Match, point... game

Chapter nine:
The stars the limit

“Finally,” George muttered within the darkness around them. Silver eyes turned to her with a curt look and the red head shut up, her eyes narrowing just as harshly while her arms crossed over her chest. Riddick turned to watching above, waiting, crouching against his perch on the rock face of the double max. They had all heard it, the slams and clicks and rumbles that came with a ship that was docking at the prison on the surface of Brigitus, however it was only to George and Riddick that it mattered any. The others had gone on their way, they had all known that the man coming today was going into the triple max, that he was some bad ass political killer that had murdered three planets kings and emperors. Riddick sometimes wondered if the warden thought that he was a bunny rabbit compared to this guy… obviously the man was underestimating him.

He felt Georgina shift against the rock and came to where he was crouching, hanging her feet off of the sides and watching with anxious eyes as the elevators lights switched on in anticipation of carrying the man down. Riddick turned to the woman and she nodded, both of them jumping from their perch and landing nearly soundlessly onto the ring below. It would start now. While they were distracted with the new prisoner they would go through the shafts, it would take a good ten minutes for the guy to go all the way into the mountain side they were in and then down a few miles to the place where the warden would greet him. They had those ten minutes to get through the metal ducts and then she had three minutes to break through the barrier, take out all of the guards on the other side, and then blast a hole he could get into. It would take those three minutes for the majority of the guards to reach the triple max. Then they would summon up the elevator while they were still at the bottom, leaving them there with the inmates, and call it to the top of the double area, wherein they would both climb up to it through the hanging cords and ropes. From then on it was all stealth and waiting on the bottom of the elevator, once the guards were on it, confused as to where the other guys were, they would grab onto the railing near by and cut the support shafts and wires, short circuit the elevator, and send it plummeting down.

The rest would rely on god given talents of killing and fighting. He watched George out of the corner of his eye and wondered if she would fall behind at any point. He meant what he had said, if she got shot, if she fell, if she wasn’t at the ship when he was or within a few seconds of him closing the haul door, he would leave her ass on this planet. He was looking after himself with this shit, not her. Riddick drew his attention back to the task at hand when they came into his cell and he grabbed the sheet of rock he had placed before it to hide the secret entrance from the guards notice. Pulling it out of place he nodded to the woman accompanying him and she slid into the slim opening, shrugging through it on her elbows and knees. He climbed in after her and put the rock back into place, entering into pitch blackness.

“You better not make me run into a wall again,” George’s voice lifted into the silence around them. Riddick didn’t say anything but a small smirk of amusement and they started their way down the passage of small metal outcroppings.

The made little noise for by now he had taught the woman before him, who’s ass was marvelously close to his face, where all the most secure points within the ducts were and where they would make the least amount of racket. It turned out she had been a quick learner and had paced the journey out in her head over the last few weeks, counting how many sliding steps it would take to get to the corner they needed to go right at or something like that. Though she would still stop and wait patiently for him to tell her, or rather mock her, in which directions to turn. But now they had to get it right. They couldn’t make a noise in here and they couldn’t mess up their time frame. Riddick ticked the seconds by in his head, two minutes had passed and they had gone deep within the vents and were now coming up to the very first turn.

George reached out a sure hand and grasped onto the sharp metal of the fork and then turned to the left, shifting her weight perfectly to where it groaned very little, and moved off towards their destination. Riddick went after her and they began a slow and steady climb upwards that would lead them over half of the rings in the double max all the way up to the second fork in the ducts, then to a small drop off they would need to slide down, and then turn again before reaching the small area where only she could fit. He watched her lithe form ahead with a small amount of pity forming in his gut. The prison had taken away some of her muscle bulk over the last few months, sadly. She had been ripped that first time he had seen her in here and on the ship, he could tell the heavy build that was on her had been from lean and powerful definition that came with living life in constant battle. Now she was more slender and there was no doubt in his mind she could fit through that tiny duct, it was just a question of how well she would fair against the five or so guards in the control room, just waiting for something to go wrong.

He slid his hands over the cool surface of the duct and glanced around with wary eyes. Something was heavy in the air around them and though he knew it was also the smell of George ahead of him, that same musky scent of oleanders and female, it was also something else… Pushing it aside he decided that if something did happen he would deal with it. Though it was often the small things you didn’t plan for that came and bit you in the ass it was also those things he was good at thinking around. His knee hit against a knob that hadn’t been there before and he had to hold in a curse at the pain it throbbed through his leg. He glared down at it only to see that it was a screw that had come loose from the years these systems had been in use and glanced up in time to see George freeze from his lack of movement. She glanced over her shoulder in his direction and again he was struck with how her gaze found his instantly even in pure darkness, and he again had to wonder if there was someway somehow she could see like him. But when she shifted her eyes and then looked around with a bewildered glare he dismissed that train again.
“Go, it’s nothing,” Riddick commented softly in a barely there whisper. With a nod she started off again.

They felt the bend in the system, or rather, he saw it, and they were once more at a fork in the area. Coolness washed over them as the fan somewhere turned on, causing the woman before him to let out a small breath of relief, having put up with stifling heat for a good five months. He closed his eyes momentarily in enjoyment as well, having almost forgotten what it was like to feel the chill of air conditioning. However when they had both basked for a good ten seconds he nudged her with his fist on her booted foot and she glanced towards the left then the right, obviously having become slightly disoriented in that moment of distraction. Riddick leaned forwards and pressed a hand on her right leg, signaling to go that direction and she did what she was told.

They both paused and shifted then George disappeared with a ruffling of clothing on metal, sliding down the two feet with effort to remain silent. She landed with a barely there clang and quickly scuttled away so that Riddick’s much larger form could come down. When both of them had gone down the drop they started off again and noticed quickly the passageway getting smaller and smaller until it was snug around Riddick’s shoulders. He glanced to his side to see the light coming up brashly from the barred vent that lead into the break room. George shot a quick curious look over to it, hearing the voices of all of the off duty guards, before she received a quick pinch from the leader of this little break out. Rolling her eyes and grumbling to where only he could hear he watched her go down onto her belly and start to elbow her way upwards and into the increasingly small passageway.

