
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/10920279.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Underage
  Category:
      F/M
  Fandom:
      The_Chronicles_of_Riddick_Series, The_Chronicles_of_Riddick:_Dark_Fury
  Relationship:
      Jack_|_Kyra/Richard_B._Riddick
  Character:
      Richard_B._Riddick, Jack_|_Kyra, Imam_Abu_al-Walid, Carolyn_Fry, Junner_
      (Riddick), Antonia_Chillingsworth
  Additional Tags:
      Soulmate-Identifying_Marks, Minor_Character_Death, Extremely_Underage,
      Mutual_Masturbation, First_Time
  Series:
      Part 2 of The_Furyan's_Mate
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-05-21 Words: 9427
****** The Birth of Her Animal ******
by Ma3landra
Summary
     Sequel to Mine. The four of them survived the dark planet. Now to
     survive the merc ship.
Notes
     This is a work of non-profited fiction so please hold it as such and
     know I make no financial gain from this. Everything belongs to David
     Twohy, Tom Engelman, Jim and Ken Wheat, Vin Diesel, Rhiana Griffith,
     Keith David, Radha Mitchell, Roger L. Jackson, and Tress MacNeille.
     I’m just playing around with the characters and story plot.

      Please note THERE_WILL_BE_UNDERAGE_SEX. If that is not your cup of
      tea, then please don’t read after the SECOND basic horizontal line.
                       There will be no other warning.
     Also, I haven’t written anything sexual in a LOONNNGGGG time… Sorry
     if it’s underwhelming.
===============================================================================
Galactic Coalition Star-Date 2678.117

“Hull breach contained. Engines operating at 170% capacity. Engine and hull
failure imminent under current parameters.” In the dark reaches of space,
Riddick and the other three survivors huddled in the skiff listened to the AI’s
voice ring out ominously. Beeping and flashing lights were the repercussions
from the hook that had been shot through one of the already damaged wings. As
all of this was going on, everyone was thinking of Jack’s off-handed remark.
Could even be a merc ship. “Critical systems failure in five seconds… Four
seconds… Three seconds… Two seconds… One—” Riddick finally cut off the engines.

The convict looked back at Jack, steepling his fingers together. “First you’re
a boy, then you’re a girl, and now you’re a psychic. Careful what you wish for,
sweetness.” She grinned sheepishly at him.

A man’s voice came over the speaker. “Unidentified craft, state your purpose
and contents.” Fry looked nervously at Riddick from the copilot’s seat.
“Unidentified craft, state your purpose and contents.” The unknown man’s tone
had gotten sharper, more frustrated. “Unidentified craft, state your purpose
and contents.”

Finally, Riddick answered the call, keeping visual off. “Name’s Johns,” he
replied smoothly. “My ship got scrapped on a transport run. The only other
survivors from the whole mess are with me. Outside of that, we got nothing.”
Jack’s stomach growled, as if on cue and she flushed, hoping only those on this
side of the call had heard it. Two and a half days without even water to drink
was not the worst she had suffered with but it certainly wasn’t the best
conditions either.

“Tell me, Mr. Johns,” the voice came back to them, the tone oily. “What brings
you to this lonely corner of space?” Riddick could tell by the man’s tenor that
he did not believe the lie.

“I’m a bounty hunter.”

There was a pause. “Then it appears we have something in common.”

The ship jerked and the four passengers could feel themselves going backwards.
Fry’s face showed her panic. “They’re reeling us in,” she gasped,
unnecessarily.

Jack turned her face up towards Riddick, trust shining brightly in her hazel-
green eyes. After the last four days, she had utter faith for him to keep…
well, at least her safe. He lit up a handheld lighter and pressed the
sputtering flame to the lone surviving cutting torch as they heard metallic
noises echoing off the hull of the skiff. With the torch lit, the docking
pilot’s voice made him pause for only a second. “No offense but I don’t think
that’s gonna cut it against whatever it is that’s coming for us.”

He glanced at her. “Trust me.”

Then there was blackness as extinguishing foam flooded the cabin, pushing the
girl towards the ramp. Jack gasped and closed her eyes and mouth before the
stuff could blind or suffocate her, her arms moving through the thick lather
and touching a large body in front of her. The hand attached to that form
gripped her wrist and tugged her towards him, back into the body of the skiff
before he turned towards the ramp. The pressure suddenly gave and the convict
let her go, digging his boots into the grating beneath his feet and launching
himself forward. Insulated as they all were, the other three survivors could
hear the gunfire and screams even now.

Carolyn Fry had never been gladder to know that Richard B. Riddick, convicted
murderer, was on her side.

At least, for the moment.

Riddick moved through the foam, sinking his shiv into all the bodies that had
gotten stuck when the ramp opened. He heard Jack kick upwards, swimming to the
break the surface to suck in a fresh breath before he grabbed her back down,
narrowly saving her from being shot in the head. Imam was also successful in
refreshing his lungs. Carolyn Fry shouted when a bullet skimmed her cheek. The
blonde sunk back down before she could be wounded further, her blood saturating
the thick froth.

Freeing himself from the foam fully, the convict used the limited gravity to
whiz back and forth through the hangar bay and continue to kill all idiot fucks
who tried to tangle with him. The last one struggled to breathe beneath his
grasp and he froze, seeing the mostly white clad figure standing over Jack from
the corner of his eye, an enormous weapon pointed towards her forehead, the
added blade nicking her skin a bit. He snarled. He was going to have to teach
her so much to be able to keep up with him.

Riddick snarled, addressing the tall figure watching it all from above, “Call
off your lapdog before his trying to impress you gets him killed.” He ignored
the weak punches of the merc within his grasp.

The person, also clad almost entirely in white, a woman it turned out, replied
sultrily, “Am I so obvious?”

“Call it what you want, but tell him to stand down, now.” The animal, which had
risen to the surface for the fight, now had its hackles raised though there
would be nothing he could do if that bastard pulled the trigger.

