Part 1:

****************

Hunter Gratzner / 14:00

Cold space, cold steel, and only slightly warmer bodies were reality for the passengers and
crew tucked safely away in cryo tubes. Sleep passed away the time between stops, between
outposts, filling dead space. A slumber that left the base part of the brain awake and wanting,
wanting for movement, momentum, wanting for stimuli. Richard Riddick didn't have that
particular burden. There was never a cryo sleep for him. Awake in a cell smaller than a
grave, shackled and hobbled like a monster ready to pounce, searching for victims, he was
left to listen to weeks upon weeks of the droning ships instruments. The massive metal
womb carried life inside undesciminantly. She wasn't fancy, wasn't sleek, but she cut space
and delivered to her destination. But not this time, not with this crew, or for these
passengers.

Alarms blared through the passenger compartment demanding immediate attention. There
was the rush of stale air as a single cryo tube opened and Carolyn Fry was purged from her
sleep. Owens was quick to follow slamming her to the hard metal grating as he fell on top of
her.

"What the hell is going on?" he barked, shoving to his knees. Glancing around him he was
confused at the apparent lack of evident crisis.

"No idea," she gasped, pushing to her feet and rushing to the head of the ship, heading to
the nav bay.

"Fry!" he shouted, following in a groggy stumble. "Fry!"

The hiss of hydraulics could be heard over the alarms as the doors to operations slid open
and Fry entered and took the stairs to the nav bay .

"SHIT!" she hissed, seeing the nav com lit up like a christmas tree. The proximity alarm
was the next to scream to life inside the cabin as she leaned in to get a better look. She
gaped at the image of another ship as it came into view on the screen, a hundred meters at
mid-port. "Gonna hit!" she whispered.

"Communications!" she screamed over her shoulder as Owens' head appeared behind her.
That seemed to wake the man sufficiently and he charged back to his station. Was the ship
derelict? What was it doing in commercial shipping lanes? Military definitely. Carolyn
watched the screen before her slipping into her flight suit. Below, she could hear Owens'
shouts over the com.

"This is the Hunter Gratzner, a commercial freighter. Please, identify yourself. Repeat, this
is the Hunter Gratzner ........" Sweat trickled from his brow, realizing there was not a chance
in hell they were going to get a reply in time to avert a collision. "Fry, what is she?" he
opened the internal com and demanded.

"A military transport!" she gasped, getting her first real look at her hulking mass, blue
lights flaring along her belly and her name stretching along her battered hull -- Sulaco.
Running at cruising speed along side the smaller freighter, metal screamed and groaned
against metal, unforgiving, uncaring. She sent the smaller ship veering off toward planetary
atmosphere.

****************

Sulaco / 14:00

Similar alarms blared within the confines of her hull, joined with a computer generated voice
warning of an alien life form detected. The bodies inside the cryo beds were quickly roused
as the life support systems began to mix a cocktail of function enhancing drugs within their
veins. Across the bay a run down of names and ranks scrolled across the terminal.

Corporal Dewayne Hicks Private First Class Janice Vasquez Private First Class Adriana
Morgan Executive Officer Bishop Civilian Elene Ripley Civilian unknown

The list comprised the sole survivors of a disastrous military rescue operation to a planet
that had lay in desolation for decades before suits from the Company decided it needed to be
colonized. Ask the crew of the Sulaco and they would agree hands down, VERY bad call.

Hicks and Morgan were the first to be thrown headlong into the waking world of chaos and
mayhem on board. Hicks stood somewhat shakily from his bed, jerking probes from his
chest and rubbing at the bright red circles left behind. He rotated his arm testing it, the skin
was tight but not painful. Next came the test of his facial features. Touching his left cheek
gently he let out a sigh of relief. The skin was now intact and healed, the old acid burns gone
all but the slight scarring.

"What the fuck is this? Our alarm clock?" Morgan, the tall athletic red head, growled. Her
mood was sour with the throbbing pulse of the drugs that slugged along her system.