Riddick watched her glowing purple form all the way up to the entrance to the control room and there she stopped, putting her hands up to the bars and undoubtedly staring in to assess the situation. Judging from how she pulled out a shank from her boot and the other from its home on her hip he knew instantly that there were more than he had thought there would be. He stationed himself in his position, his breathing regulated but a small pressure forming in his chest, anticipation was never a good feeling when one was busting out of a slam…

George’s eyes were assailed with light from the inky blackness when she had first reached the control room a few hundred yards from Riddick’s position. She blinked owlishly a few times, rubbing at them, then settled her hands upon the bars and regarded everything within the room with acute interest. The control room was much nicer and immaculate than the hell hole she had been living in for far too long now. It was in the shape as the rest of the rings only it went outwards in a dome, covered in thick, Plexiglas; the computers and boards were lined up against the edge of the glass so that the runners could watch the prisoners below cautiously. Or so that would be if the two that were in the large office chairs of lush leather and synthetic cotton weren’t just keeping their legs propped on the sensitive equipment and staring down with bored eyes, as if it were nothing but a chore to be here. Obviously they hadn’t done their job… she thought with a sadistic smirk, because she was here and the most wanted man in the universe was right behind her.

She turned and surveyed the rest of the room and caught the glint of a familiar enemy. Plasma and taser guns were attached to the hips of over nine guards littering around the room, two where even stationed right outside of her vent though she was sure that it was merely for cool air and not suspicion. If they had truly thought someone would try this shit then they hadn’t checked the walls for weakness’ well enough. Running her tongue over her incisor and feeling the familiar bubble of coming, heated, battle pumping into her veins her vision went red. There was always this thrill… so intoxicating… so awe striking that swept through her body the very few moments before a kill that it had quickly made someone as soft as she used to be into what she was now. A cold hearted killer that didn’t think twice about what life meant or what it was valued at, other than her own. You had to be selfish in the business she was in. If you weren’t, if you watched after someone else’s ass or if you thought about the person you were about to ghost, then you would start to go insane and start to feel like you were a monster not fit to live. George should know… she had already gone through all of that shit and had come out the warped being she was now.

She reached into her boot, twisting around silently, and pulled out her wicked second knife before pulling out the other from her hip, feeling the metal graze her skin with a threat. Cocking her head to the side George felt her blood pounding in her ears as she watched the ones closest to her, licking her lips slowly. Reaching out slowly, deliberately, when none of the others were watching, she brought the knife blades dangerously close to the ones near her, toying with each and watching the metal reflect the light dully. Her eyes hardened and her mouth formed into a small quirked grimace like smirk when with a flick of her wrists the snidely powerful weapons bit into the skin, burying deep into the juglar before slashing across the front, forcing her to spin slightly onto her back, and cutting off any strangled cry that could have escaped.

By the time the bodies landed with a thud and the audible splashing of blood on the clean floor sounded she had already span around and kicked off the grating with a loud clatter. She surged through the entrance and had just enough time to punch one guard that had been walking over to check on the bloodied others when she had come through, then she turned and stabbed him straight through the ribs and into the heart, where he gasped and fell to the ground, grasping at his wound. George turned to the others and ducked when a barrage of upper grade plasma shot at her, putting holes in the walls and nearly into the vent where it would have hit Riddick undoubtedly.

“SHIT! Isn’t that one of the prisoners!?” one of the runners yelled and reached for his gun rack, only to find it empty. The ashen look on his face as George turned to him with a sneer, her head tilted disturbingly and her fingers tightening around her weapon.

“Fire, for god’s sake fire!!”

Riddick glanced upwards when he heard open gun fire in the room where his partner had disappeared into. A small amount of dread welled up within him but he pressed it down with a firm hand, his mouth firming into an impatient firm line. His girl had proven she could handle this by herself. Thudding and the sounds of gurgling informed him yet another had hit the floor and from the scent of the massive amount of blood he measured that there were at least four dead already. A final, misfired plasma round sounded, someone that had freaked most likely in the wake of seeing everyone die so suddenly, and there was quietude. Good girl… he thought, kill them all before the alarm is sounded.
His ears filled with the cock of a gun just at the entrance of the vent and he took his cue, rolling off into the grate area above the break room, holding himself up with his hands and feet on the metal shaft. With a blinding light and having to grunt from the force of it, hiding his eyes in his shoulder, the round ripped through the ducts and created a much larger hole, just like he had known it would. They would save the good weapons, the more powerful ones, for right in the control rooms and up top, just in case. All the better for him, he thought with a smirk as he watched the metal twist and glow red hot, waiting for when it was safe to crawl back out.

When he at last did emerge, clicking his tongue in annoyance at how bright it was in the damned room, he surveyed the damage that George had done. Pulling down his goggles he glanced at the litter of bodies, all either slashed or shot, mangled corpses with heads or sides missing, all bleeding out in massive amounts. There was a final groan from one guard before he heard a single clip of an automatic fired into the poor guys head. Riddick then turned to the woman that had delivered on her side of the deal and took in her form.

She was, more or less, un-phased. There were small barbs attached to her arm that were still connected to a taser gun and from those holes were trickling little red trails. Other than that all of the rest of crimson that had splattered her form was from someone other than her, even those that were the controllers that had been shot point blank in the head. Pride swelled in his chest and he took a moment to take in her work, admiring the style it had come with. “Nice, Georgie girl,” he stated in his gravely voice.

