Right Hand

DISCLAIMER: If I owned Riddick, I think I'd be scared. If I owned Vaako, he'd be locked in my closet :P So since I'm not scared and my closet is full of boring clothes I OWN NOTHING!

~thoughtful~
'actual thoughts'
*emphasis*

CHAPTER TWO

“Your presence is requested in the High Chambers.” They were courteous enough - Wulia shook her arm away from Vaako and stepped toward them, all smiles.

“The Lord Marshal calls for me?” Her voice radiated calm, held a mild interest, a gentle curiosity... Vaako knew her well enough to hear the hope and triumph hidden beneath the meeker tones. It was evening, all she needed was one night in Riddick’s chambers, and she would be considered his consort, even if he never took her to bed again. Even if he took dozens of others to his bed. So long as none stayed the night, she would reign supreme among the fatuous idiots in the high court. Vaako wondered vaguely what Riddick’s advisors were thinking, if they did not explain such important details to him. Small things, yes, but so important...

He stepped away from his Dame, waiting to see the guards escort her away. He had a few small personal items in their chambers he wanted to keep. As soon as they were gone, he would collect them...

“Lord Vaako?” He jerked his wavering attention back to the guards. What was wrong with him - he couldn’t seem to stay focused on anything. He could tell, now, that they were waiting for him. “The Lord Marshal requests your presence, as well.”

“Why him?” Wulia said the words before she thought, a major slip for his cunning wife, and he saw her lips tighten in self-directed anger. The guard who had spoken was already shaking his head.

“I know not, Lady Vaako. Will you follow us, please?” She turned and waited imperiously for Vaako, and he stepped wordlessly to her side, waiting as she took his arm again. They walked through the halls, oddly crowded with members of the Necromonger elite, and she kept her head high and proud. They had mocked her lately, gently and so carefully, about the desertion of her husband. Well, now they would see! He was right by her side again, obedient as before. As soon as the Lord Marshal kept her in his chambers tonight, *she* would desert Vaako. She would return his Torian in the most public place possible -

Her gleeful thoughts of the public humiliation of her husband stopped short when the guards led them past the entrance to Riddick’s personal chambers. Her eyes grew wide, as did Vaako’s, but neither of them said a word as they were led further down the hall to the real High Chamber, not the rooms commonly referred to with those words. The High Chamber of the Judgement of the Lord Marshal, a place no Necromonger wanted to go.

The intricately carved doors swung open to reveal the small chamber. Riddick was sprawled with easy grace across the High Throne at the far end, three of the half-dozen Hellhounds he’d had retrieved from Crematoria lounging at his feet. Vaako paused at the door, eyes made sharp by a sense of danger sweeping around the room, trying to see everything in it. The three Commanders directly beneath him in power were there, along with the four main advisors to the late Lord Marshal, several Commanders he had recommended for promotion - a recommendation completely ignored - a few of the members of the high court that had a little sense. Altogether a strange gathering.

Dame Vaako had released his arm the instant the doors opened, and had already swept forward to bow deeply in front of Riddick, favoring him with a view straight down the front of her dress. Vaako knew from experience just what her deep cleavage revealed, but the black goggles kept him from seeing if Riddick’s eyes took advantage of it. He walked forward warily, trying to keep track of everyone in the room. They were standing still, which made it easier - his inability to concentrate was beginning to worry him.

The physical weakness that came after too many Purifyings was also nagging him - he knelt carefully, and took a deep breath before standing, using every ounce of control he had not to wobble. He needed rest after that last Purifying - the new Purifyer had seemed to take absolute delight in his work. It had been the single longest session Vaako had ever had, and on top of two previous Purifyings only a few days before... His physical reactions were beginning to frighten him - and the fact that he was frightened after an emotion-wiping Purification just made everything worse.

Dame Vaako was chattering - on and on like some inane bird. He couldn’t force his sluggish brain to focus on her words. They were probably just babble, anyway. He looked at the throne instead, saw the black goggles aimed directly at him, saw the three huge Hellhounds sitting up and watching him curiously. He knew they were deadly, yet for some reason he felt no fear of them. Death would be quick under those fangs and claws. Somewhere deep in his mind a memory stirred, a long-forgotten word whispered its way across his consciousness...

~Pack...~

He gave his head a tiny shake - where had that come from?

Riddick spoke suddenly, in that deep voice that reminded him of gravel. “So you won’t Challenge me?”

Vaako’s eyes flew from the Hellhounds back to that unreadable face.

“My Lord?” Why did his voice sound so far away?

Wulia had stopped her babbling, her eyes wary and distant. She took the smallest step away from her husband, as if to show they were not together in what happened next. She was sure Vaako was about to be forced into a fight. The thought pleased her - she could barely contain a smirk.

Riddick didn’t answer his question - he gestured toward a screen at the side of the hall, and a tech jumped to push some buttons - suddenly the Vaako’s saw their own images on the screen, a video capture of the embarrassing scene just enacted in the soldier’s quarters. Wulia looked enraged. Vaako closed his eyes tight, feeling a faint blush forcing its way past his guard to color his cheekbones. To have all these people - Riddick - watching while his wife ordered him around like a child - he wished his hair was out of its elaborately braided tail, so that it would hide his face when he bowed his head. He heard the sound of Wulia’s weak slap, heard his own choked laughter - it was echoed by snickers around the room, and he felt his cheeks get hotter. He sincerely wished the floor would vanish beneath him, so he could fall down into the darkness and never see any of these people again.