"Something like that," Hicks' eyes narrowed as he heard the unusual declaration by the
computer system ring through the ship just in time for the remaining cryo beds to slowly
open. He and Morgan turned looking at each other with a deep schooled dread, a fear that
had them at a dead run towards the ops bay.

Bishop watched the retreating figures with concern. There was little assistance he could
offer with his partial assemblage. The lower half of his synthetic body was ripped away,
exposing what would pass for arteries and veins in a human. Ripley was about to roll from
her bed along with the child in the bed beside hers. "NO! Stay where you are. There is
something on board with us," he told her in that computer enhanced clone voice.

Inside ops, the two marines let hands run over dead terminal after dead terminal just as the
whole ship wound down. Painfully slow seconds ticked by before the internal life support
kicked in and emergency lights cast everything in an eerie blue glow.

"Dead in the water, Hicks....." Morgan was saying but stopped stock still as she was about
to turn to the Corporal. "Except for the self destruct sequence. Man, looks like we woke up
to a world of SHIT!" she hissed, finally turning to him.

"How long?"

Vasquez slipped into the ops bay beside them on silent feet about to reach across Morgan to
the com station. The other woman whirled fist raised in defense, stumbling back into Hicks.

"GOD DAMN IT, VAS!" She shouted. "Make some noise or something!"

"Sorry," Vasquez growled, her mood obviously no better than Morgan's.

Hick pushed the woman off of him and asked the dire question again.

"20 minutes, 22 seconds." She shook her head as she pronounced their situation.

"Vas, can you prep the drop ship in that time?"

"I could if I knew her systems like Ferro. But no, not from cold storage," she sighed leaning
on the panel at her side.

"I can do it. I'm cleared for emergency evac protocol," Morgan told him, cracking her
knuckles as was her habit.

"You sure you can do it?" Hicks questioned, looking skeptical.

"Does a certain fuckin bug have acid for blood?" she asked in the way of an answer.

"I'll take that as a hell yes." He turned, running a hand through his sleep spiked hair.

"Ok, this is how were going to work this. Morgan prep the drop ship. Vas you and I will
gather what we can. We grab food, weapons, clothes, as much as we can. Got it?" he
instructed. Both women nodded, following him from ops.

"Hicks, we still got a real big damn problem. We got one with us." She leveled a hard look
at him. "Got any idea which one of us?"

"No." He lowered his head, rubbing at his neck. "But I guess we'll be finding out real soon.
I just hope we can handle it. I pray it's just one of those bastards."

"Yeah, me too," she slapped him on the shoulder. "Hey, be here in 15, all right? That gives
a tight window to get clear of the ship, but I can do it if you're here in 15." She turned,
intending to head in the opposite direction to the launch bay. "Oh, and Hicks. Don't leave
the kid with Ripley. I got a bad feeling about that." She finally disappeared down the metal
corridor.

******************

Sulaco / 14:12

Hicks picked up the slight form of the little girl beside Ripley. "Hey, I can take her. Let
me...." She reached out to take the little girl back as he slung her over his shoulder.

"Nah, I got her," he said, shoving a canvas supply bag into her hands. "You okay, Newt?"

"Affirmative, sir." Her toneless voice tore at him, knowing no kid should have ever seen
the things this one had. He knew how it had gutted her without leaving a physical mark,
loosing her family, loosing her home, seeing death all around her. The only thing that had
brought her through was Morgan. Morgan who had walked through hell and back for the kid
and would do it all over again if she had to, and it look like she was probably going to have to
again.

Inside the launch bay Morgan stood outside the ship pacing. Lets go, Hicks! Come on, Man!
This is cutting it real fuckin close! SHIT!

She looked up just as Hicks ran though the tall double doors that separated this section from
the rest of the ship. "'Bout damn time," she whispered, seeing that he had Newt across on
shoulder. Ripley was hot on his heels, looking pale and pasty. Vasquez brought up the back
carrying what was left of Bishop strapped to her back.