George merely rolled her eyes and threw him two automatics and a small plasma that would hook onto his belt nicely. She had already equipped herself, he noted, and he watched as she now wiped her blades off with a loving look on her face. “It’s George, not Georgie,” she quipped.

“And my name’s not baldy, you don’t see me complaining,” Riddick shot right back though he was walking towards the controls. He spotted that she had already shut off the power to all of the rings and that the only reason that this place still had normal lighting was because of the generator in the corner. He glanced out into the darkness of the prison and noted the forms of several inmates walking around in bewilderment.

“Whatever, can we just get this done with? I want a shower, and I bet that ship’ll have one,” George stated simply. She put her weapons back into her belt and then crossed her arms after pulling out the shock barbs.

Riddick merely nodded his agreement and glanced once more downwards towards the triple max. He turned to a monitor that held the position of the elevator, it was now rising, upon command previously put in by his cohort. By the time they got out of here it would be at the top of the double max and they would be on their way to it. George had already gone to the door and was punching in a series of numbers she must have hacked from the computer main console and he found himself admiring the fact that she didn’t need to be helped overly with the technology aspect of this job. Shouldering one automatic and placing the pulser on his hip he walked over to her just as the door slid open and they started out into the dark red barely there illumination of the auxiliary, emergency lights.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Necromongers were the worst kind of shit. They took what they wanted, and if you didn’t have it, then they killed you. They hadn’t even bothered with that convert or die crap, oh no, not her planet, for some reason her planet didn’t deserve to be spared. It was too peaceful, too dull… not artistic enough. The Lord Marshall was just begging to have his ass handed to him by someone like her.

It was no wonder that when her eyes laid upon this Necromonger idiot that had come to scout out the planet she was currently holed up in she had lost it, her vision had gone blurry and her entire body had run cold. She had never killed someone before… the first blow had been an accident really. A wrench, a large one that she used to tune up Floaters around the city with, to the back of the head in the middle of a dark alley… She had just wanted to scream at him, maybe land a few punches and swear a few choice words at his sickening face, but it hadn’t happened that way. Her anger had blinded her. After the first strike the fourteenth had come and soon she could hardly lift her arms, her chest was heaving, and she was covered in blood splatter. He had been dead after the second one, she remembered how his skull had shattered and brain matter had started to mix into the cast off that was thrown from her weapon.

It was wrong, she knew that damn well… but oh god did it feel good. They had killed her planet, her life, her home, everything that had defined her and her existence in this universe. And what did they do? Come in, kill everything, take the planets as theirs, and leave. Though there had been many with the sense to flee the planet, her and her brother being among that had, and there were certainly more of them out there, it was just this bubbling pit of hatred wouldn’t die. It was festering, and the way that the Necroshit’s body was sprawled under her only made that wound open up and become aired, justified, reasoned…

Brown eyes flittered up to watch the moon as she dropped the wrench from her grasp, having cleaned it of prints and making sure she left absolutely no evidence as humanly possibly. That night, this night, with the twin moons of her new home hanging above her and the grey threat of dawn on the horizon, had changed her. She wasn’t just Georgina Collins anymore… no… she was something harder, more feral, and an all together different animal. She liked this feeling… this rushing in her blood. George walked off, leaving the body with a parting spat, and left into the night as something that would never be the same again.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Climbing ropes was never a big deal. They were simple, easy, and as long as you distributed your weight just right on her hands and made sure to shift your center of gravity to somewhere in your torso and not in her stomach or hips, then you were fine. So as George followed after Riddick on the ropes effortlessly, pulling herself with little help from her lower body, they were making good time. He didn’t have to worry about her falling. It seemed like she had done this king of thing before.

But thinking like that could be saved for when they were on the merc ship. So far they had managed to kill the remaining guards on this level that had been outside of the control room. Running to the platform edge they had jumped one after the other onto the dangling cords and secured nylon, Riddick first and then the woman that had just ghosted a bunch of guys in a few seconds flat. Now, they were just making their way upwards toward the hanging elevator that was just a few levels away from them, standing there like some great shadow in the blaring red around them, and a beacon of coming freedom. He didn’t so much as think as his muscles did the work for him, pulling effortlessly, to where it was one fluid movement. Sure he felt the strain, he was heavy because of his build after all, but it was all mind over matter when it came to situations such as these. Georgie girl was probably having an easier time of it than him because she was smaller and lighter.

Though that didn’t stop the fact that they were now so close to elevator they could almost touch it… “You would think the guards would have at least given credit to the thought that someone would find the ducts and use it like that. How stupid can you be?” George’s voice drifted up from behind him.

Riddick didn’t stop but only slowed slightly to acknowledge her question. He thought it over for a second before stating, “they were careless. They underestimated the intelligence of the inmates,” he reasoned. Silence greeted him, a pensive silence, and he knew that George was weighing his words. They continued upwards despite the sudden spark of conversation, climbing through the dark and towards space and the planets that awaited them. It was only now that he was starting to feel the weight of the automatic on his shoulder and the pulser on his hip. He knew he’d need it later, shiv’s could only go so far in a group battle, but he just wished they weren’t easily ten kilo’s each.

“Well then they really are morons. I mean, it’s been scientifically proven that serial killers are in the genius range of intellect,” George’s indignant voice said from under him. Obviously she hated the idea of being thought of as another dumb criminal. Now that he stopped and reflected on it, he hated it as well, and also knew that there was no way in the system to call the red head under him dim.

Riddick let a small quirk of a sneer come to his features as the looming elevator came closer into reach. His silver eyes locked onto it though his mind was working through what his partner had said. Through their past affiliation in this hole conversation had started to flow slightly easier, not to where it could be considered anywhere near normal banter, but it was to the point where they could converse and not just sit and stare at each other for long periods of time with nothing to blurt out. He’d also found that despite the foul mouth, angry at the world attitude, and over all sour disposition that George was actually very witty and smart and could hold her end of a talk just as well as anyone else could. It was making her see you as an equal that was the problem. “Guess that makes me a genius,” he commented blithely.

