Right Hand

DISCLAIMER: I don't own anything, but don't tell Vaako that - I've almost got him convinced... hehe

~thinking~
‘actual thoughts’
*emphasis*

AN: Thanks so so much for the nice reviews! I wasn't going to update until Friday but I changed my mind when I read them.... whee! they make me soo happy! (I need a life...) ALICIA: Thanks bunches for helping me w/the Recommended Reading! Got it working now! HARELYD: Wow, that's really cool, that something I wrote helped your bad day! GREY: You reviewed TWO of my stories! Whee! I felt all warm and *fuzzy*! :) So this chapter is mainly for you guys! Thanks for the inspiration! Thanks bunches to everyone else reviewing, too! I thought Dame Vaako's punishment apt, there are worse things then death, after all! Beware, though, I'm not done with her! Enjoy the chappie, it may be a little slow but I needed to get some things worked out before the next one.


CHAPTER THREE

Usually he went from sleeping to wide-awake in an instant. This morning he was awake long before he realized it, staring at the ceiling through slitted, heavy eyelids. When his brain finally decided that his body was awake, he yawned.

“You should really cut down on the Purifyings.” An amused voice remarked and he sat straight up, staring at the Lord Marshal, who was draped across a small chair next to the bed. He seemed too big for the tiny room, filling it up until Vaako was sure there was no air left inside. He’d chosen to return to the small soldier’s quarters. It was more fitting for a common Commander - he wondered if it was wrong to feel relieved that he was such again - and he really hadn’t wanted to deal with the splendid rooms overflowing with his wife’s - ex-wife’s - belongings.

Riddick was staring at him and he gazed back, too astonished at seeing the man here to care if he was being rude. The lights were turned down low so the Lord Marshal could keep his goggles off. Vaako wondered if it were day or night. There was no way to tell - all his belongings seemed to have vanished, including his small clock. He opened his mouth to ask the man where his things were when there was a sudden surge of motion from the floor at the foot of the bed, and a very large Hellhound was nearly in his lap. The bed creaked warningly, and Riddick chuckled.

“She’s been waiting for you to wake up.” Vaako stared at the beast, round-eyed, and looked back to his leader.

“W-waiting?”

Riddick leaned closer, his silver eyes sly. “I think she’s taken a liking to you, Vaako. Funny, don’t you think? They only want to eat everyone else. Wonder what’s different about you?”

“Nothing.” Vaako said quickly. “How long did I sleep?”

“Twenty-seven hours. You know, I had some techs scan the records, there have only been three Necros, ever, who had three Purifyings in one week.” He leaned even closer, and Vaako tried to ease back a little. Not an easy feat, with a lap full of heavy armored cat beast. “The other two died after the third one. So I had ‘em check your record against everyone else on this boat. You’ve got the highest Purification record of any one person on board. Why is that, Vaako?” He stretched out a hand, and for a moment Vaako thought he was going to touch him. Those fingers fell on the Hellhound instead, rubbing at the base of its pointed ears.

Vaako did not want to answer that question. *Never* wanted to answer that question - so he tried changing the subject. “Why do they call them Hellhounds? They look like big cats to me.”

“Yeah.” Riddick, surprisingly, let the subject change slide. “Some idiot had no imagination, I guess. But Hellhound kinda has a ring to it, you know? Hellcat - good, but not quite the same. And they got instincts, like a wolf pack. Don’t act much like cats beyond stalking and purring. Why didn’t you get mad, when I took your position away?”

The abrupt question caught Vaako slightly off guard, and he answered before he thought. “I was expecting it.”

“Why?”

‘No way out of this one.’ “Because - because it was I who brought her here.”

Riddick didn’t pretend he didn’t know what Vaako was talking about. “Yeah. You did.” And his voice told the other man that was *all* that would be said about that subject. For now...

The Lord Marshal got to his feet and motioned to the Hellhound, which gave a grumbling growl of displeasure but obediently jumped down from the bed. “Get up.” He told Vaako. “You need to eat, get cleaned up. Got a lot to do today.” Vaako gave him a questioning look and he laughed. “You’ll see.” He picked up a bundle of dark cloth and tossed it into the other man’s lap. “Go on, shower, change. Eat something, then meet me in my chambers.” And he was gone, out the door, and took all the air left in the room with him.


*


Vaako was dressed and heading for the High Chambers ten minutes later, having opted for swallowing nutrient pills instead of ordering food. He felt better after his rest, more alert, his body alive again and humming with some of his old energy. He felt lighter than usual as he walked, but that was due to the clothing. His armor hadn’t been in the room and the clothes Riddick had tossed at him were not his usual thick, muffled garments. They were silk, black as midnight and alien to him in their lightness. They were cut with severe plainness and had only the tiniest bit of embroidery at collar and cuffs, done in silk thread a shade lighter than the rest of the outfit. He felt strange, almost naked in such clothes.