One at a time they piled into the drop ship, finding a seat and securing themselves . Morgan
took the pilot seat and opened the bay's external doors as massive metallic arms slid the
small ship over the gaping hole. It was then that Morgan saw the planet below. She smiled
with relief.

"Land ho, folks," she called through the com. "Hicks, we're in loose orbit around a planet.
Can't tell much about it. Can't seen any bodies of water from this distance."

"Affirmative, just get our asses on solid ground, Private," he responded, relief tinged his
response, too.

"No problem, chief!"

*********************

Hunter Gratzner / 14:17

Fry stood over Owens' body, guilt surging up to choke her, to squeeze her like some
massive constrictor. He had put his life in her hands, they all had, and now she was the only
surviving crew member and had lost three quarters of the passengers. She turned and saw
the red head merc, Johns, staring at her.

"Nothing you could do." He shrugged and turned slipping out of the ripped and shredded
hull.

"That doesn't make it any better, asshole," she whispered, standing and following the way
he had exited the wreckage.

"Any more surv......." she began to ask when a hand lowered to hers and pulled her on top of
the ship.

The prospector, Shazza, shook her head pointing to the miles of debris dotting the landscape
to the horizon. Their attention was suddenly diverted as an overly bright flash filled the sky
in the distance. Pink and blues lined the outter edges if anyone could have look long enough
to see it, but eyes had to be shielded or burned to blindness. Only after the light faded did
Fry notice the scream of an engine, or what used to be an engine, as another ship streaked
through the sky overhead.

*****************

Drop Ship / 14:17

"HANG ON!" Morgan shouted over the com to the cabin in the back. A wave of energy
slammed hard into the dropship, throwing everyone forward into their restraints. The last
farewell of the Sulaco, a ship that had been the only safe haven so long ago. With a deep
resignation Morgan's voice could be heard.

"The drop ship is a dead stick. It's goin to be a rough ride from here on in."

Hicks lowered his head and kissed the little girl beside him on the cheek and took her hand,
hoping he'd be seeing her again soon."Close your eyes, kid."
 

Part 2

Planet: Unknown / 14:40

High on a rock overlooking the particularly nasty looking wreck, Riddick paused from his
run to sit low on his heels, gazing over the horizon. The dark goggles shaded his sensitive
eyes from the sun as he scanned for survivors. Movement. There was definite movement.
He flattened himself to a prone position. Let's see who we can fuck with next, he thought to
himself as he rubbed the hard skin of his wrists, now chaffed from the silver handcuffs that
had been broken at the chain. Keeping an eye on the trail behind him, he slithered down the
rock and moved stealthily closer, keeping on his stomach and pulling himself quickly with
his elbows to get closer in hopes of hearing something that would give him an idea of who
and what were inside the wreckage. He adjusted his goggles and watched.

The small ship lay half on its side, landing gear only partically engaged, metal buckled under
the stress of the crash. Its hull was ripped and gouged in long talon like scars down her
sides. Morgan cut her way out of the restraints that kept her hanging sideways in the pilot's
seat. With a thud she fell to the cabin floor and rolled. She stood as best she could with the
ship laying on its side, stepping carefully between her unconscious crewmates. One by one
she checked their pulses, finding each and everyone steady and strong. Then she looked to
her next area of concern, escaping the metal tomb. Looking directly above her she went to
the electronic hatch.

"SHIT!" she growled. Reaching up, she was barely able to hit the release button. With a
hiss, it did open, opened all of a foot. She glanced around looking for anything long enough
and heavy enough to use for a battering ram. Finally she settled on one of the two smart
guns, sitting in their bay. Grabbing it she checked it's amo status, empty. She lifted it by the
barrel and slammed the but against the thick door. On the fifth hit the door gave some and
opened another foot, several more hits and she had it opened enough to slither out of. She
jumped and grasped the lips of the hatchway and immediately released it. "FUCK!" she
yelled as the metal seared her finger tips. Angrily Morgan jerked her T-shirt over her head,
taking her knife and slicing the cotton neatly in half and wrapping it around her hands.
Jumping up again she retained her hand hold and hauled herself over the edge into the
blazing light of the planet. She rolled along the hull and dropped to the ground crouching,
small patches of skin on her shoulders and arm were alight with angry red patches.

