't allow himself to rest completely. In a hell full of power hungry psychopaths it wouldn't do let his guard down. Especially since Vaako would head back to his quarters at any moment now and would find his wife's corpse. And since he'd been the last person in the Vaako suite, he wouldn't put it past Vaako to attempt to assassinate him for seemingly killing his wife.

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Riddick sighed and lay still, feeling the darkness sing to him. Here he was completely at home. The darkness meant safety, it meant that while others would have trouble sneaking up on him, here he was in his element. Here he could rest. It wasn't perfectly safe but he had the advantage here and most of the time that was all that mattered. He didn't know how long he lay there, in a sort of catatonic state, but he was jerked out of it by a light pressure on his chest. His eyes shot open to find himself almost eyeball to eyeball with a strange rabbit like creature.

Chibbit, his brain told him, followed by, How the hell did it get in?

Riddick kept his eyes locked with the chibbit's and slowly reached for his shiv. He vaguely remembered reading somewhere that they were valued for their fur and intelligence and were used primarily as pets. It was probably someone's pet, though that still didn't explain how it had gotten into his room. His eyes slid around the room, then focused on the grates covering the air vents. Sonofabitch. Well, that was yet one more place to booby trap when he went to bed for the night. He looked back at the chibbit which was still sitting between his shins and twitching its whiskers at him. Ugh. He was not in the mood to deal with some dame's lap rat. He gripped the smooth cold steel handle for a moment, waiting a heartbeat before he slashed at it. Riddick was quick, but the chibbit was quicker.

It sprang from his chest to the floor and darted underneath the bed.

Riddick sat up and looked around, scanning everything to be sure that it hadn't left the room the way it had come in. His shined eyes revealed no chibbit. Riddick slowly leaned over the side of the bed. He was slightly surprised to discover the space under the bed devoid of chibbit. Wow, the little bastard was faster than he gave it credit for. Staring at the empty floor under his bed he rolled his eyes. This was getting irritating.

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He grabbed the headboard and pulled himself back up only to discover that the chibbit was back to its original position between his shins. They stared at each other a moment before Riddick snatched for it. It lept to the side, slightly faster, and he missed. He sighed. That's how it was, was it? Riddick made a show of dropping his shiv on the bedside table. Then he reached for it again.

The chibbit crept towards him and allowed itself to be picked up.

Riddick lifted up the chibbit, holding it under its front legs. Thick silky fur bunched up around Riddick's fingers while the rest of the chibbit's body down like a sack of fuzzy gray pudding. The chibbit seemed resigned to being held in such an undignified manner, though its ears flicked back and forth, clearly wondering what Riddick was going to do

Riddick studied it. It wasn't dangerous, but it could still be very annoying. He had an urge to feed it to one of those Necromonger zombies and see what would happen. Rat verses zombie, which would come out on top? He chuckled. Then the chibbit's little chain collar caught his eye. There was a thin blond curl wrapped in and around the delicate links.

Time seemed to slow down. His fingers reached for it and for some reason he seemed to have trouble breathing. He didn't know why, it was a damn lock of hair for cryin' out loud

Riddick slowly untangled the little curl of gold. He held it carefully, a little sliver of sunlight in the darkened room. Deja vu, he'd done this before. He raised it to his mouth and breathed in deeply, scenting it. He almost dropped it in shock. That was impossible. Impossible. He'd watched her die. But that familiar scent didn't lie. It overwhelmed his senses and made his lips tingle. His brain growled the name low and her face surged into his mind's eye. Carolyn Fry.

She was alive. He thought the dog alien freak had been messing with him. He knew the critter had some kind of telepathic abilities, hell, he'd felt the thing try to poke around. Riddick wasn't sure what all he'd gotten, it had been a long time since the psychos at Butcher Bay had tried to rattle his brain, and he was out of practice. He'd figured the freak had fed him the story to get a reaction, something, he wasn't sure. But this changed everything. Carolyn was alive.

Riddick wasn't sure what he was going to do, what that meant, but he did know he wanted her alive while he decided. Speaking of...

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Riddick examined the strand of her hair again, then the glanced at the chibbit.

It stared at him with its huge dark eyes, nose twitching then it deliberately sunk it's tiny teeth into his knuckle. For a moment they both sat there, then Riddick's brain registered the tiny twinge of pain. Oh no it did not just bite him. Riddick snarled at it and in one fluid motion, grabbed his shiv, only to find that the chibbit was now sitting expectantly at the door to his chambers. If an animal could look prim, this one managed it. It reached up and scratched the door, mewling.

Riddick sighed and slowly got to his feet. Alright, he'd play ball. It wasn't like he had anything better to do.

"You bite me again, all bets are off," he muttered.

Riddick pulled his goggles down securely over his eyes and made sure his shiv was stuck within easy snatching distance before he keyed open the door and stepped out into the hallway. There was no one around. Even fried out of their minds the Necromongers new better than to have their loud parties anywhere near their Lord Marshal's door. Riddick grinned. The fear was still going strong. He let the door hiss closed behind him, then on second thought he booby trapped the door into exploding. He had a niggling feeling he wouldn't be coming back, or that his new position as Lord Marshal might become precarious. Riddick had always found that when one was in doubt of one's imminent survival, leave presents. The exploding kind.

The chibbit had bounded ahead of him down the hall and was now looking at him. Riddick jogged after it.