The woman’s hood and then the rest of the cloak slid back on its own as she
replied, smirking, “You’ll have to excuse Junner’s excitement. It sometimes
makes him a touch… quick.” She made a movement of her hip as if to emphasize
this point. “Though I can’t say I blame him. You see, he’s just heard so much
about you… Riddick.” He tilted his head up further and glared at her through
his black lenses. “Yes, I know your name. Quite a bit more about you, I should
think.” She put her hand on her hip, taking on an air of smug superiority.

He sneered in response, keeping careful tabs on his Mate. “Careful,” he warned
her, voice deeper with bubbling rage. “You might just find what you’re digging
for.”

The woman lifted a shoulder. “I’m willing to share, of course,” she replied
silkily, “but I must ask that you surrender your weapon before any more of my…
apparently overpaid associates come to an untimely end.” The dozen and a half
bodies floated where they had died at the convict’s hand.

Riddick retorted, “Not gonna happen.”

“No?” Antonia Chillingsworth raised a brow, knowing she still that she had the
upper hand.

Riddick did not look at the thirteen-year-old as he stated, “The kid… is
nothing to me.” He hoped that the fact that he covered up her gender would help
her see through his lie. He was also not about to oust her again, if he could
help it. It was likely, if he died, she would be tossed around between the male
mercs before she was killed.

The woman goaded him. “Then enlighten me,” she purred. “Why would a stone-cold
killer such as yourself go through all of the trouble of keeping the likes of
him alive? Unless, of course… you’ve grown attached…?” Riddick realized there
would be no winning this but decided to continue to attempt to find a way out
anyway. Just in case.

“He’s a cover story, nothing more. You shoot him now and you’ll be saving me
the trouble.” Jack had tears in her eyes from the pain of the gun’s blade
pressed into her head, though she had yet to make a sound.

The woman continued to smirk. “Then I have your blessing?” It came out more as
a statement as she turned away. Finally, Jack whimpered quietly, the blade
gouging deeper. Hearing the trigger beginning to get squeezed, Riddick turned
about and threw his shiv with deadly accuracy at the gun before it could be
fired, which would in turn make the weapon explode should the bullet be
released. The woman threw a parting shot at the convict, her voice still as
haughty as ever. “Maybe I know more about you… than you do yourself.”

He was going to kill that self-righteous bitch.

He snarled after her, “Now just ain’t the time.” Riddick stood up and used his
foot to break the merc’s neck that he had been holding to the ground. He
ignored the call to be locked down and strode over to his Mate, snarling
quietly at one of the mercs he had missed who was manhandling her. He got an
elbow to his face for his trouble and had to resist going for the jugular
before Jack paid the price. Imam and Fry were also manhandled out of the
extinguishing froth and corralled closer to them. “Put your hands behind your
head, kid,” he growled, “and don’t resist them… too much.”

Jack hissed as a gun barrel was shoved painfully into her back, the metal
digging into a knob of her spine and cringed into the convict. He took note of
the brunet obese merc and made a note to kill him especially.

Being loaded onto a prisoner-transport cart, his wrists were shackled together
and then to the metal he was pressed back into, once he stepped onto the foot
rest. His neck was then strapped down as well as his ankles. The corner of his
mouth quirked when his girl looked over him in worry. He had been in hell of a
lot worse situations than this. At least they hadn’t insult to injury by
shoving another bit into his maw as well. Still, it was nice to have someone
care for him.

Finally, the four of them were led like cattle into the belly of the ship, the
mercs their over-armed shepherds.

Fry looked about in surprised if slightly horrified wonder as they passed
through the cryo hall where they could see thousands of mercs were suspended
within stasis tubes, all awaiting to be awakened and used for their deigned
nefarious purposes. “This is a merchant ship… it’s usually used for mining ore,
maybe crops, never people,” she muttered aloud. “Have either of you ever seen
something like this before?”

Imam shook his head while Riddick responded, “Merc ships? Plenty.” He continued
to turn his head back and forth while he took in everything and started to
build a sketchy plan together so he could at least grab Jack and escape. “Just
trying to figure out how it all goes together.”

“It is a plantation operation,” the Chrislam priest surprised them by his
wealth of information about such things. “A boat like this loads up at port,
signs on as many hands as it can hold, then goes out for months, maybe even
years. However long it takes to refill its stores.” The murderer hummed in
understanding. “Captured bounties on one side, contracted manpower on the
other.”

Fry added, “Just add heat.” Jack smiled wryly.

Riddick gave the older man his full attention. “You know a lot about this shit…
for a holy man.” It wasn’t a blatant accusation but the demand for an answer
was clear.

Imam shrugged. “I hear things.”

They exited the cryo hall and came to a fork in the road with only two options,
unless they wanted to go back the way they came. Jack finally spoke up, leaning
into Riddick, hazel-green eyes flitting between the mercs surrounding them. “So
what’s the plan?” When her Mate didn’t respond right away, she attempted a
different tactic. “…You’ll find me, right?” He met her gaze with his own and
the corner of his mouth quirked up in silent response. “Good, ‘cause – hey!”
she shouted as one of the mercenaries grabbed her and began to forcibly shove
her from the convict. He swallowed a growl, hearing her call after him, “If you
don’t find me, I’ll find you. I won’t leave without you, Riddick!”

The convict breathed out and promised that if they touched one hair on her
head, he was going to gut every single last one. The animal agreed vehemently.

“Set him down and leave.”

Riddick stretched his neck as he stepped off the prisoner transport after
having been released from most of his bindings. The manacles were still clamped
tightly about his wrists. He descended the steps and let out a noise of
surprise at seeing the architecture of the chambers he was in. In the center of
the room, expanding towards the ceiling, was a large, swirling platform with a
multitude of what appeared to be weirdly positioned figurines going up the ever
expanding spiral. He followed Junner some ways as he took in the artwork.
Coming to one of the effigies located on the floor around the gallery, he
furrowed his brow upon seeing a placard located on the plinth, inscribed with
Killer of Men; Furya.