George made a small scoffing noise from under him but she agreed half heartedly. He knew that she was indebted to him for this little escape, an escape that she wouldn’t have been able to think of on her own, so that meant he was indeed on some levels a very smart man. A smart man that hated to be shackled. His fingers finally reached up and latched onto the cold metal of the elevator bottom, a small relieved breath coming from his chest.

With a tug he pulled himself up and over the edge, landing onto the moving platform silently. He listened to George climb up the side for a second before turning to the control consol, rubbing a hand over his bald head. He scanned over the glowing buttons and scanners, showing the level they were at, in the double max, and ETA on making it up to the top. With a grunt the woman he was working with came to his side, peering around his massive arms and staring casually at the buttons he was now pushing with a casual nonchalance. With a lurch the machine started to move upwards at a slow pace, sparks flying from the joining to the side and a humming filling the air around them.

Turning from the panel he settled himself against it to watch George who was at the edge of the rising elevator, her hands on her hips, and watching the red flashing of the double max vanish into the normal bleakness of the single max. He wanted to know what she was in for. He knew what he was, of course, because he had killed more people than he could count and a good majority of those being hit jobs on very important people. If you wanted someone dead, really dead, with no possibility of betrayal, then you hired Richard B. Riddick. And more often than not those hits had been political. He was the most wanted man in the entire Alliance for what he’d done. Several systems thrown into anarchy, thrown over governments, because of his actions, but as long as Riddick got paid he could care less about those systems. He blended into chaos anyway. If people were too scared for their own asses they didn’t tend to notice him walking down the street.

“If all this goes off without a hitch,” George suddenly turned and stared him down with those intense brown orbs. She shifted to where her guns were against her sides and her arms were crossed over her chest in an attempt to look intimidating, as if what she was about to say was not open for discussion. Intrigued he leaned his head forwards, regarding her with the shine of his eyes, his eyebrows furrowing lightly. She rolled a shoulder before stating with a slightly blank look to her features, “I want to go to the Ihram system. I have business to attend there,” was all she muttered before turning back to watching their ascent.

His curiosity in that moment was piqued. There wasn’t much in the Ihram system, not much at all. It was seen as a desolate deluge of the lowest of the low, scum of the universe, and swarming with mercs. That system was, in a way, their home base, and he wondered in that moment what could possibly possess her to want to go there of all places. The chances of her getting caught and sent back to a slam were high if she decided to go, and he didn’t want to see her picked up and thrown back down here. Not that it was any of his business. It wasn’t his fight… but he respected George on several levels and did not like the idea of her giving up the goose. He was going to ask her what the hell she could desire there when he glanced upwards with a sharp intake of breath. The air was starting to get cleaner, more sustainable, and that was their cue. They could finish this chat later, it was time to climb down onto the bottom.

George glanced over to Riddick and when he nodded with those goggles now pulled over they proceeded to opposite sides of the elevator. Holding onto the railing he descended down the side, going at a steady and firm pace. With the thing moving it was harder to climb over it this way, but if it stopped then there was sure to be warning bells sounding in the wardens brain above, not to mention if the thing lurched and he wasn’t ready then he would fall down to the bottom of the prison and would be dead on impact. He lowered himself farther and then gripped onto the cords and wires that hung beneath, wrapping his hands in the thick bundles and then bringing his feet up to hook into some support frames that were attached the wall they were gliding up. He didn’t need to look to know that George had gotten down as well; he could smell the bloodlust that was radiating off of her. They were in place now… it was just waiting. The calm before the storm was always the tensest. But the good thing here was that they had the element of surprise on their side.

Air was now coming into both of their nostrils as crisp, clean, cold; fresh… it was so much better than the stifling staleness that they had been living in for so damn long. They were going faster now and it would be only a matter of minutes, maybe even seconds. The rings of the single max were going by in a blur of motion, faces and bodies of the inmates stopping to stare in befuddlement blurring into one mass of rusted red, flesh, and wide white. With a small click the elevator began to slow and when at last the rings vanished and all that was around them was rock and stabilizing bars of new metal, shining with health, it came to a jarring halt. The suddenness of no motion took Riddick a second to get used to but that was repressed the minute that his ears picked up on murmuring and confusion laced in the scent of the area.

George glanced over to him, her mouth in a firm line though there was a wicked gleam to her features. He held up a hand, pushing it down palm side and she shot him a dirty look but nodded all the same. They needed some of the idiots on here before they cut the support and sent them to their deaths. Riddick and George however moved silently from the bottom and gripped onto the support bars near by, using their hands and feet as braces, and waited.

“What the fuck is this? Where’re the others, man?” one guys voice suddenly sounded indignant.

Shuffling of a multitude of feet told Riddick that they were dealing with a good fifteen people, not including the mercs that were still on their ship. At least it wasn’t twenty… less was always good when it came to these things. Guns were being moved around restlessly and he could sense that the people above him could tell something was wrong.

“I dunno, maybe they accidentally hit a button or something and it left ‘em down there?” the sound of someone younger, much younger than the first, offered sheepishly. There was a chorus of scoffs and berating of how the idea was idiotic before the person before spoke up, obviously the leader of the armored men.

“I don’t think so. Somethin’ ain’t right here, gents. Someone check on them, use the comm’s,” the gruff and gravely voice stated sharply.

“Why don’t a few of us just use the lift to get down there and ask them what’s up?” another guy muttered, sounding more sure of himself than the kid before him.

There as a pause, a heavy, thick, and anticipatory pause that made Riddick’s skin crawl. His mind was shifting into the killer mode, detached, ready to shed blood without a second thought on it. Riddick the animal was coming out in full, hackles raised, angry and pissed about being locked up in a cage for so long, and ready to rip out all of these guys throats to get to freedom. In the calm of the guards debating what to do, waiting for their captain to make up his mind, Riddick could almost feel the rippling coming off of his body, his excitement growing to expounding levels.