Well, at least it wasn’t the heavy, rich stuff Wulia had favored. He *hated* those outfits.

He slowed as he reached the doors to Riddick’s chambers, but the guards outside didn’t hesitate. They nodded their heads respectfully and opened the doors. Vaako frowned a tiny bit and walked quietly inside. The main room of the Lord Marshal’s chambers had been changed from a pretentious little audience parlor to an informal conference room. A long, low table was ringed with chairs pulled out at haphazard angles. The cold metal floor had been covered with a thick, deep rug. There were other, more comfortable chairs tucked into quiet corners. It was certainly not the kind of room he’d expected Riddick to have and he just stood in the shadow of the doorway for a moment, staring.

Riddick, Garen and Troan were sitting around the table, the two Necromongers sitting at respectful attention while Riddick was sprawled with his usual easy grace. The others had their eyes firmly fixed on their Lord, but Riddick was watching him, amused yet again. The lights were low, just enough for the others to see while allowing Riddick to dispose of his usual goggles. Vaako gazed at those disturbing silver eyes for a moment. He’d been careful not to look at them in his quarters earlier, but he couldn’t seem to help it now. There was just something about the gleam they had in the low light that made him wonder what they looked like in total darkness -

Vaako realized the turn his thoughts were taking and pulled them to a screeching halt. He had to wonder if Riddick was a mind reader when he heard a low chuckle. The Lord Marshal gestured for him to take the chair on his right side and he walked silently forward and dropped down into it. A data pad was placed in front of him, planet specs on the screen. He took it and read it, keeping his mouth shut and waiting to hear exactly what the others were discussing.

They were discussing an invasion.

Not the usual kind - no ‘convert or die’ mission, no blowing up the planet once they were gone. Riddick was being adamant about this and it surprised Vaako how easily Troan and Garen were falling in with his wishes. It was against the most basic of Necromonger precepts to leave humans alive and not converted!

~Not that you really care...~

‘I told you to shut up.’ Vaako told the little inner voice and drug his attention back to the data pad. Riddick had proposed giving the people on this planet a choice - and it would probably work. It was an extremely overcrowded, poor planet. If Vaako had lived there he would have jumped at the chance to get away. Wasn’t that really why he was here now? Taking the easy way out... that unsettling little inner voice was taunting him now. Always taking the easy way out, giving in to the Necromongers who conquered his homeworld, giving in to Zhylaw, giving in to Wulia, giving in to Riddick now when he didn’t even know why he was here.

~And not about to ask.~

For once he agreed with the little voice. There was no way he was going to question the unknown plans Riddick had for him - he might not want to be here, might not want to be around the Lord Marshal, but he *did not* want to die by reminding the man again of the death he was responsible for. Not today, thank you.

“There will be trouble with the nobles, when they realize you do not intend to convert all.” Garen was warning Riddick, his voice anxious. “They cling the hardest to our Religion.”

“Why is that?” The gravelly voice was casual, but Vaako could hear the underlying curiosity.

“I...” Garen frowned a little. “I know not.” The silver eyes went to Troan, who shrugged. They turned to Vaako, who sighed and spoke.

“The nobles have attained their positions through strict adherence to the guidelines of our Religion. Without it they have nothing, no power and no place. It is not the same for the soldiers.” Riddick didn’t quite look convinced. He turned back to Lord Garen.

“Do you agree?”

“Mmm... yes. I hadn’t thought of it that way, but it’s true. There is no need for the nobility without the Religion - they are our spiritual leaders, clergy, if you will. I - it’s different for me. I was taken as a child and adopted by a member of the nobles, I didn’t have to fight and claw and cast others out as heretics to get my place.” Back went the silver eyes to the pale man beside him.

“You’re a Lord?”

“I was promoted to my place. As was Troan and some of the other Lords.”

Riddick looked thoughtful for a split second, then he grinned. “Well, it’ll make things fun around here, huh? We’ll see what the stiffs do when there’s nothing for them to fight each other over.” Lord Garen actually chuckled and Troan looked amused. Vaako stayed still, wondering if Riddick really knew just how much trouble he was going to get. He hoped he kept a Hellhound with him, there were going to be a lot more daggers than usual aimed at that broad back.