‘Never heard of Furya,’ he thought to himself. The statue looked so lifelike.
He wondered what it was made of and reached up to touch the tongue in the mouth
opened partially in a silent yell only to see the appendage move slightly,
causing him to draw back his hand quickly.

Off in the distance, he heard the clink of a crystal goblet being placed down
onto a table. He turned his gaze toward the source of the noise, seeing doors
open upon Antonia Chillingsworth, only to grunt when something pierced the side
of his neck and a little metal object was imbedded. He snarled at Junner.
“Okay… now you have my attention.” And that was not a good thing.

The voice of the female called out from behind his back. “A necessary
precaution,” she assured him, sauntering towards the men. “You attempt
anything… uncivilized… killing me – for instance, and I detonate the explosive
charge Junner’s just implanted into your neck and sleep very well tonight.” She
smirked. “Now… walk with me.”

Seeing no other option, the convict did as instructed, though it grated heavily
upon his nerves.

“You’re not putting me on a pedestal,” he rumbled.

She glanced back at him, replying, “No, of course not. You will be strictly for
my private collection.”

“Okay,” Riddick muttered, “so you go through all the trouble to catch these
guys and this is what you do with them?”

Antonia smiled indulgently. “You’re missing the point,” she replied gently,
leading him deeper through the gallery.

He snorted. “What point?” he demanded, ever aware of Junner at his back. “You
got a million UD’s sitting around collecting dust.” When had the creed shifted
from greed?

“You underestimate their value, Riddick,” the woman insisted, pausing and
turning back towards him. “They are priceless. Each, at one time, the most
wanted man or woman of the known universe. The number of lives ended at their
hands of those living and breathing within this room is… incalculable.”

“Ain’t what I call living,” he reported instantly.

The woman caressed the nearest statue’s jaw even as she met his goggled gaze;
the flesh and muscles moved gently as it would were he unfrozen. “Just the
same, I assure you, they are all very much alive. Each one sustained in a form
of cryo so profound that seconds seem like weeks and to blink an eye is a day’s
work. The brain, however, continues to function unimpeded. The mind continues
to think and feel, swarming with whatever dark thoughts he or she are trapped
with as it will be for hundreds of years. So much more fitting than rotting
away in some isolated slam, don’t you think?” Antonia gave the cheek one final
pat, adding, “Here, they are appreciated for what they truly are…” She led the
two men through a curtained off area where a sumptuous viewing deck was set up,
a curtain hiding an arena below. “Transformed into objects on par with their
life’s work. And why? Because I gave them the audience they so desperately
desired. I gave them the recognition they bought with the blood of others. I
turned them into…” with a flouring of her arms, Chillingsworth announced,
“art!”

She had to be fucking kidding him. “Lady… your taste sucks.”

The woman lowered her gaze and sighed regretfully. “I expected as much.” She
shook her head and then met his eyes once again. “Come, I want to show you one
in particular.” She directed him over to one particular statuette by the chaise
lounge. There were two beings entangled together. It appeared to be the only
one of its kind. “This one is one of my favorites… for its sentimental value… A
Furyan warrior and his Terran lover.” There was that title again. “When we
captured him, he fought harder than ever before to protect his Soul Marked Mate
but he still could not defend her… or himself. Granted, I considered just
disposing of her as she is nothing but a regular, pathetic human but… the
romantic in me could not bear to see them separated. So, now they will be
together forever.” The frozen male had a look of utter rage upon his features
and he was half crouched, one of his hands supporting himself upon a waist-high
stone to his right. The other was wrapped tightly about the female’s throat,
her slim body laid helplessly beneath his own upon a shaped boulder, this one
large enough to be a natural chair and slanted to help prop her up and keep her
close but not touching her paramour’s body. The look of pain from having her
neck squeezed by the man she loved made Riddick want to snarl, mind instantly
flicking to Jack.

Before he could react, Antonia called the name of her lackey and the curtain
hiding the arena was lifted, though from his vantage point, he could only see
three chains hanging from the ceiling. ‘That had better not be what I think it
is,’ he thought, animal snarling.

“You see, Riddick,” the woman gained his attention once more, “there’s a
fundamental difference between you and I. You don’t appreciate art. But I
believe the reason for this is something very different than what you or anyone
else may think.” The convict jerked his head from her grasp. “You’re an
artist.”

She was kidding, right? “I’ve been called many things in my lifetime,” he
informed her. “That’s definitely not one of them.”

Chillingsworth explained. “You make art, Riddick, not analyze it. You shape it
with your own hands – carve it out of flesh and bone. But a man like you does
not understand something like this by being lectured. You must experience it
for yourself.”

Riddick turned his head to inspect the arena and cursed quietly to himself.
There, below, was Carolyn Fry, Imam Abu al-Walid, and Audrey Jacqueline Badd.
His Jack. Attached to the chains hanging from the ceiling were collars about
their necks and they three stood precariously on gigantic balls. One false move
and they would strangle themselves unless released, via unlocking the metal
noose or death.

“I knew you’d find me,” Jack called up to him, her voice shaking with nerves.

“What do you want?” Riddick snarled, not taking his eyes off his girl.

Chillingworth stepped up beside him. “To watch you work. To protect your own
Mate.” His muscles tensed. “Yes, the men found a Mark upon her flesh and I had
heard yours only appeared about thirteen to fourteen years ago. She is the
proper age and she is one of the sole survivors from the Hunter Gratzner’s
untimely crash into a planet marked for the MaCoy Company’s bio-weaponry
testing grounds.” That’s what those bio-raptors were? “Very creative of you,
shaving her head and dressing her as a boy. Alas, it was only a matter of time
before her secret was discovered with your handwriting upon the small of her
back no less. Now, you’ll have something to fight for. Now, to what I desire…
I’ve spent the latter half of my life observing fantastic things. The work of
terrible men. Men such as yourself. But… it’s always afterwards, when the
moment of bloody creation is cold and past.” She moved past him and to the
lounge. “That changes now.” She sat slowly as doors at the far end of the area
slowly opened. “I need to see it, Riddick. I need to see it with my own eyes…
as it happens.”