"UGH!!!!!" She screamed, ducking her head and pushing the heels of her hands against
eyes. The pain was almost unbearable, light sensitive eyes suddenly exposed the glare a
unforgiving sun.

In the distance, Riddick watched as the woman shimmied from the wreckage. "Hello! What
do we have here?" he whispered as he watched her movement. He noticed the material
wrapped around her hand and shook his head.

No, baby. You should know better than to touch wrecked metal. What were you thinking?

She was definitely military. Hard to miss that. He ducked his head lower as he watched her
shade her eyes to try and scan the area. He knew that, in his position just behind the sun, he
was virtually undetectable. Without shades, he'd be impossible to spot from her area.

Morgan dropped her hand and squinted, trying to make out the landscape around her. But
there was nothing but blurred images and contrasts. She pulled the long bladed knife from
the fatigues she wore and clutched it protectively, ready for a fight if any should present
itself. She shook her head trying to clear her vision more.

Riddick's goggled eyes fixed on the blade. Knife gal, huh? Right after my own heart. His
eyes moved to the door of the wreckage. Alone, was she? Knife or no knife, that could
prove interesting.

Morgan wasn't one to give up just because she couldn't use her eyes, no sitting there
feeling sorry for herself, no fear. Years ago she learned that she had other senses to rely on
and learned how to use them. Screwing her eyes tight, she lifted her face to the breeze and
inhaled deeply. There was something there, something out of place in the arid breeze, just a
hint of a scent, not enough to identify. But she shifted in that direction anyway, pulling in
lungs of dusty air. Provoke, challenge, a game. She slammed the butt of the knife against the
hull of the ship, causing a loud metallic reverberation to ring out.

Riddick raised and eyebrow and grinned as he saw her inhaling, then rap the hull of the ship.
He knew what she was doing. He had been there ... used the same sense before. It was an
instinct of survival.

That's right, baby. I'm out here. I'm watching you.

He turned to assure himself that he was not being followed yet. Gordeva and Frye ... they
were both very smart women. He'd have to erase his trail. Hide in the rocks. But he sure as
hell wasn't going to go very far from baby.

Ears attuned to her surroundings suddenly picked up movement above. With a feline agility
she spun on the balls of her feet, knife close to her body ready to strike. Then Hicks' voice
rang out.

"Easy, Morgan!" he shouted, lifting Newt out of the wreckage.

"Forward, four paces, and take the kid," he instructed, as she remained stock still. Her
thick red bread still swinging against her back.

Riddick's eyes narrowed as the tall, slim man extracted himself from the metal carrying a
kid. Who the hell are you, then? Didn't even know the man, and suddenly didn't like him.
His face twisted into a grimace.

Morgan followed Hick's voice. The idiot actually thinks he needs to tell me where he is! She
lifted her arms and had the kid deposited into her arms. "Hey Squirt, you okay? Didn't
knock anything loose in that noodle did it?" She ruffled the thatch of blonde hair on Newt's
head as she held her close, smiling at the girl.

"Morg, what's wrong with your eyes? They look all funny," she asked, reaching out to run
her fingers over Morgan's cheek.

"Nothing a little time won't fix, Kid." She reached for the Newt's hand, gently pushing it
away.

Riddick looked with squinted eyes at the little girl. Okay, so she was cute. But what the fuck
were these people doing bringing a kid into a situation like this? A slow boil started inside
him as he felt an irrational sense of protection for the kid. Stupid parents. Should be shot.
His face twisted even more. Now he knew why he hated people.

Hicks' voice had her turning back to the ship and letting Newt squirm from her arms.