Finally, with a sigh, the captain waved a hand and dispatched some of his troops over to the waiting lift. And to their waiting death. Silver eyes met with brown through dark goggles and both nodded, listening to the men clamber onto the elevator, their heavy boots clanging against the thin metal platting. When there was a satisfactory number aboard and when the lift began to lurch forwards to go downward, both criminals raised their shiv’s and slashed through the support hose and wires with easy swings. The thing stood still for a moment and let out a pathetic whine, shuddering and sputtering against the sudden change. The men all stopped and stared at each other, murmuring in fear of the lifts behavior, before it dropped down completely. It plummeted down far faster than he would have thought it would, falling with the weight of all those aboard and from the lack of any and all railings to the walls. Screams were heard as the men were either knocked off or were trying valiantly to hold onto the railing that would drag them to their ends.

Before the crash underneath could even sound Riddick had flipped over the platform and onto the ground to stare down at the now eleven guards, his gun drawn and his eyes gleaming wickedly. Georgie came up next, pulling out her weapon immediately and opening fire, her teeth bared in a marvelous way and fire erupting from the tip of the automatic. Bullets rained in through the air and though a few had the common sense to draw their weapons and start to fire back those were the first to fall from shots to the throat or chest, hitting hard and causing plumes of red to splutter from the opened holes. Riddick started to open fire as well on those remaining, backing up and taking cover behind a boulder when the stunned men got their business together and started to return fire. He spotted George roll over to sheet of rock that had undoubtedly caved in recently, her guns held in both hands and that same killer look on her face.

Shocks of rock were flying by his face and the pungent scent of gun powder filled the air around them. He span around on his rock and opened fire, taking out another two guards while a bullet whizzed by his arm and opened up a small, burning scratch. George had turned as well with her plasma, fully charged, and fired into the midst of the enemy, a sneer spreading over her face. The charge of blue and green hit two men in the side simultaneously, ripping through their flesh and opening up gaping, gushing red wounds, causing the men to gasp and fall to their knees, griping the fatal injuries. He hid back down after his short round and started to charge up his gun as well, watching the gauge carefully.

“Shit, fucking shit, it’s Riddick!!”

“No, fucking, duh moron! Just kill him!”

“Them, soldier, kill them! Kill the girl too damn it!”

The gun fire was deafening. It was ripping at his ear drums, but luckily just as quickly as they had opened fire it was dying to mere clicks of confusion. The idiots had been firing the entire time, too scared to take their fingers off of the triggers. Riddick popped up and fired his plasma pulser quickly before drawing out his shiv’s and moving into the fray. They all looked up bewildered; all but a few who had drawn out their own weapons, those damn sledge hammers as well as a few that had their own knives in their fingers. Hand to hand was his specialty; there would be no survivors…

Riddick moved like liquid glass, his moves solid and defined, as he stalked towards them slowly and calculated, then stopped all together and held his hands out by his sides, weapons gleaming threateningly. There was a stand off for about two seconds, the guards staring in confused and frightened silence, each of them shuffling around and glancing to one another. Finally, someone got foolish; someone got cocky, and charged at Riddick with his knife drawn and seeking to cut a pound of flesh from the killer. Bad move. That was all tha the needed to start, was one idiot that would start the momentum to end all of this and finally get out of this place.

He span around, using the force of the spin to bring the shiv into the man’s throat without him even seeing the flash of metal, and slashed sideways and downwards, slicing clear through the trachea and cutting through all of the important blood ways. Red spewed from his neck and he fell to the ground with a gasp and sputter, his eyes wide and red starting to seep from his lips now as well, coughing and gripping at his fatal wound in shock. Riddick didn’t stop, he was moving forwards, running, and barreled into the nearest guard that had moved to strike him with the hammer. He stopped the attack with a forearm, not even wincing when he felt the muscles beneath the surface shudder and cry out in agony, but instead brought a shiv right up the man’s face, through the roof of the mouth at the cleft and ripped upwards right through the cartilage in the nose, cutting every single muscle. A scream erupted from the injured man’s throat but Riddick turned and snapped his neck in a single, flowing movement, before kicking a man that had been charging him from the side in the stomach.

His eyes caught a flash of rusted red and noticed George ducking, cutting one man’s leg and then burying her dagger into his stomach, then his liver, and wrenching her blades out, kicking him to the ground and turning to the next man, holding her arms up in a block when he moved to strike her down with his own knife, cutting through the skin on her arms but not anything incredibly damaging. Riddick turned and cut the guy that he had just assaulted in the side, then used him to turn around his back and stabbed him right in the sweet spot. Blood erupted like a volcano from the main vessel of the lumbar system and for a moment Riddick watched in satisfaction as the guard fell down and was dead before he hit the metal of the platform. Pulling his shiv out the hardened man didn’t waste time to thrust it backwards, stabbing right into a soft patch of someone’s stomach, the shadow of their attacking form having given them away.

George punched one man in the jaw with her knife in hand, cutting him along the bone and causing a cry of torture to rip from his chest before the second one was buried in her favorite spot, right in the jugular, where it would slice through the thin skin and would end his life in seconds. With the thudding of the body she somersaulted away from someone with a sledge hammer and turned, holding up her charging plasma that was still on her side and shot right between his eyes. The energy shattered his head into quarters, severing it clear off of his shoulders, and skull went flying. Brains splattered the ground along with the globed and soaring crimson life, and then the headless body fell to the ground with a thunk. She turned with some of the red having hit her on the face, a small piece of brain matter on her hair, before she snarled and punched a man in the gut, walking forwards to the opening of the tunnel with a purpose set in her blazing brown eyes. Spinning her blade in her hand she punched the gasping man again, only this time her dagger was piercing the muscle wall just above the belly button and striking the bladder with practiced precision, causing the sack to burst and to release the poison and the blood held there to seep into the now mortally wounded man’s body.