Riddick allowed himself to approach the woman, staring down at her with a
murderous look upon his face. “I get out of there alive,” he promised,
crouching down so there was less than a foot separating them, “and you’ll see
it again. This close.”

The woman had the audacity to smirk. “No, Riddick,” she gently maneuvered his
face away, the point of his shiv pressed into the underside of his jaw. “I want
your masterpiece.” He snapped upright, away from her. “An artist is nothing
without his instrument.” She tossed the weapon to the floor, beside his feet.
He retrieved it, appreciating the bio-raptor’s tooth even more now than he had
on the planet’s surface.

Seeing Junner standing protectively in front of Antonia, he made another
promise. “When we meet again, I’m going to bury this in your eye.”

Sliding his goggles up onto his forehead and turning away, Riddick prepared for
what was coming next. He took the merc that had touched Jack down into the
arena with him, using the fat man to break his fall. Immediately, he crossed
over to his girl, making sure she was alright for the moment before he turned
to the two open doors where his opponent would emerge.

“This is bad, isn’t it?” Jack murmured.

“Give it a minute.” Finally, he saw the creatures, both of them, and cursed
once again, this time internally. “Imam… pray.”

Carolyn was shaking upon her ball, being the closest one to whatever the
murderer would have to face off against and then cried out when they lit up,
their long tentacles glowing green, blue, purple, and pink. The merc on the
ground was also panting, sweating and crying because he also knew what they
were and he knew, instinctively, he was going to die.

The man fired off a few dozen rounds and paused, wondering if he had killed it.
The tentacles of one Shrill shot out, lighting up once more with its movement
and wrapped about his obese body, lifting it easily and bringing it closer to
its core. One of its stingers shot out and buried itself deep into his belly,
pumping its victim with acid, reducing the man to guts and gel.

Carolyn screamed, rolling her ball towards the other Shrill and grabbing her
noose to attempt to not choke herself. The creature dodged it and continued
forward, towards her. Riddick ran past the docking pilot’s kicking feet and
darted past two of the tentacles, slashing his shiv. The third arm caught him
in the stomach and sent him flying back into Jack’s only means of safety. The
girl screamed as the world shifted out from beneath her and she began to
suffocate from the metal noose digging deeply into her throat. Imam tugged his
cord and realized he could move himself about and rolled his ball beneath her
feet, slowing the sphere down so he didn’t put both of them in peril instead.

Meanwhile, Carolyn screamed once more until the second Shrill’s stinger pierced
her body and the blonde woman, the only female and surviving crew member of the
Hunter Gratzner was no more.

Having a better idea what he was working with, Riddick attacked once more,
slicing at the ends of the tentacles slashing at him from both sides
successfully nicking each one that came into his personal bubble. The first
Shrill came after the two remaining humans and Imam had better success in
rolling their ball and knocking the creature farther away from them. Still,
they struggled, as they had no support beneath their feet. Riddick snarled,
hearing the whimpers of his Mate and turned about, running, jumping, and
slashing the cords. The two fell and she panted, regaining her breath. “Get her
on her feet,” he commanded. Imam told the younger man he could not see. “You
don’t want to.” The convict turned back to the two creatures. He needed to get
this done, and soon.

The next slash of the closest creature’s tentacles helped break the manacles
around his wrists. This gave him a better advantage to finally dispatch one of
the Shrill, with the help of Jack who rolled one of the balls into the monster.
Good girl. He was snagged by the last remaining Shrill and struggled to break
free. He would not die here, like this. If he did, his Mate would surely die as
well. Gaining his strength, he tore one of the tentacles and called out to
Jack. She tossed him his shiv and he embedded it within the core of the
creature, ending its existence.

Riddick panted, tired from all this shit. He had not gotten decent enough sleep
on the skiff for the two days they had been in space because Imam snored and
his girl had been overly snuggly and he had seen more to her comfort than his
own.

He was going to enjoy that first bit of sleep he managed to get.

The lights turned on and forced Riddick to slide his goggles back over his
face. Chillingsworth complimented him. “The grace. The expression. The sheer…
violence of it all. Exquisite. Such a performance… That only leaves me with one
question… How will I ever have you mounted to do it justice?”

Jack tossed Riddick his shiv when the woman was not looking. The convict raised
his weapon, grunting quietly as he dug the explosive from his neck. The woman
cried out and reached desperately for the detonator. He tossed the tiny bomb,
grabbed his Mate and ran. The force still knocked him down. Jack helped him
back up and the three remaining took off running, soon finding themselves in
half-grav. He used his momentum and his powerful legs to continuously launch
himself forward, glancing back every once in a while, to make sure him Mate was
keeping up. She was struggling. Another thing to add to the list they would
have to work on.

Reaching regular gravity levels, Riddick found an air duct to the next level.
Pulling himself up, he reached down and pulled Jack up easily. Her arms about
his neck as he lifted her, he indulged for only a second, his large hands
cupping her backside and squeezing gently, fingertips brushing the place he
wanted to bury himself most. The girl gasped quietly, face going pink and her
arousal blossoming within her scent. He quickly sat her down, feeling her put
some distance between them and reached for the Chrislam priest to hoist him up
as well.

Riddick set the grating to rights and led the way. A growl rumbled out through
the corridor. “What the hell was that?” Jack asked.

“Don’t move.”

A second roar then the rhythmic thumping of metal encased legs. Fuck. He
hurried them forward and launched himself up onto a platform. On hands and
knees, he reached for his Mate. A spotlight fell upon her back. “What the
hell?” she cursed, crying out as shots were fired in their general direction.
Thinking fast, Riddick jerked her up, letting go of her hands only to grab her
by her belt and haul her bodily upwards and out of harm’s way.