"Private, take it," he grunted, as he hoisted out the other smart gun from the interior, then
threw the supply bags out into the sand. Morgan grasped the heavy gun and worked it's
firing mechanism. Hicks jumped free of the wreckage making room for Vasquez to exit on
his heels.

"Where's Ripley?" Morgan growled, just as she noticed Newt moving out of the shadows of
the ship. "Hey, stay put!"

Riddick crawled back a few feet as he saw others exit the wreckage. Shit! How many people
were on that hunk of junk? He adjusted the goggles again, wishing for the millionth time
they were higher powered binoculars. He'd sure like to get a closer look at baby, not to
mention the loser she was with. Kid was kinda cute, too. He leaned his chin on his hands and
settled down to watch the 'show' as the sun created an impressionistic haze.

Getting no response from her other team mates, Morgan shouted. "Where the FUCK is
Ripley?" With the smart gun slung over her shoulder, she made a move toward the hunk of
twisted metal.

"Just cool off, Morgan!" Hicks barked, grabbing her shoulder to stop her. "She's still
unconscious."

"GO TO HELL, HICKS!" She shoved him hard, going nose to nose with him. "We still got
that pesky little problem to worry about now, don't we? So look, I know I don't have one of
those bastards growing in me. How about you? How about Ripley? Can you answer that
Hicks? I mean, isn't it a little fuckin odd that she's still out? When she came outta cryo she
looked bad man, real bad!"

"She's right, man!" Vas chimed in, her latin accent even more pronounced, just shaking off
the effects of cryo sleep and the confusion of the crash.

Looking over his shoulder, Riddick assured himself that he was safe and turned his face
back to the group ahead of him. Well what the fuck do you know. She hit the loser. Trouble
in paradise? The other woman seemed to be getting into the fray as well. Looks like the
loser doesn't have a way with the ladies. Figures. Not only is he a loser ... he's a pansy, too!
He grinned. Looks like baby's the only one worth her salt.

Hunter Gratzner / 14:40

Brigadier General Gina Gordeva rubbed the stiffness from her neck as she viewed the
landscape with a cynical glare. Sensing the approaching figure, she turned, shaking her head
as the blonde haired woman moved beside her who cradled her firearm like a baby.

"Take a look out there, Frye. What do ya see?"

The woman shrugged. "Sand? Rock?"

Gina nodded. "That's right. Sand, rock, and more fucking sand and rock that we have to
fucking climb over to see what the hell is happening out there." She shook her head. "Can't
anything ever be easy?"

"That would be too convenient." Frye chuckled. "Besides ...that's why you get the big
bucks, right, G.G.?" She slapped the other woman gently on the back and lifted her weapon.
"Lock and load?"

Gina nodded. "Yeah. Let's stay prepared." Checking her own weapon, she threw her head
toward the horizon. "Assume non-friendlies until we learn otherwise."

Frye nodded in affirmation. "You got it, G.G."

Johns turned in a slow circle looking at the desolation that surrounded him, that surrounded
them. With an irritated sigh he tossed a parting look at Frye and her commando buddy,
thinking that the blonde probably preferred that type instead of a man like him. He shoved
his way into the back of the wreckage, swatting hanging conduits and dead hydraulic lines
out of his way. Finally stumbling into the passenger compartment, he looked at the cryo cell
where Riddick should have been. The clear door had been practically ripped from its frame,
twisted, and discarded. He scanned the rest of the compartment crouching low to minimize
Riddick's target if he was it.

"SHIT!" he hissed, reaching for the gun that was usually strapped to his side. Moving
farther into the cabin, it became clear Riddick wasn't laying in wait. The man had already
made a run for it.

Gina turned as she heard the commotion inside the vessel. She turned to look at Frye as the
two beat a quick path toward the noise.

"What the fuck is going on in there?" she snapped, her weapon locked and ready.

"Relax! It's just me." Johns' form appeared through the chaotic tangle at the rent in the
ship. "Got a problem, Ladies," he said, eyes narrowed, barely able to contain the rage that
boiled towards the surface. "Riddick. He's decided to take a little afternoon stroll," he
shouted, as he moved farther away from the two women and the mass of metal.