Ripping the weapon out produced the most wonderful slurping noise and by this time she was right behind Riddick, if not a few degrees to his left, and there were only a few guards left, maybe seven, and they were all locking like cornered rabbits. She came stalking over to his side, her body relaxed and a disturbingly cold, detached look on her face, betraying her as the killer she was trained to be. “Survivors…?” she muttered, making sure that the soft question was loud enough for the remaining to hear.
Riddick turned to her with a grim sneer, his shiv spinning in his hand. “No,” was all he stated.

The majority ran at George first. They assumed she was weaker, that she would be taken out easily because she was a woman. They were wrong… The second someone was close enough, her body still relaxed and in place, her hand thundered out and gripped a man’s throat. Leg sweeping behind him, hitting the Achilles tendon with a sharp jab of her boot, he fell to the ground with a shocked cry, before her hand grabbed a flailing leg at the knee, stabbed behind it in a swift motion, severing the muscles there with a deft twist, before twisting it and slamming her knee down into other thigh, her knife coming down into one of his eyes with a grunt. Her blade met with resistance at the back of the socket before rupturing the wall and piercing into the brain. Pulling out she turned and sliced a man across the stomach that had thought to distract her from a mere seconds long attack, deep enough to penetrate the wall and cause his innards to flood out in a sickening slopping noise. He was writhing on the floor when he hit, his brain having not caught up to the fact that his body was gone beyond repair as it ordered more blood to hemorrhage out of the hole.

A stupid kid had moved to punch him, and so Riddick decided that it was time to show just how good at hand to hand he was and how much training he had in the field of any martial arts. He moved the punch aside, after ducking to the side, and slammed his other wrist into the man’s neck, right into the center and caused his Adam’s Apple to crush wickedly, his voice caught in his neck by a wheeze, agony showing on his paling face. Riddick swept a leg under him, attacking the weakness of the back of the knees. He stabbed through a knee cap before punching the man in the stomach, winding him, and then brought his shiv down into the kid’s man hood, slicing clear through shaft and sack, and watching as his eyes watered, widened, and then shut in a silent scream. Riddick stood and turned to the next man, knowing that the kid would bleed out from the demoralizing shot. He caught the next by his fist and twisted it until he heard the crack he was hoping for, moving just as he would have been stabbed but getting a grazed cut anyway, before slamming his fist up against his nose, forcing the cartilage into his head to pierce his brain. Grey matter drizzled from the wound while a glazed and dazed look came over the guards face.

Riddick span around and stabbed a guy in arm, twisted it, and then ran his shiv all the way up from his forearm along the major vein and watched as the guy screamed and held the wound, his eyes wide. The next second he passed out and within minutes he would die. The sounds of scuffling soon died down and he glanced over towards George, panting and the thrill of battle still gripping his body in firm, icy, exciting fingers. She had just dispatched of the last guy after pulling his knife from her shoulder and using it to cut upwards from his navel to his breast bone, at blank look on her features as the intestinal wall severed and the large and small came barreling out onto the ground. With the final guard gone she stood there, panting, her arm drizzling blood and several splatters of others on her shirt, before she turned to him with a wide eyed look. Insane… crazy… all things he would categorize that stare as, but he knew that it was just the way that her adrenaline was going through her body, how her fingers and toes were tingling, and how her body was refusing to acknowledge the stab. Riddick was sure if his goggles hadn’t been on he would look somewhat the same. He could feel the drying stick of others life on his arms and shirt, one even on his pants, and could feel the burn of some small injuries.

“Where the fuck’s the warden?” she murmured suddenly and straightened, her eyes narrowing darkly. Spell broken Riddick glanced around slowly, merely turning his head, and surveyed the dead littering the ground and causing the metal to run slick with crimson.

Riddick too scowled when he noticed the pig man wasn’t here. “Leave it, he’s not important to the plan,” he stated simply.

“You’re kidding! He’s the one that put us down there!” George shouted indignantly, her eyes wide with disbelief. He shook his head and moved towards the open tunnel and where the small cart was still located. He heard his partner growl warningly but follow anyway, her teeth grinding and her form giving off boundless rage towards him. Riddick didn’t care. As long as they got off this rock then the damn warden could stay alive if he damn well wanted. The only question was where he was at since his guards had been here in such force…

“He’s at the ship,” he concluded aloud and George froze in her climbing of the stairs onto the cart. He could feel her stare boring into his back and he turned, giving her a quirked eyebrow and a sharp stare through his dark goggles. He gazed at her until she finally just jutted out her lower jaw and looked away, continuing upwards and standing in the middle with him. A few punched buttons and taking a seat on the small benches that must’ve come with the merc’s detachable cargo floor, and the thing lurched forwards.
George sat down across from him, her gaze now distant. Undoubtedly thinking of the business she had to attend to… he wondered just what that was again. They had a small ride, maybe five minutes, so he supposed he could spend some time brooding and readying his body for a second fight with possibly a six or seven man crew of mercs, maybe less.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

“You can’t keep doing this Richard. Do you want to end up some whacked up crazy man in a Slam with nothing to look forward to than seeing rock walls everyday?” Chocolate brown eyes lifted up from their bored position of scanning the tiled floor beneath them. The man that was talking was a guidance councilor, sitting behind a massive desk and staring at him imploringly, his hands opened in a sign of truce, but he knew better. They were all alike. All of them. They were afraid of him, always, they hated him, they all did… and they also couldn’t hold him here.

Richard shifted against the chair he was in, his fifteen year old form long and lean and showing the coming powerful frame that would soon come with diligence and a life on the run. He scowled at the man before stating, “what makes you think they’d be able to keep me there?”