There was a sudden gentle pressure against his thigh - it was oddly comforting, and he reached down without thought. His fingers encountered something hard and smooth. He let his hand run slowly along it, and the sudden rumbling sound snapped him out of his mortified trance. He stared down to see his fingertips resting on the armor-plated head of one of the Hellhounds. The rumbling sound was something akin to a purr. He jerked startled eyes to Riddick, not daring to move his hand. Everyone else in the room was staring at him in amazement - Riddick only smirked.

“I thought so.” The words were meaningless to Vaako and apparently to most of the others in the room. They all looked as confused as he felt. Wulia stepped closer to the throne, her eyes hiding her desperation behind a sweet demure gaze.

“I assure you, my Lord, I was only testing my husband. I desired to see if his loyalty would go to you - I wished you no hardships at his hand.”

‘Excellent save.’ Vaako thought, unable to keep from admiring her cunning. The gentle words and dulcet tone were easily believable. Most of his Commanders and a few of the elite looked uncertain. Riddick did not.

“Somehow I don’t believe you, bitch. Vaako.”

“My Lord?”

“Take off that necklace.” His hands went straight to it, no hesitation, and unsnapped the delicate chain. He held it in his palm and looked questioningly at the Lord Marshal.

“Now you.” He spoke to Dame Vaako, and she protested.

“But...” Riddick frowned, and the two Hellhounds still sitting at his feet rose, growling low and dangerous. She hurriedly removed the Torian with Cylus’ symbol on it, but still got her revenge by letting it fall from her hand to the floor. It was a sign of utter disrespect, and Riddick didn’t need any advisor to tell him that.

“Pick it up and give it to him.” His voice was low and angry - Wulia didn’t dare disobey. She scooped up the tangled chain and nearly threw it at Vaako, who caught it deftly. “Now give her that one.” Vaako didn’t try to gain any superiority over her by treating her Torian shamefully - he was as good as divorced, and the relief let him be generous. He placed it politely in the palm of her hand. Her eyes narrowed hatefully at him, and he wondered why. He’d left her with some dignity, hadn’t he? He wasn’t as well versed in the elite court rituals as she, and mostly ignored her instructions - he had no idea that by refusing to respond to her insult he left her looking spiteful and unrefined. It was an innocent move worthy of the most crafty of courtiers - the nobles present openly sniggered at her.

Riddick ignored them, and her. His eyes were on Vaako, measuring him. The Hellhound was still at his side, and the man was unconsciously leaning against the beast. The Hound looked utterly content at this fact, rubbing its massive head gently against the black armored thigh. Vaako’s pale face was whiter than he’d ever seen it, deep black circles under his eyes and lines of weariness drawing the fine bones into sharp relief. He looked thinner than the last time he’d seen him - although it was hard to tell with the bulk of his armor and the thickness of the clothes he wore beneath it. The Necromonger scars on his neck were a deep, angry red, and shone in the dim lights with a sheen of clear liquid. He’d quickly learned that such were signs of a very recent Purifying, and he frowned. He could tell the man was having a hard time standing, let alone paying attention.

“Vaako.” He forced the dark hazel eyes to look at him again. “Which of these men would you choose as your Second?” The question was completely unexpected - he blinked slowly at him for a moment, then his eyes skimmed over the Commanders assembled.

“Troan.” He said, no hesitation in his voice, settling his gaze on the third in Command under him. He was a stellar officer, whose men followed without question. He’d wanted him as his Second of Commanders before, and Zhylaw had refused.

“And if you were me, who would be your Chief of Advisors?” That question took Vaako a half- second longer to answer - his eyes went straight past the assembled Advisors, who were glaring at him, to alight on a tall, slim man standing with the High Nobles.

“Lord Garen.” Riddick’s goggles turned to the man he indicated, seeming to measure him. He gestured to one of the Hellhounds, and it prowled across the room to the man, a picture of deadly grace. It circled him, snuffled at his robes, put out a sandpaper tongue to barely taste his hand - then stalked back to the high Throne and sprawled in its former position. Garen had stood completely still, wide-eyed, through the whole ordeal; Riddick gave him a single short nod of approval.

“Right, then. Lord Garen, my Chief of Advisors, and he’ll appoint the rest as he sees fit.” There was a gasp of outrage from Lord Tarlow, the current Chief, but a single look from Riddick quelled him. “And Commander Troan...” He paused a second, and gave Vaako an amused look. “My First of Commanders.”

Vaako didn’t respond audibly, even when Wulia gave an amused snort and Troan’s face became a struggle between awe and sorrow. The man was the closest thing to a friend Vaako had, and he knew he felt that way. He’d been expecting to lose his place, it wasn’t a big shock to Vaako. Riddick seemed very amused at his reaction, or lack thereof. He wasn’t done speaking.

“I had plans for you, Cylus Vaako.” He got up from the throne and walked in a slow circle around the man, his movements almost cat-like in their grace. He grinned at the Hellhound watching him. “Those have changed a little, now. I think...” He paused, and turned to eye Wulia with more amusement. “Take her, have her sent to the Scarab.” He gestured to the guards, and they hurried to obey.

Wulia shrieked - the Scarab was the lowest of the low-class transport ships trailing along in the mothership’s wake. She would rather Riddick kill her than send her there, and he knew it. “Take her, and make sure she’s put to work.” Wulia tried to plead, tried to beg - was ignored, and the guards had to drag her away, screaming and twisting in their hold. Vaako watched her go with blank dark eyes.

~Too much, too much is happening. I can’t...~

“You.” The voice was low, almost next to his ear, and he jumped. Riddick chuckled. “You go and sleep. You look more dead than usual. We’ll talk about my nice new plans in the morning.”