"MERDA! Che cosa può accadere dopo?"

"Goddam, G.G. -- English, will ya?" Frye fell into step beside the general as they sprinted
after Johns. "That Italian crap really pisses me off sometimes."

"Deal with it, Sunshine," snapped Gina. "Johns! Keep in view! I don't want your sorry ass
disappearing on me."

Johns glared over his shoulder. "Sure thing, soldier girl. I'll do that just as soon as I join up.
But until then I don't take orders. So, keep 'em to yourself or your little pet there." He
nodded towards Fry, eyeing her with a appreciative stare.

Gina sped up and whirled the barrel of her weapon at the back of his knees, knocking him off
balance and throwing herself onto his torso, her knees buried on either side of his neck and
her weapon aimed at him head. "Listen, you little prick! Hell only knows what's out there
and I am not going to lose someone just because you want to play fucking macho man! WE
ALL GO."

"Just fuckin do it! I ain't takin your shit, bitch! So, either blow my head off and get it over
with or get the hell off me!" he spat, glaring up at her.

She lowered the weapon and moved to pin him down with an arm on either side of his face.
"Like it or not, Johns, WE ARE IN THIS TOGETHER." She paused for emphasis before
adding. "Besides, for some insane reason, I happen to care about your pathetic butt." She
shoved off of him and assumed defensive position with her weapon.

Frye stood, stunned into silence, at the display between the two. Bonding in a maniacal way?
She chuckled to herself. Who the hell could tell?

Shoving to his feet, Johns strode over to Fry. "I think that belongs to me, sweetheart!" He
took the modified shotgun from her hands. "I never thought we wouldn't all go," he said,
turning to the general. "I just ain't about to be told how fast to or not to walk. Got it?" He
turned and started off at a even pace again.

A glance over his shoulder and he could tell Fry was pissed at him. What the fuck did he
care? She probably just viewed him as merc scum anyway. He found that thought totally
depressing. The only woman on the goddamn planet that he even remotely had any attraction
to and he'd managed to piss her off.

Carolyn Frye looked at the seething Gina, shook her head, and quickened her step. In
seconds she caught up with the hardened man. Falling into step with him, she was very quiet
for the longest time before breaking the silence. "She's just worried about you. Like it or
not, Johns ... you're one of us. We all worry about you." Her voice had a soothing quality that
she hadn't known she possessed.

Johns gave her a side long glance, a little surprised, a little uncertain. "Yeah, well she has a
funny way of showing it. Hell, it's not like I was plannin on leaving the rest of you behind,
especially with Riddick out there. Probably watchin us right now, deciding on which one to
pick off first." He gave a cursory glance around the area. Then turned to look back at the
stragglers behind. With a dread, he realized it would probably be the kid, Jack, first or the
holly man's three charges. All adolescent and easy pickings for Riddick. He'd start out
small, creating enough panic in the rest to make the game interesting. Johns had witnessed
it before, knew how the man worked. "Just stay close, okay? I know your chummy with the
general and all but she don't know this guy, she don't know Riddick."

She knew how serious he was, but suddenly an amusing thought came to her. "You think
that I'm a little TOO chummy with the general?" She had to chuckle. "Johns, you have it all
wrong." She sighed, all too aware of how impossible it was to have any sort of personal life in
a group this tiny with only a few kids, a woman, a holy man, and a man who would just as soon
kill her as look at her. Oh.....and let's not forget Riddick ... psycho from hell. Oh yeah. Easy
breezy to get laid. She shook her thoughts. "You have it ALL wrong."

"Hey, look ... you don't have to explain to me. I mean, whatever gets you off, sweetheart.
It's none of my business." He shrugged, trying not to sound like her really gave a shit either
way.

She gave a deep sigh. Oh, yeah. Fucking piece of cake. "I realize that my sexual persuasion
is both none of your business and none your interest. But, just for the record ... I'm strictly a
man's woman." Another grumbling sigh. "At least I'd fucking like to be," she whispered
unintelligibly. She grasped his shoulder and pointed to some high rocks in the distance.
"Think those might make a good cover? Or too easy?"