“Riddick… listen, do you know the chances of getting out of a Slam?” the councilor pleaded. But Riddick wasn’t listening, he was now staring out of a window at the stars above, the stars that held his ticket out of here. He had robbed a store, with a few buddies, and had beaten up some jerk that had tried to take his money on the street. The money he had just stolen. It wasn’t his fault that the guys face was too frail to stand up to a few punches, that his nose had been broken along with his jaw and cheek. But here he was, Richard B. Riddick, delinquent and over all bad guy, found in a trash can when he was a baby with a cord around his neck, bumped foster home to foster home on New Germany, France, and Spain, and now here, on a space station for Juvenile correction. Too bad they were wasting their time.

He had tried once. He really had. He had tried to stop the raging that went on within his skull, the screaming, the roaring of the animal that lived in his veins… but there was an anger within him that couldn’t be controlled. It was like this anger, this fury, was indefinable, and therefore whenever he had tried to tell the councilor before him about it he had been put on meds, so he had stopped talking about it, and the rancor grew. Now… Riddick had learned to mask it to some extent, but it was still there… whispering, telling him to do horrible things. And now, now that he knew he couldn’t shut it up, he listened and wondered if it would be so bad if he did what it asked, what it wanted, what it demanded. After all, what was a single life when there were billions out there in the universe, hundreds of billions, maybe even trillions? One life meant nothing. His life… meant nothing.

“All right, all right, I get it,” Riddick snapped and stood, putting his hands into his baggy black cargo’s and cocked his head to the side. “Can I go now?”

The councilor sighed and rubbed his temples. He had taken on Richard as a personal case, saying that he reminded him of himself when he was younger. The only problem was, no one understood, no one ever would, so it was pointless. “Yes, Riddick, you can go. Just don’t beat on Bobby again; he hasn’t recovered from last week just yet.”

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The cart came to a slow stop, screeching against the rusting bars beneath it. The tunnel they had been traveling down at a fast, blurring pace, now opened up to the hanger haul of Brigitus S.8 where prisoners arrived and mercs did their business with the owner of the Slam. It was filled brimming with boxes and containers of food, food that Riddick or George had hardly seen in the past few months, and weapons to keep them all in line, as well as parts for the cryo beds down stairs in the triple max. What would have usually been a massive hole within the boxes and containers was a medium sized merc ship that was in fair condition. The outside haul was a greenish color with markings and the name scrolled beneath one of the four wings. The wings each held gunner stations for shooting net rounds to catch the fugitives they were chasing, and there were six large interspatial engines coming off of the back of the surprisingly sleek vessel. It would be fast for its size, both could tell just by looking at it. Now the question was how many mercs were aboard…

The two exited off the of cart carefully, coming behind a tower of boxes and glancing around the corner towards the entrance of the ship, where a step ladder lead down to the ground. Upon the metal stairs stood the form of the pig man, holding a cigar in his hands, and waving around what looked to be a briefcase, looking somewhat peeved. The mercs captain was standing at the top of the stairs, shadowed partially by the opening into his ship, and was shaking his head. Obviously there was a disagreement on how much to get paid for this particular inmate. If the merc wanted… he could just take the inmate back, he wasn’t entered into the books yet, and by all means it was in their rights. The Alliance was surprisingly on the side of its mercenaries most of time, even though they were hardly better than the escaped convicts and bounties that they chased.

“It’s a fair price! Take the damn money,” the warden bellowed.

“No, not for this fine fella. Do you know who he is? He’s a political assassin! He’s wanted on over four planets and his head is worth as much as I want, a million and no less,” the merc captain stated smoothly. The captain looked like a merc, that was for sure, with greasy, long black hair that was tied back in a sloppy pony tail, and baggy, unkempt clothing. Riddick could smell him from here. He could also see the gun that was glimmering in his fingers, held loosely, just in case the discussion got out of hand.

George shifted next to him, her eyes focusing on the scene. This would take some maneuvering. How to kill the warden and the captain and still keep the element of surprise to kill the others? Would the element have to be taken out completely and just enter into a melee? Not that he minded, but it would be much easier to just slip in somehow, kill everyone, jettison the bodies when they were in space, and then head off to Ihram where he could drop off George before making his way to wherever he wanted to go. Either way, this was a fairly large merc ship, much larger than the one they had been brought here on, that meant more people, and that meant the more chance to get injured. Oh well… a ship that size always had a med bay. The girl bleeding next to him needed it already.

“How’re we gonna do it?” she murmured next to him, slinking up to where she was just barely covered by the boxes. Her body was thrumming with bloodlust, he could tell, and the need and promise of freedom was radiating off of her in thick, heavy waves. A caged animal ready to be released.

“Wait…” he stated softly, pushing her back behind him. He could hear the disgruntled noise she made but ignored it.

“Jesus, c’mon, Riddick! It’s right there!” George hissed in his ear, coming up close behind him so that her words wouldn’t reverberate through the massive hold.

“Just wait…” he demanded again and she fell back, leaning against the cold surface of a metal container, her eyes watching the scene with a sidelong, penetrating look. Riddick took a moment to shift silently before settling down into a more comfortable crouch.

“Eighty thousand is a perfectly good price. I don’t need your prisoner, I have two high rollers in here already, and some million priced jerk off isn’t worth jack shit compared to one of ‘em,” the warden said with a sickening sneer on his face.

This piqued the mercs attention and he raised his eyebrows on his pocked face. He leaned forwards on the stairs, “oh really…? Way I see it, there are only a few worth more than this fucker, and the way you’re smilin’ makes me think it’s only one guy. How did you manage to get that fucking shit head…? Richard B. Riddick…?” the mercenary stated with an equally smug sneer.

“None of your business. Now, are you willing to come down off of your price?”

