Treacherous

The cold held everything within its grasp in deadly talons. Warmth, body heat was not only necessary to survive, it was a luxury that the climate left few with.

The hostile temperature should have been enough, but U.V. Planet 6 specialized in overkill. The sun was huge, a giant ball that almost seemed to fill the sky at times. Its weak light was a deceiving promise. No warmth could be gotten from the wavering blue rays of light. The few hours it showed itself were outnumbered ten to one. Crippling storms ravaged the surface more than they didn’t. The pathetic sun blocked out by swirling white snow and blasting cold temperatures. Rarely was snow not falling to some degree, the ceaseless wind carried it away to dark fissures in the planet’s surface.

Wildlife was threatened, yet adapted. Smaller creatures scraped out survival by nibbling on the lichen that grew on bare stone. Only a couple different species, but their numbers were high. The lichen grew everywhere, and fast. When the sun shown the plant-like coating on any exposed rock could literally be seen moving, growing, spreading. The rabbit-like creatures that ate the material were fast and hard to catch, but very tasty. Their thick fur, the hairs interlocking against the cold, was the exploited necessity that had kept Riddick alive in the beginning. A layer of their pelts stitched together could hold in enough of his body heat to cause him to work up a sweat.

He wasn’t the only thing hunting the speedy hairballs. U.V.6’s predators made Riddick feel like an amateur. There were only two species that he’d seen, but they held the top end of the food chain easily. One was cat-like. Thick fur, powerful body, sharp retractable claws, a mouthful of daggers, sensitive hearing, the ability to jump meters, and size. The largest one he’d seen had to have been pushing three hundred kilos. They’d face each other over a distance, and then the cat had gone the other way.

In the time he’d been on U.V.6 he’d tangled with a few of the smaller ones, the biggest around two hundred kilos. Kitty had more fur than brains. He’d come out bleeding and exhausted, but sporting a nice new fur coat.

The other carnivore he’d seen was straight from the pages of Earth lore. The ‘abominable snowman’ lived on U.V.6. Well, at least it *had.* Showing some characteristics of a primate, it was aggressively territorial. Riddick had only seen the one and had made short work of the creature. Its adaptations to the cold were quickly utilized. The pads of its feet were so rough they could shred skin. Lopped off and cleaned up, they made boots that let him walk easily on ice, even slopes and climbing.

Fuel for cooking was the worst difficulty he faced. Bones burned, but only at very high temperatures. So he’d had to find another regular source of heat. Something had once lived on the planet that had left its roots behind. He’d found wood-like roots deep beneath the surface. Getting to them and getting them out was the fun part.

The provisions Bell had dropped helped to solve the problem. The first drop of supplies had been big, and had been loaded on a makeshift sled. Smart girl. His cave was miles from the crash site. The sled was now what he used to gather wood from beneath the fingerprint terrain.

Knowing she knew where he was had driven him mad for months. But when no more provisions were dropped, he’d settled. Maybe she’d just guessed? Then six months after the first drop there’d been another. By that time he’d been scraping by for long enough to be thankful for the supplies. He had little choice in her knowing, and didn’t trust her to not sell him out, but wasn’t able to do a damn thing about it either. At least she wasn’t moving in!

As the years passed, he knew if she’d been guessing in the beginning, she knew now. The supplies came regularly, three or four months apart. She was being careful, not landing in the same spot or leaving any sort of communication. Accept the fruit. Leave it to a woman to fucking give him sweets. He had to heat the cans to eat them, but they were good warm too. He’d fuck her for every can when he ever saw her.

His trips underground took hours. His layers were thick enough to keep him warm, but his breath froze to his skin and beard. A scarf helped, but when he was working he had to watch his back and couldn’t wear it.

Pulling the sled behind him, he emerged from the tunnel that lead underground looking something like an abominable, as he called the thing. His den was in a mountain surrounded by the fingerprint-looking ground. Unladen, he could cross the field of icy ridges easily. Pulling the weight of the sled made it dangerous. Slipping would be fatal for more than one reason. A twisted ankle had nearly made him a victim of one of the cats in the beginning.

Halfway across and he suddenly felt the need to run. He was sprinting before he knew why. Looking back, trying to target what had felt wrong, he saw it.

A second later the rush of air backwashing from a ship nearly pushed him off balance. He looked up to see a four-man skiff banking hard to come back around at him. Mercs. Someone was going to pay. The image of the only person that knew where he was came to his mind. Bell. Somehow she’d led them to him and he hoped it had been done under pain of torture.

o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o

Bell limped from the door that kept her prisoner. Steel and plexiglass. She kicked and punched the door until her hands and feet hurt. Screamed and cursed till nothing was left but a hoarse whisper. Most of her nails had broken as she’d tried to pry at lock or hinges, anything to break the seal.

She slumped to the floor of the bare room and scrubbed her bleeding hands over her forehead. This was not fucking happening!

They’d been making a normal stop. The skiff retrieval was routine. Ramsay had stayed aboard like always.

She’d been gone an hour, maybe a little more. As she’d neared the ship she’d pinged Ram to let him know to open the cargo bay. Nothing. Again, this time she’d spoken to him. No response again.

She’d been dropping down, bringing the skiff in to land, cause obviously something was going on. The ship was gone.

The possibilities had ticked through her brain in rapid fire. What could have made Ramsay take off? How was she going to find him?

Climbing out, she’d run to the control booth. The ship taking off would have been recorded, and hopefully some communication to explain why. The why had cracked her on the head as she’d passed through the door.

Darkening vision had seen uniforms surrounding her as she’d sank to the floor. The unmistakable insignia of the Universal Defense Militia had made her scream, though she couldn’t say if it had been out loud or just in her head.

Now she had no idea how long she’d been out or what the hell they could want.

The UDMC was all about power. Greed followed as a close second in their line up of prestigious attributes. They controlled the universes military, a self-governed big brother whose motto evolved from ‘serve and protect’ to ‘control and intimidate’.

The only connection she could think of was Riddick. He’d served for almost three years in the Militia. They had a specialized corps made up entirely of convicted criminals. Some serving their whole lives rather than be incarcerated. Riddick had been recruited from slam in his late teens. She knew very little about his time in the military. Basically just that he had served and for how long. He’d been ‘dishonorably discharged’ and then dumped in an even worse prison than the one he’d been serving his time in, the Ribald Ess Penal Facility, a double-max slam.

Had they tracked her to U.V.6? Did they know that she knew where Riddick was? Did they have him as well? It tore at her guts to think that she might be the cause of his capture. Ramsay had warned her against repeatedly returning, but she’d ignored him, dropping supplies to him a total of twelve times over the five years since T2. The last time had been about nine weeks ago. She’d seen no other ships in the area, and her ship hadn’t detected anything out of the ordinary.

She stood, her repeating thoughts making her agitated. She needed to do something. She needed *out*! Through the reinforced glass she could see down a short hallway. What she saw made her scream and run at the door.

o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o


**No one ever said writing is easy. I'm working diligently on this, folks. Sorry about the delay! And thank you all for the feedback! It puts a smile on my face, thank you!