Treacherous

Like the last chapter this one kind of fell between the end of the original story and what I wanted for the continuation. So it's a little chunky. Bear with me please, and let me know what you think.

Riddick in an outfit like Vaako's haunts my dreams!


Riddick allowed Vaako to choose a handful of commanders and generals to be allowed limited freedom. Vaako couldn’t command all the soldiers by himself, and Riddick had made it damn clear that he didn’t care to. The rest of the elites were dumped into cells. None of them seemed particularly harmful, just annoying. Especially that conniving Dame Vaako. What had Vaako been doing with the bitch? The free Necros avoided the new Lord Marshall as much as possible.

Within a few days of his ‘promotion’, Riddick arranged a meeting with a handful of leaders from Helion Prime. Some were still in his custody. Removed from the early stages of the conversion, they were mostly themselves.

No apologies were given. But now that he had control of the Necros he could right some of the wrong they’d done. Riddick had personally given the order to a large formation of battle-suited Necros. They were to enter the city peacefully and start repairing damage done during the invasion. Nearly every Necro had broken formation to start grumbling.

“No weapons. No fighting,” Riddick roared, bringing instant silence. “I am now your judge and executioner. A Helionite reports abuse, I’ll kill every Necro that was present. These people have suffered and would refuse our help if they could. You do this or hop on that ship bound for The Threshold,” Riddick warned, pointing to a nearby transport.

Not another word was spoken.

A week later there had yet to be a complaint. Riddick was almost sorry there hadn’t been.

Aereon still lurked. He hadn’t invited her to stay, but hadn’t asked her to leave yet. She stayed mostly out of his way, though with her cryptic ‘your path is before you’, he wasn’t sure how much she would argue anything he did.

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

The scaled cloth the Necros wore had a strength and flexibility to it that was admirable. Colors ranging from a steel-gray to gold to jet-black made them all dress similarly. Riddick hated any concession that leaned towards being more like the Necros, but he couldn’t walk around naked!

The pants were simple enough, made to hug like a second skin, yet allow complete freedom of movement. Boots were dark, knee high. He’d had the sleeves removed from the tunic before he’d put it on. He liked his arms uncovered. The row of scales running down his spine was heavy and felt cold against his skin, but he liked the idea of it covering his sweet spot. It seemed fitting.

Armor would come next. The slick material made it easy to get into the clunky armor, should he ever choose to wear it. His was chosen from what had been the last Lord Marshal’s. A breastplate that would leave his arms bare. Shields strapped to thighs and shins, reinforcing the boots. Leather gauntlets that reached to his elbow, armored only on the back and above the wrists. He refused the helmet. Wearing one to sneak into the ship had been bad, he wasn’t going to wear one by choice. But Vaako added it to the collection even after Riddick had removed it.

Not that he would ever wear the armor. It was chosen, polished and readied, but could rust to hell for all he cared. He’d seen that the former Lord Marshal had worn armor constantly. It’s purpose surely to make him seem larger and fearsome. Had it made the half-dead feel more powerful or had it been worn out of fear?

Riddick didn’t need to protect his body with armor, he could manage all on his own.

With little to do and some big decisions to make he found himself pacing constantly. Today it was in the empty Necropolis. He was really starting to like the huge statues of pained men. They were strange and impressive. Why would you make statues of men hurting themselves? Vaako and his unprovoked bits of information had looked at them with reverence while insisting that they signified the inevitably for the final journey to Underverse. Necros were fucking stupid.

The cloth of his new outfit clung to his skin, stretching with his movements, almost feeling like a caress. He lifted and adjusted himself. With a small smile he did it again, this time taking a step. Yeah, he could learn to like this.

At the end of the hall the doors opened, drawing his attention. A troop of guards jogged forward, taking position flanking the entry. Vaako strode toward him. He sketched a quick bow before assuming the strict stance of a soldier. “My Lord, the Militia has sent a party to meet with you.”

If the Necro had tap-danced Riddick wouldn’t be anymore surprised. “Militia?”

Vaako looked back at the guards then checked the walk above before stepping closer. He kept his voice low. “You must choose an advisor. There is much you do not now. An advisor would be able to inform you of confidential matters.”