Johns' eyebrows practically shot into his hair line. This sweet little piece actually has a
problem getting laid? Not a fuckin single way, he thought. He had to shake himself back to
the moment as he realized she was asking him a question. "No, too predictable." He relaxed
his hold on the shotgun and moved his arm just enough to brush hers as they walked. "So
you're not a dyke, not that great of a pilot, that about cover it? Just what are you then,
Frye?" He gave her a brief grin before turning back to his survey of the stark landscape.

Damn, hope she has a sense of humor! Yeah, your one to talk Johns! Humor would have to slap
you in the head for you to recognize it most of the time.

She looked at his back and grinned. A little shock seemed in order. "What I am is a sexually
frustrated woman who is missing the electronic conveniences that keep her sane so she had
to create a big crash to simulate orgasmic ecstasy. Not a bad job either, huh?" She smiled
prettily. Turning quickly, she noticed that Gina and the group stopped a bit behind them to
survey the opposite area. She then turned her attention back on Johns' back, her sweet
smile still plastered.

Jesus! She just said that? I was hallucinating? She actually opened her mouth and that's what
came out?

He stood stock still in his tracks. A genuine smile turned his lips up at the corners. "Not
bad," he replied. Resuming his stride, he shook his head. "Hell, if a crash's all it takes sign
me up for a few more."

A sarcastic chuckle. Whether she shocked him or not ... it was out there. Hell, maybe it
would relieve some frustration just to talk about it, if not do it!

"Hello, genius! Look at the ship! That was a one orgasm per customer flight." She sighed as
she continued walking beside him ... conversation actually flowing freely now. "Now I guess
it's back to old faithful." She cut her eyes to him. "Hey, Johns. You really thought that I had
a thing for women?"

Johns gave her another side long glance, wit failing him for a change. "Ummmm.....Well,
hoped you didn't but just kinda assumed you did. I seen the two of you together and ...." He
let the rest of what he was saying trail off, not exactly sure what point he was getting at
himself.

She nodded. Why the hell was she suddenly getting excited? They barely survived with their
lives, they were looking for a crazy man, god knows if they'd even survive this planet, and he
thought she was a lesbian.

Great fucking time to get aroused, huh, sweetheart?

"Oh, I see," she said, trying to keep on task. "Two women can't be friends? Can't
commiserate together? Two women together are automatically doing the horizontal hump?"

He turned on her then, not meaning to be as aggressive as he came off. But frustration and
just a hint of fear would do that to a man. "It was a hell of a lot easier to make myself believe
you preferred pussy than to keep telling myself you're off limits. One fuckin psychotic out
here is all we need. Get the picture, Carolyn?"

She stiffened. Well, so much for sexual banter and an attempt at adult flirtation. "Yeah," she
said with anger and a hint of embarrassment. "Yeah, I get the picture. I prefer a good cock
so that means I'm a lunatic and will try to fuck every man here, right?" She pushed away
from him, deciding now to return to Gina and carry out her duties. "Fuck you, Johns."

He sighed, relaxing some without being bombarded with her tangy scent. Pissed her off
again! Royally this time, he thought with certainty. "Hey Fry, I was referring to me, not you.
Picture getting any clearer?" he said, turning back just in time to see the streamline
dropship on the horizon, older model but military for sure.

She whirled around, oblivious to what he saw with the offense that shot though here. "Listen,
Johns ... just because you're a manly man with a great ass does not mean that ..." Her voice
trailed as she viewed his vision. She moved to press against his shoulder, peering over it.
"That's it?"

"The other ship ... or what's left of it," he supplied, staring back at her. "Great ass, huh?"

She looked at him and shook her head. This is NOT the time to get moist, Carolyn, she
berated herself. She tried to keep a sneer in her voice ... but it turned out husky. "Oh, fuck
me, Johns. Like you don't know you have a goddam great ass. You work on it enough with
all those fuckin exercises you do."