Riddick rolled them further out of the danger zone and crouched over her,
lifting his goggles to better inspect her in the dim lighting. She sucked in a
breath and brushed his side where he was bleeding. “Just a graze,” he assured
her, smelling no fresh blood from her.

Getting to his feet, he told the two others to run and to not stop.
Unfortunately, his mate, with her shorter legs and weaker stamina couldn’t keep
up. He made a decision and waited for the holy man and his mate. “We cannot
stop,” Imam panted, hands on his knees beside the convict.

“We’re not outrunning this thing. Not the three of us.”

Jack lumbered to a stop a moment later, her breath also heavy, though not for
the reasons he wanted. “What? I can keep up!” she insisted, desperate to not
disappoint him.

He shook his head. “Maybe someday,” he retorted. “Just not now.” He looked
about and listened hard. “Get her to the flight deck,” he instructed the
Chrislam priest. “Just aft, up a level.” He gestured to a crevice. “Stow in
there and let whatever’s following pass first. Then make for the flight deck
and don’t look back. No matter what you hear.” Jack froze and looked up at him
with horror in her hazel-green eyes. “Don’t,” he grunted, smelling the building
salt stink as her eyes took on a shine of tears at the implication of his
possible abandoning her. He grasped the back of her neck, thumb resting over
her fluttering pulse, and pressed their foreheads together. “I promise,” he
muttered quietly, meant only for her to hear, “I will always come find you…
even if it takes a while.” He sealed him promise with a brief kiss. Then shoved
her into the gap next to Imam and took off running, slicing his arm for added
bait.

Four people ran past a few minutes later before a giant creature came next,
roaring horribly. Imam waited until there was deafening silence and snuck out
into the corridor, making sure the coast was clear before gesturing for the
girl to slide out into the open beside himself. “We have to help him, Imam,”
Jack whispered, staring in the direction everyone and thing had gone. “We can’t
help him if we leave.”

The holy man laid a gentle hand upon her shoulder. “Sometimes, little one,” he
murmured, “that is exactly how it works.” He sighed. “I know I was not supposed
to hear this… but he did promise to find you. I think, even though he knows the
harshest forms of life, he would never lie. Not to you.” Jack bit her lip and
hugged herself. Then she nodded and followed after the Chrislam priest as they
headed for the hangar bay.

Imam opened a panel that allowed him into the hangar bay through the floor and
began to pull himself through, only to get bashed in the head. He grunted as he
collapsed out of the way. Jack, not understanding what was happening, peeked
her head out, only to gasp as she was wrenched upward violently. Coming face to
face with the overly pale merc who had shoved a gun against her forehead, anger
bubbled up inside her and she slammed her fists into his face. He didn’t even
flinch. Instead he stepped over the access hatch and closed a strong hand about
her throat, slamming her bodily into the side of one of the many ships docked
and ready for dispatching. The girl choked against the unyielding grasp, giving
him the bird before punching weakly against the forearm in vain.

“Let her go,” came a rough snarl. The man turned his gaze over his shoulder,
seeing the murderer approaching. “It’s me you’re after.” Junner released the
girl, letting her slide down to the floor. She smacked her head and slid into
unconsciousness. “You want a shot at the title?”

The merc undid his jacket and threw it off to the side before taking his
stance, his gun drawn. Riddick pulled out his much smaller shiv and the dark-
haired man released his katana from his weapon, throwing the rest away, making
it more of a fair fight. They observed each other and the convict moved in
first, kicking the sword to the side and slashing at the merc, only to miss
once… twice… three times. Junner got a punch in, making the shorter man stumble
back a few steps, though he recovered quickly. He dodged a swipe of the long
blade and got his own shot in.

The two squared off again.

Jack jerked to wakefulness and jerked upright, disoriented at the sounds of
flesh meeting flesh, brutally. Her vision cleared and she blinked, trying to
figure out what she was seeing. Her Mate was taking on the dark-haired
scarecrow. Punches, kicks, swipes. The two were nearly evenly matched and her
heart pounded in her chest, partly from worry, partly from excitement at
getting to see him in action. The other kids back on Taurus 1 would never
believe her if she were to meet up with them again and tell them she got to see
Richard B. Riddick in action, unless he was right there with her. There was a
moment when her Mate’s shiv got thrown away that had her sucking in a sharp
breath, but he evened the score once more by twisting the man’s arm and causing
him to drop the katana. Punches, kicks, and the occasional chops were traded
next, only for the taller man to gain the upper hand, kicking Riddick back into
a tool stand. He dropped to the floor with a pin filled grunt. A coil landed on
the ground beside him and Jack wondered what he was going to do next.

Riddick picked up the thick wire that controlled the lighting of the hangar bay
and looped it about Junner’s throat just after her picked up his katana once
more, pulling tight. Predictably, the coil was cut and the merc realized his
mistake a moment too late. The brightness in the hangar bay died. Jack had a
second for utter terror to race through her, mind snapping back to the planet
they had escaped, phantom sonar of the hungry bio-raptors ringing eerily in her
ears.

A pain filled cry, too high in tenor to be Riddick’s snapped her back to the
present. The emergency lighting slowly flickered back on, just in time for her
to see the pale man fall back, dead as a doornail, the convict’s shiv embedded
deeply into his left eye.

“I told you that was coming,” Riddick muttered to the corpse, retrieving his
weapon and wiping the blood off onto the fresh corpse’s white pants, staining
the pristine material. He turned just in time to see Jack running up to him.
Her arms encircled his neck and her body collided with his. He grunted, feeling
fresh bruises forming on his strained muscles. Still, he could not deny her.
Especially as she pulled back with worry clear in her gaze. The convict hummed
quietly, kissing her forehead in silent assurance. “Go check the holy man.”

Jack turned to do as she was bid. “Where are you going?” were his first words,
seeing the dark clad figure walking away from himself and the child.