“So you tell me.”

The Commander seemed annoyed. “An adviser would have information that you wouldn’t want shared with another.”

Riddick took a deep breath, losing himself in the feel of the ship around him for a second, letting it calm the rage that was always so close to the surface. “Vaako, you’re commander of an army that is extinct. You are the only person I trust to not lie to me. I choose you. Start fucking talking.”

Vaako tensed in anger, his jaw working as he glared at his new Lord Marshal. “My Lord, we have customs for a reason. Each Necromonger must be fit for his position to best aid the cause. I am not an appropriate choice to lead troops and still be accessible to you. Your people would benefit more from another choice.”

Grrrrrr. “I have no people. I don’t want this shit!” He yelled at the man, feeling a little better taking his rage out on the capable commander than he had on the wisp that was Aereon. “I’d give it away if I knew who to give it to.”

Vaako seemed alarmed by this at least. “The title of Lord Marshall can’t be passed off. You earned it. ‘Keep what you kill’ is our way. You must keep this.”

“Then if only you could kill me.”

Riddick almost smiled at seeing Vaako’s expression. He could see the Necro had thought of it. In the end his training took over and he stood straight and stoic again, the look of longing gone.

“Come on, Vaako. You wanted this. Why haven’t you tried to take it from me?”

He looked pissed. Not proud of trying to overthrow his lord? “The sixth Lord Marshal was not fit to hold the title. What I did, I did for the faith.”

Riddick couldn’t help wondering about this. “Not fit how?” How had he been more unfit than him?

“He was afraid of you. If he had fear he was not worthy.”

Spoken defensively, but earnestly. He was defending his action, but he’d believed in it too.

“How am I doin’? I’m fit to lead?”

Vaako’s eyes had been on some fixed point as he stood at attention. Now they met his and Riddick was surprised at the look there. Up till now Vaako had showed his respect, but Riddick had put it off as him serving his lord. Now he wondered. “You are fearless.”

Riddick raised a brow. The Necros tone was more than reverent; it was appreciative.

“My choice stands. Talk.”

The Necro sighed, but spoke, “The Necroism depends on a pact with the UDMC. No conversions could be done without their aid.”

Riddick held his hand up, stopping his new adviser. The Necros and the Militia were in liege? Why wasn’t that surprising? He’d served in the Militia for years. Trained in everything, flying, weaponry, mechanics, special tactics. He’d been their golden child, jumping ranks and being chosen for special assignments before decorated men with decades more experience.

Aptitude tests had made the Militia slobber at the mouth to use him. They’d wanted to make him into a lethal machine, and he’d wanted to be one.

He was promoted to a team installed on a newly colonized moon to enforce security. It had been a slave camp. When he got tired of the torturing he’d tried to blow the whistle on it. But UDMC was too corrupt and too complex. Instead, the evidence he collected disappeared and we was left in the compromising situation. He’d only avoided execution because he was Militia.

Now he was supposed to be partners with them? To help them end lives? He didn’t see himself as an upstanding member of society, but he’d never killed just to kill. And he really didn’t like the idea of destroying entire civilizations, women, children and all.

“How does this little agreement work?”

Vaako looked puzzled, but no less stern. “I don’t know. Many things were known only to a choice few. Shipments from the Militia were normally directed to the conversion technicians, unless it was sent to the Lord Marshal. The personal computer system within your rooms would be able to give you more information. Only you may access it.”

“You don’t know anything? What does UDMC get out of this?”

The Commander answered this without hesitation, “Influence.”

A hot rage made Riddick grind his teeth. The universe was an unfair fucking place. Millions, maybe billions of lives ended. Militia was supposed to protect the universe’s people. It was what had led him to join their ranks. A small hope in the scarred youth, that he could help others where he’d not been helped. Not to mention that he’d wanted out of slam. But the Militia wasn’t the devoted big brother it pretended to be. So this wasn’t much of a surprise. That they had joined the only other superpower in the universe and had been aiming it at the worlds most in its way.

That was about to end.

“Set it up.”