~And this worries you, why? You’ll be safer if he’s gone.~

‘But the Necromongers won’t. We need a strong leader. Zhylaw’s weakness would have lead us to destruction sooner rather than late.’ Nothing could live without change, without growth, especially not a civilization. The Necromongers would have been weakened from the inside out by his fears and the way he tried to rule others by playing on their own weaknesses. It would have only been another year or two before the soldiers started rebelling, before the techs began to sabotage their own work. Vaako had seen tiny signs of it - it was why he’d given in to Wulia so easily. He did not love the Religion, but he couldn’t help but care about the people under him. Weak, yes, but a weakness he’d learned to live with.

Riddick was strong, and Riddick was bringing much-needed changes to their faltering race. The strength the other worlds saw was a shell, a front. A cancer had been eating them from within - perhaps its growth would be cut off now.

“You’re thinking too hard.” There was that low purr in his ear again, a warm gust of breath against his own cooler skin. He kept himself from jumping by the barest margin and settled for glaring at the Lord Marshal instead. Riddick grinned, turned away. A menial brought in a tray of fruit and the other men settled down to work, discussing plots and maneuvers while they snacked on apple and peach slices. Vaako ate a few grapes and was occasionally asked for his input. His replies were short and to the point and seemed to surprise Riddick a little. He smirked inwardly - why did the man think he’d been made First of Commanders? It wasn’t because he was a fool.

After about an hour Riddick yawned and stretched. “Enough. Be ready to move tomorrow morning.” His tone was dismissive and the other three men stood. Troan slanted his eyes at Vaako, seemed to get whatever confirmation he was looking for and spoke the ritualistic words Vaako had said to Lord Zhylaw too many times to count.

“I will bring honor to your name as I lead your followers to battle.”

Riddick nearly laughed. “Yeah. Whatever - is that what you always say? I’ll be doing my own leading.” The other three men stared at him. He gazed calmly back, biting into another apple slice and chewing casually. Finally Garen found his voice.

“It is not - fitting, for the Lord Marshal to be personally involved in a battle...”

“Forget that. Think I’m going to let them have all the fun? He gestured toward Vaako and Troan.

“But if one of the enemy injures or...”

“Then you’ll have a new Lord Marshal, won’t you? C’mon, don’t tell me you like being all safe and boring waiting back on this tub? Where’s the fun in that? I’m going soft letting all these people do everything for me.”

“It’s only been a week!”

“Six days too long.” Riddick growled, getting to his feet. “Enough, no more arguments. Go on, get to work. Want everything ready in the morning.”

“Yes, Lord Marshal.” All three men bowed their heads respectfully and turned to leave. Riddick shot out a long arm and caught Vaako.

“Not you. You stay.”

Vaako stared at him yet again, then sat back down. Riddick grinned and grabbed a data pad, started pursuing some files and ignored the other man. Vaako waited for a while in uncomfortable silence, then grew bored himself and looked for something to occupy his attention. He'd already seen and studied everything in the room. He shifted in his chair and felt the still-alien sensation of silk whispering across his skin. He ran a finger up his left forearm slowly, marveling at the texture of the strange new clothes. His heart nearly leapt out of his chest when another, longer finger followed the same trail, coming to rest in the crook of his elbow.

“Feels good, huh? Better than walking around in that thick shit you usually have on. Don’t know how you could breathe in that stuff.” Riddick leaned back in his seat and laced his fingers together behind his head. He looked remarkably comfortable in his own scant tank-top and worn leather pants.

‘Far cry from Lord Zhylaw.’ Vaako compared the two again, thinking of the elaborate ceremonial robes the last Marshal was fond of wearing. “Where *is* my ‘thick shit’?” He asked, remembering the barren quarters he’d woke up in that morning.

“In your new quarters.” Came the casual reply. Riddick was studying the ceiling with remarkable intent, as if he expected to find the secrets of the Underverse there.

“And where would those be?” Softly spoken.

Riddick jerked his head toward the corner of the room. Vaako turned and saw a small doorway there - he knew that *hadn’t* been there the last time he’d been in these chambers. What-?

“Go ahead and look, but make it fast. I’m going to review the troops. You’re coming with me.”

Vaako decided he might as well just paste a startled expression on his face - it seemed to be the order of the day. He got up slowly and went to the new door, opened it and walked inside. The chambers were good-sized, neat and well-furnished. There was a small outer room leading to a bedroom, a nice bathing room with a sizeable tub opening off of the bed chamber. Most of his belongings were laying on the bed, waiting for him to arrange them as he wanted. He was glad to see that his elaborate court garments were not there, nor any of Wulia’s things. He didn’t care where those had gone, so long as he never saw them again.

“C’mon.” Said a deep voice behind him. “We’re leaving. You stay with me.”

“Yes, my Lord. For today?”

“We’ll see.” Riddick’s reply was vague and as they left the chambers for the soldiering levels, Vaako never saw the smug look on his Marshal’s face.