“Gonna prep the ship and get the hell off this heap,” the younger man replied,
holding onto his bicep where he hoped the humerus wasn’t fractured, though with
the pain radiating from there, he was not so sure.

“So… we… can escape?” Imam knew, that if the convict truly wanted, he could
either leave him there and take off with his young Mate or… kill him and still
take off with his young Mate. The Chislam priest was the extra baggage and it
was no guarantee that he would be leaving this place. Riddick surprised him by
waving him to follow along.

Imam smiled slightly. “And that… Mr. Riddick, there is my god.” The convict
paused, remembering that particular conversation, and laughed. Jack glanced
between the two men, not understanding their conversation from when they had
been loading the cells into the skiff. Turning to the girl, he added, “It is
over. We have survived once more.”

Riddick twisted the locking mechanism on the outside of the ramp to the small
ship. It opened and in the entrance to the cargo hold stood Antonia
Chillingsworth, looking less than her immaculate self as she had maybe only two
or three hours previous. She was panting, her face contorted in utter rage. In
her hand was an old fashioned revolver.

BANG!

Riddick fell back with a painfilled noise. “Back to hell with you, you bloody,
stinking savage!” she screamed manically. She came closer, leveling the weapon
to kill Richard B. Riddick once and for all.

BANG!

The woman fell back, her neck pouring blood while a starburst splatter of the
copper-stinking fluid decorated the side of the ship. The convict turned,
confused as to who had pulled the trigger, first thinking that perhaps the holy
man might have surprised him. Instead, he witnessed his Mate slowly lowering
Junner’s discarded gun. “Yeah…” she mumbled, hazel-green eyes flashing as her
animal was born within her, “we made it.”

‘Her first kill,’,Riddick realized absently.

He stepped towards her slowly, and gently clutched her about the back of the
neck once more, careful of the still smoking weapon between them. “Thank you,”
he murmured, leaning over her and kissing her forehead. She lifted her gaze,
the animal settling back down upon recognizing their Mate. “You did good. You
saved me.” He stressed that last sentence. Her shoulders sagged and she dropped
the gun to her side, suddenly pressed into him once more, animal hidden inside,
seeking comfort which he gave. He purred gently for her for a minute.

Imam broke their moment. “We should probably leave soon… before someone else
comes.”

Riddick kissed her forehead once more and led the way inside, Jack and the
Chrislam priest trailing behind him. He could both hear and see his girl begin
to grow sluggish, the way her shoulders drooped and her feet began to drag
along the deck. He closed the ramp, sealing them inside and suggested her to
explore and find somewhere for them to bunk down in. The ship was large enough
to have at least one. She nodded, still gripping the gun as she did as
instructed.

Imam sat heavily beside Riddick once they had put the giant merc ship to their
rudder. He spoke his name to make sure he had the convict’s attention.
“Trouble?” There had better not be. He turned to look but nothing seemed out of
the ordinary. Heard nothing to raise suspicion.

“It is nothing back there,” the holy man assured him as well. “What worries me…
lies ahead of us.” He turned his head away from the goggled gaze. His Mate?
“Yes… I… I am… concerned for her, Riddick. That she’ll become…” Words failed
him here.

His animal wanted to growl. He attempted to keep his voice even. “Like me?”

The man had the sense to look sheepish. The convict took his booted feet from
the console and turned fully towards the Chrislam priest, shiv still in its
resting place within the pocket of his pants. “I’ll say this once,” the convict
growled. “Jack is mine. She is my Mate. It was only a matter of time before she
gave birth to her own kind of animal. There’ll be no converting her now. And
unless you can learn to live with that, there’s a second way off this ship for
you.” Imam sighed and put his hands up in peace.

One of the consoles beeped and the men both looked at it. A read out of the UV
galaxy popped up. “What is that place?” Imam asked.

Riddick switched it to their first stopping point, Hellion Prime, where he
would be able to refuel and gather the things he would need for Jack and
himself as they found a place to hide out for a bit to start her training
before moving on. “That’s nowhere,” he insisted quietly. “I’m dropping you off
at New Mecca.” He pressed a few more buttons to get them to put more distance
between the three of them and the merc ship. He added, “Go find if there’s
another bunk and get some sleep. It’ll be a few days before we get there.”

Recognizing the dismissal, Imam shambled down the corridor and out of sight.

Finally putting the ship on autopilot, with all sensors tuned to pick up
anything that might come in range – meteors or comets, other ships, anything –
Riddick followed Jack’s scent and discovered the room she had chosen for them.
He closed the door behind himself, then picked up the sounds of the shower
running. He smirked, dimming the lights to a tolerable level of the bedroom
upon entry. The room was small and unadorned. The full-sized rack sat in the
middle of the left wall, facing outward toward the only other doorway, with two
drawers built in beneath. He figured it would be safe to assume there was a
second set on the other side. On either side of the bed were shelving units
built into the walls. It was here he tossed his goggles before he sat down onto
the tick mattress, which sunk gently under his weight. The shiv went beneath
one of the thick pillows while he could see the gun propped against the bed and
the wall on the other side.

Her side.

The man’s heavy boots each hit the deck plate with a ka-thunk. He stood back
up, nearly groaning at the feeling of his feet being freed from the confines of
his shoes for the first time in… a long time. His spine popped like a hundred
kernels of corn in a pan as he stretched. Peeling off his clothes, he tossed
them by the already established pile she had made with hers by the doorway.
He’d figure out what to do with them all later. Maybe there was a wash machine
tucked away somewhere. He wouldn’t have Jack running around in nothing. Not in
front of Imam, at least. Right now, though, a shower sounded amazing. A shower
with his Mate, on the other hand… The blood in his body suddenly had a focal
point to flow towards.