"Whatcha' worried about?" he said, more to himself than to the critter he was following.

He grinned, thinking how amusing the scene they must be making. The all powerful Lord Marshal being led around on some wild ring around the rosie chase by a doxy's pet fur ball.

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The chibbit led him down halls, through corridors, and across rooms. There didn't seem to be a rhyme or a reason to its choices. It would skitter along a few paces, sniff the floors and the walls, and then change direction. Riddick frowned. It was following a trail, but what the hell kind of a trail went everywhere?

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Just when he was about to get fed up with the whole thing, they entered a wide open room at the head of a small staircase. Riddick stopped, listening. The chibbit had scampered forward, then stopped long ears twitching. Then it promptly scrambled back to him where it proceeded to hide behind his boots. Ah, so that's how it was then. Riddick wondered what it had led him in search of, and wondered what exactly would be getting its ass kicked this time. Heavy footsteps and the racing of feet sounded in the distance. He sighed. No wicked beasties, just people. A cry echoed up the stairwell followed by an angry roar. On a second thought, Riddick stepped to the wall and wrenched a curved scimitar from the hand of a stone statue.

He waited motionlessly.

The chibbit crept around behind him to peer cautiously out from behind his boots. Riddick glanced at it and laughed quietly at the sound of its small pink nose twitching. It looked up at him and tried to nip him through the heavy leather of his boot.

"Nice try," he said, "I'm not leaving now though, things are finally getting good."

He swung the sword, loosening up his wrist. He might not have to kill anyone, but it never hurt to be too cautious.

The sounds were coming closer and closer. He could hear softer booted footfalls mingled with the heavy clank armored military ones ones. He couldn't tell how many there were, and suddenly wished for a shooter. Oh well, it wasn't like he hadn't done this before, he'd make do. He could hear the sharp clang of metal on metal, and cocked his head. Whomever was being pursued wasn't totally helpless, though that unfortunate someone was breathing harshly as they struggled up the staircase, desperately trying to stay ahead of their pursuer.

He was not expecting to see the woman who came running like a bat out of hell past the top of the stairs

Carolyn Fry burst into view. Her face was flushed, her pupils were dilated in fear, and there was a dark purple bruise around her throat. All Riddick could think of at the moment was hot damn. He wanted to smack himself. Now was not the time to notice her pale skin or the way that damn dress hugged her sweet body like silver water, or the way her skin smelled like sweat and blood and woman. He swallowed, the only weakness shown.

She hadn't seen him yet. She reached the top but her foot caught on the last. Carolyn tripped and slid across the floor to lay sprawled at Riddick's feet. He watched her eyes level with his boots and then slide up his body to reach his face. At the last moment his eyes snapped to Vaako's. He would not let her catch him looking, no siree.

He was amused when her gaze lingered on his mouth. Interesting. It looked like he wasn't the only one that remembered the spark.

Vaako was watching them and Riddick knew the man had figured out that his wife had been ghosted. He was chasing Carolyn around because he figured she'd done it. And maybe she had, who knew? Riddick wondered how long it would take the man to crack. Duty to his wife? Or duty to the Lord Marshal, who was clearly standing between him and the prize. Choices, choices.

Vaako made his. "My...My Lord Marshal, this, this woman killed- MURDERED my wife, I demand recompense! Please...no, I demand that you give her to me!"

Riddick waited a moment, watching Vaako's wild expression. "No."

Vaako spluttered for a moment. "No?"

"No."

"Then," Vaako swallowed and licked his lips, "Then you would stand against me."

"So it would seem."

Riddick watched Vaako's face go from an angry purple with a vein throbbing in his forehead, to a dead white. He knew it wouldn't be long before his rage and sorrow at loosing his wife killed his sense of loyalty to his Lord Marshal. Riddick almost sighed. The line of people forming to get their ass kicked by Richard B. Riddick was long and ongoing and Vaako would not be the last. He smirked suddenly. Didn't mean he wasn't allowed his fun after all.

He bent and put his mouth to Carolyn's ear and reveled in her little shiver. "Hey babe? Wanna let me borrow your bag?"

She squeaked and he grinned. The animal in him stated that she was as good as his. Riddick told the animal to shut up. But he'd still be willing to consider the idea. Oh hells yes. Carolyn Fry was one sweet piece of spit fire ass.

He wound the heavy leather strap around his fist. Her bag was weighted. What the hell did she even have in there? The damn thing must weigh at least thirty pounds. Oh well, he'd ask her later, after he made Lord Vaako cry.

Vaako stared at him incredulously. "What is this? You're fighting me weaponless?"

"No," Riddick said, "I'm going to beat you to death with this lady's bag."

Vaako's mouth opened and closed silently, clearly wondering what the hell was going on. Then his gaze flicked to Carolyn's still body. Vaako had stopped looking at him and was now regarding the broken woman lying at Riddick's feet with a kind of insane hunger. Go for it buddy, go for it and see where it gets you.

Vaako went for it. His rage gained the better of him and he lunged at Carolyn. The blade whistled through the air like the breath of a specter as he moved.

Riddick grinned a feral little smile and stepped over Carolyn. Already Riddick was being suppressed by the brutal animal within. He was in his element now. This is what he was made for, what he was good at. He wasn't worried. This was going to be fun.

The fight was on.

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To be continued.