“Nah…” the merc thumbed his chin before pointing the gun, his smirk never leaving his face. With a blast of fire and molten metal the warden’s back was ripped open, a river of red shooting after the hole, and the pig man gasping with shock. He fell backwards off of the stairs and began to roll downward, making a series of cracks and crunches that could mean only broken bones to add to his through and through killing shot. With a snap he landed on his neck and the man died at the bottom of the stairs, leaving a red trail behind him and a smirking merc with a smoking gun. With that taken care of the captain turned into the ship and shouted something neither could hear.

“I wanted to do that,” George swore in his ear again.

“Hold on… here it comes,” Riddick was good at spotting what a certain personality trait would do. The captain of this ship was a greedy fucker, he wanted only money, and if he couldn’t get what he wanted, he had no problems killing, especially if something bigger and better came his way… and that just happened to be Riddick, who everyone thought was still down in that hole, not next to a tower of boxes, waiting for the right moment…
Slowly, single file down the stairs, emerged the form of six different mercs, laughing their heads off at the body at the bottom of their walk way. Their eyes were glimmering with greed and avarice, ready to take the one prisoner in the universe that they could demand twenty million for. There were five guys and one really butch looking woman with a shaved head that reminded him slightly of Jack, a gun over her shoulders and a steely look to her blue gaze. There was only two options in a moment like this. Let them leave and go down into the prison, look for him in the double max, find he wasn’t there, and come back only to find that their ship was gone along with several boxes of materials here, or… kill them all. If he let them live then they could always get another ship out of here and track down the serial number and name, using the navisystem on the new ship with little difficulty and pick up the ion trail. If he killed them that solved that problem and they were home free. It was almost not even a question.

George was getting tense next to him. They were both thinking the same thing it appeared, and both were ready with their blades drawn as the mercs headed in their direction towards the cart. It would be simple now that they still had the ability to ambush, simply come up behind them when they had passed, were puzzling over how the cart had gotten here by itself, and then just take them out while they were stunned to see Riddick there. Sometimes the shock and awe aspect of his reputation worked so well to his advantage…

The captain was the first to go by them and the two shifted to where they were almost glued to the shadows of the boxes, both orbs watching intently. Soon the very last merc had headed by them and were heading towards the cart, laughing and waving their guns around. Cocky sons of bitches… Riddick thought. When they were standing before the platform he and George were already moving behind them, her form slightly behind his, and their steps as quiet as possible. His eyes narrowed behind his goggles and soon he was right behind the first victim, unaware while they were now looking with tilted and pursed looks at why the cart was here when it had been sent back when the warden had come to negotiate. A large hand grasped over the first ones mouth, silencing and muffling any screams, and the shiv did the rest of the work, slicing through the man’s neck like it was butter. He held up the body from making a thud as he watched George come behind the navigator, a scrawny little kid, no older than nineteen, and covered his mouth with a firm hand. The glint of her knife disappeared into his back, right into the spinal column, and he watched as the boys eyes rolled up in his head and his legs collapsed under him, useless in death.

However, the smell of blood was too strong for the other four mercs to ignore and they turned, confused and stunned, and stared upon the escaping convicts. Riddick was the first to drop his body and come to a full, intimidating standing, pulling up the goggles and showing off his glowing silver eyes and the full brunt of his personality.

“Holy… shit… is that who I think it is??” the captain muttered. Riddick stared on as the mans mind sluggishly tried to comprehend this sudden change in situation. Then, he spotted that same glimmer, that spark of ‘I can’t believe my luck’. He was thinking that he was going to be the richest merc in history, go down in the books for taking out Riddick and finally getting the man that no one else was able to. He couldn’t’ believe that he had not had to go down into the actual prison and that the convict had come right to him. Screw the dead men that were now on the ground, and screw the red head that was behind him, and the fact that both of the killers were emanating death, this was the chance of a lifetime! Riddick felt sorry for him, almost…

“Boo,” Riddick hissed and was running at them, his shiv’s by his side and a threatening look on his face. The burly girl ran by him and went straight for Georgie girl behind him, taking out what looked to be a huge machete from the side of her leg.

George watched the big chick come towards her and scoffed, spitting to the side before dodging to the side when she tried to hit her with the large blade. She moved to the side again when she tried to hack away at her, bringing her dagger to her side to stop the attack right at the tip and scrapped all the way up the blade, causing sparks to come off of the metals, and came within an inch of her face, brown eyes sparking with blue. “Wrong person to pick a fight with,” George said simply and then turned around on the girls back by the time she figured out was going to happen, grabbing her shoulders and kicking her hard with her heel into the back of her tendons on her knees, forcing her down to the ground.

The red head circled her for a split second then brought her heel down in a drop kick right into the center of the woman’s back when she was struggling to get up, causing the bones to snap and a screech to form from her throat. With her paralyzed George smirked darkly, her knives spinning in her long fingers directly. “Do I want to kill you…?” she crouched down in front of the terrified looking woman, her head cocked to the side. She put her shank’s edge to her right temple and started to press the blade into the skin, watching as a small ribbon ran down the paled skin. “Give me a reason not to,” she purred at the failing merc, her brown eyes sparking with slaughter.

“I, I,” the woman didn’t get to finish because George stabbed her deftly in the back of the neck, cutting off all function to the brain. She stared at the pretty blue eyes as they slowly glazed over with a thick white film, her breath starting to turn into something rank, and the body convulsing for a second.

“I hate mercs,” George said with a laugh before standing, rolling her shoulders. She glanced over her shoulder towards where Riddick stood in the center of a circle of bodies, pulling his goggles back down. She waited for him to stride passed her and onto the stairs to follow him, finally starting to feel the throb of her arm through the bliss that was the agony of battle. She would have to treat that soon… but first thing first, she thought, time to get off this rock…