It had been so fucking long…
===============================================================================
Riddick flinched when he opened the door to the bathroom and saw how brightly
lit it was. He lowered the illumination in here as well, seeing her look up in
surprise through the translucent glass door of the shower stall. The bathroom
was warm and steamy. The mirror was half-fogged up. “I hope you saved some for
me, baby girl,” he rumbled out.

Jack opened the door and shyly peeked up at him with pink cheeks. She pushed
back into the far corner to make room for him. It gave him the chance to look
her over. His animal was… displeased – not with her, but the condition she was
in. Seeing her now in all her naked glory, her limbs were a touch too thin to
be healthy and as he had suspected, her ribs, while not protruding were almost
visible. Her chest was near board-flat, with only the slightest bit of extra
tissue around the small areolas, though her hips and buttocks had an extra
layer of tissue. Once he got her fed regularly, he figured she would begin to
fill out nicely.

Riddick sighed in quiet relief of the steam swirling about him, stepping into
the shower and closing the cold door behind himself. He shuffled beneath the
hot spray and closed his shined eyes, the water pounding down onto the
tightened muscles in his shoulders and back before coursing down over the rest
of his sore body in rivulets, dragging off the top layer of dirt, sweat, and
blood with it. Jack looked at the floor and let out a breath of a laugh,
causing him to search for the source of her amusement. “You’re even worse off
than I was,” she grinned sheepishly. She was indeed correct; the puddle of
water swirling about their feet was darkening quickly with all the dirt and
blood coming off of the convict before it ran down the drain.

Through half lidded eyes, Riddick watched the wisp of a girl before him as she
took the already sudsy loofa and added a bit more gel to it, the smell of
chemically produced sage reaching his nose. Not unbearable though. Hazel-green
eyes flitted up towards him. Cautious. Hopeful. Nervous. The man nodded his
permission, watching as she slowly pressed the soap covered poof against his
defined abdominal muscles and gently swiped it over his skin. “You’ll have to
scrub harder than that,” he chuckled. He gently took her wrist and applied
pressure, guiding her in the way he knew he needed to actually be cleaned. Her
confidence regained itself and soon she was scrubbing at the desired pressure.

The animal in him purred as his Mate took care of him, though he tried to
swallow his amusement that she had yet to scrub his genitals. She hadn’t shied
away from his legs or his backside, though. Finally, her shoulders squared and
the loofa dipped down. He couldn’t hold back the groan at the coarse feel of
the poof over him. She froze eyes wide. “Didn’t hurt me,” he assured her
quickly. “Haven’t been touched there for a long while.” He heard her swallow
but she began to scrub him once more under his direction until he was fully
clean.

The loofa slipped from her fingers and Jack paused. “You can touch me,” Riddick
rumbled out, anticipation beginning to build within him. The girl didn’t
hesitate this time as her fingers brushed over the hardening flesh. He
swallowed a hiss.

So, so, so fucking long…

He reached down and gently wrapped her small fingers around his shaft. He let
out a heavy breath as she twisted her grip around him, inspecting him. She made
a noise as her touch discovered the large vein on the underside of his dick and
ran her digits up and down it, feeling it out.

“That’s good,” he encouraged his Mate, voice a bit hoarse. “Like that.” He let
out a groan as she tightened her fingers a bit about his length. “Good girl.”
He reached out and cupped her backside, bringing her a step closer to him so
her side brushed his own. She trembled despite the warm water and glanced up
shyly beneath her thick lashes. Her movements slowed. “Don’t fucking tease,” he
growled out, desperate for the continued pleasure. He let out a hiss as one of
her fingers rounded about the head of him and swiped the bead of pre-cum from
his slit. She peered at the white substance and lifted it to her mouth, licking
it with a frown. His hands jerked, reaching behind himself and finding purchase
with the metal bar attached to the wall so he did not grab her and suddenly
bury himself deep inside. He wanted to get more in the future and it would not
do to scare her.

“I’m not hurting you, am I?” Jack asked quickly.

“No, fuck no,” Riddick nearly snarled, his cock harder than he could remember
in a long time. It strained, thick and darkened towards his Mate, silently
begging for her returned attentions. “That feels so fucking good.” Then he got
an idea. “Lean against me,” he moved her how he wished, “like this. Now step a
bit closer and spread your legs a bit.” He ran his fingers down her knobby
spine to the small curve of her ass. “If you don’t like something, or if it
hurts, you tell me to stop.” Jack nodded.

Reaching past her backside, Riddick found her anus and passed it. Not that he
wasn’t interested in breaking that in… eventually… but he had been able to
smell the innocence on her skin since he first scented her. Now that he had
her, he had nothing but time to teach her not only all the different ways to
give and receive pleasure but also finding out anything and everything that
pushed her to that brink of insanity.

Fingering her labia, the convict felt the natural juices slicking her up. Jack
shuddered but spread her legs a bit wider, her hand faltering only slightly in
its movement over his length, her breath catching. He smirked and allowed his
index finger to penetrate the outer lips. He groaned; she was tight. He was
going to have to go slowly after giving her at least one orgasm so her muscles
wouldn’t be so tense. This would be a first for him. Pressing his finger a bit
deeper, he slowly pulled it out before repeating the process. Jack’s breath
puffed heavily across his chest, her grip tightening spasmodically over him and
causing him to grunt at the pressure. His balls were already beginning to
tighten. He was going to up his game if he wanted her finish right along with
him.

Pulling his hand from where it circled around her, Riddick grinned at the
displeased noise that clawed out of Jack’s throat, her eyes flicking up to his
own. Her pupils were blown wide. Instead of continuing to circle around her
back and between her legs, he caught her around the small of her back, reached
over her far hip and touched her from the front, his index delving right back
inside of her as his thumb found her clitoris. Jack cried out, her body
stiffening at the feeling shooting through her.

Riddick’s ego swelled up a bit as her hips thrust against him, her grip
spasmming over his penis almost painfully. Circling the nub, he pressed a
second finger into her hot, pulsing depths, the muscles beginning to tighten
even more as he brought her closer to the edge.

“Riddick,” her voice came out in a breathy whine, eyes clenched tightly closed.

“Don’t fight it,” he growled voice deeper and rougher than ever before. “Ride
it out with me.” She was panting heavily, hips pressing against his hand as her
own jerked back and forth over him. He let out a roar as his peak hit, hearing
Jack let out her own nonsensical cry as her vagina tightened painfully around
his fingers.

Riddick’s grip tensed about his Mate as her legs gave out, his own protesting
the added weight. He slid them to the shower floor, arranging her into his lap,
the only sounds being the shower water hitting them and the tile and their
ragged breathing. “Is it always like that,” Jack sighed, head tucked into the
crook of his neck and shoulder.

The convict chuckled. “It gets better, sweetness,” he promised. Struggling, he
lifted them both and shut off the water, everything protesting against movement
and activity. He dried the pair of them half-heartedly and trudged them both
into bed. Putting himself between his Mate and the door, Riddick felt her
snuggle up against him, her naked body sliding deliciously against his own. He
smirked, her breathing having already evened out. Wrapping an arm about her, he
called for the lights to go full dark. His animal purred finally content and he
allowed himself to slip into the void of dreamless, refreshing sleep.


When Riddick woke next, it was to a soft touch gently tracing over the Mark
tattooed above his heart. Keeping his eyes closed and breathing even, he
allowed his Mate to do as she wished. She made a quite hum and he could smell
her giddiness on her skin. She wanted to do something and he had a feeling he
knew what, but she was hesitating. The convict let out a sigh, as if he was
still unconscious and shifted his body, drawing the sheets down lower upon them
with his feet. He heard Jack gulp.

The man had to bite the inside of his cheek when he felt Jack’s hand slowly
move through the thatch of hair surrounding his penis before lighting onto the
beginning erection. She ran her fingers over him in continued exploration, her
breathing picking up slightly as his dick responded to her touch, slowly
hardening beneath the smooth skin casing. Abandoning her examination of his
shaft, her fingers wandered down to his testicles, gently prodding them and
testing their weight.

Riddick let out a soft moan as her thumb pressed between them, massaging him.
“Keep that up, baby girl, and I’m going to pin you to the bed,” he rumbled out,
breaking the silence. Jack froze for only a second and he could feel the heat
build in her cheeks upon his chest at having gotten caught. He breathed in and
smelled her arousal. “I think you want me to,” he growled.

Jack slowly propped herself up and met his gaze, her cheeks flushed, pupils
getting bigger, and her scent becoming more enticing. She nodded, swallowing.
That was all he needed.

Riddick sat up abruptly, bringing her with him and pushing her to kneel beside
him. He slanted his mouth over her own, tasting, dominating. Her hands had
jerked up immediately to his shoulders and one of his hands draws them further
over, pulling her closer before grabbing her naked thigh and helping her swing
over his own. He pressed her chest to his own as his tongue invaded and
conquered her mouth, finding every nook and cranny and then teaching her tongue
how to dance with his own. He rubbed both hands down her back, settling on her
hips and slotting her over him. He could feel the dampness already building as
he pressed his length against her, but not inserting. Not yet.

Instead, Riddick guided her hips back and forth above him, slicking his penis
up as her arousal grew. Keeping on hand at the flare of her waist, the other
lifted and brushed the little areola, feeling her stiffen at the unexpected
touch. “Good?” He had to make sure.

Jack nodded. “Yes,” she panted, pupils blown wider. “I…” she let out a shaky
breath, grinding her hips against his cock. “I need… something…” She sounded
embarrassed that she didn’t know but he did. He promised that he would take
care of her.

“I got you, sweetness,” he assured her, kissing her between her eyes.

The slippery wetness of his cunt has him drenched now and he knows it will
slide a bit easier. Still, he will have to go slow despite this being the best
feeling he had experienced in years. Lifting her easily with one hand, he took
hold of his rigid cock with the other and aligned himself with her entrance,
slowly slipping himself inside. He paused every inch, watching her face for
discomfort and it was killing him. All he wanted, desperately, was to sink
himself deep inside of her and have her ride him until they both climaxed.

Jack suddenly moved and Riddick found himself impaling her fully. She whimpered
and stiffened as the sudden bite of fresh copper reaches his senses. Tears
built in the corner of her eyes. “It won’t hurt after this,” he promised her,
rubbing her spine gently. She nodded.

Tucking a finger beneath her chin, Riddick kissed her once more, determined for
her to be distracted from her pain. She gave herself fully into it, humming
happily. Her hips shifted and she let out a quiet moan. He smirked and finally
began to thrust, though he kept them slow and shallow as to gauge her for any
residual pain. Her green-brown eyes are dark but there seems to be no
discomfort, not anymore. In fact, she began to push back and he has to swallow
a snarl of desire.

When his name began to become a prayer on her panting throat, Riddick sped up
his thrusts, gripping her hips harder and pressing as deeply as he could go. He
can feel her getting tighter. Her eyes flash wildly and he can see the animal,
her animal rearing up inside her, soaking up the pleasure. She needs just a
little more. One of his thumbs reached down and swiped over her swollen clit.
Jack was suddenly crying out his name and her whole body began to shudder above
him. The convict felt his own balls draw up – just a few more strokes, just a
few more –and let out a roar as he found his end, joining her in ecstasy. The
light that flashed behind his eyes was purple and blue, brilliant, almost
agonizing, but he could care less as the pure pleasure moved through every inch
of his body, making it all sing.

Jack was once more draped over his chest as he came back to himself. He smirks,
realizing he was still buried inside and not quite flaccid. “Told you it got
better.” His voice might have been a touch smug.

“You’re right,” she nodded, meeting his gaze. “It does…” She shifted against
him and paused. “Did you not…?”

He smirked. “Oh, I did,” he assured her. “I’m just ready for round two.” Jack
smirked and he could see her animal grinning right along with her.
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