This was getting to him far too much. Time to focus on what was ahead not behind, no matter
how in dire need of it he was. "Yeah, well let's save that for a private little hole somewhere,
okay?" He squinted his eyes, trying to make out the figures hovering close to the wreckage.
It was soon apparent that they were going over salvage. There were things on the interior of
the ship that were important to them. Johns knew it was just that type of thing to draw
Riddick.

Carolyn took in a cleansing breath. Perfect. She put all that fucking baggage in frnot of him
and forget to zero in on what was important here ... what her job was. Damn, him. Another
thing for him to use against her. She stepped away from him and squinted beside him. "No
worries, Johns. I'll save my private hole and you don't have to think a thing about it." She
stepped forward, shading her eyes. "Think he's about nearby?"

He grabbed her arm as she tried to step around him. "I'll be thinking a lot about that hole,
Carolyn," he told her. "A lot." His lewd remark released a slow primal gnawing inside
himself. He proceeded forward and in minutes they were near enough to the crew of the
drop ship to shout a greeting of sorts.
 
 

Part 3:

Morgan shot to her feet at the sound of an unfamiliar voice at a distance behind her. Vision
much improved, she still could only make out blurs of activity among the rising heatwaves.
The smart gun she had been so engrossed in repairing was forgotten.

"What...." she began, only be to cut off by Hicks' yell.

"Colonial Marines! Identify yourself!"

Riddick's eyes jerked to the line of direction the shout was thrown. Oh fuck! Time to hit it.
Later baby. He eased back and began a fast, steady run.

Tilting her head at that moment, Morgan was certain she had heard a scraping -- metal on
rock. A sound she knew well too well.

"General Gina Gordeva," came the return announcement. "Hold your fire ... approach for
discussion?" She tried to keep Johns in check as she awaited an answer to the political
request to prevent weapon fire.

Morgan and Vasquez let out a combined grown at the title general. Ripley surged to her feet
where she had sat coughing incessantly for the last fifteen minutes. Newt rushed to
Morgan's side.

"You two stow that shit! She's rank! Respect it!" Hicks growled, trying to sound every bit as
in charge as Apone had back when he lead them into Hadley's Hope, into hell.

"Approach, weapons status, safe!" he yelled out across the rock and sand.

Gina nodded to her group, taking the lead. Carefully she walked, fingers on the trigger in
case it was needed. Moving carefully to the unknown group, she quickly assessed the leader
and stopped in front of him, nodding respectfully. "Gina Gordeva ... general." She nodded to
the wreckage. "Casualties?"

"None, Ma'am. Just the ship." He didn't bother with the usual military formality. In fact, he
was nearly knocked off his feet by her. A General? Not the type of general he would have
figured. She was all curves and lightly tanned skin, business but an understanding and
compassion in her eyes.

"Drop the Ma'am, soldier. Not exactly into saluting and such here." A weary smile partially
covered her face. "Gordeva will do." Her eyes scanned the group and then returned to him.
Tall and physically fit. Perfect military specimen. The auburn haired woman was a feminine
version of military perfection. "Johns, Frye, you two scout the perimeter while I get the
details here. Keep tight. Johns, leave the macho stuff here, capiche?"

She turned to the man in front of her, whom she would have considered pouncing on if
situations were different. Instead, she cocked her hip and shifted the weight of her weapon.
"Gotta a name, soldier?"

Johns flaired. "Fuck you, Gordeva. I told you I don't take orders. I'm going after Riddick."
He turned without so much a a glance at her.

Hicks turned glaring at the other man, muscles drawn tight with tension. He'd love nothing
more than to take Johns head off. "Better learn a little respect, man," he hissed.

"Respect? Earn it." He glared back at Hicks, the men trying to stare one another into
submission.

Gina hid the surprise she felt inside well. A man, actually taking up for her position? Okay,
in less intense times she would definitely be all over this guy. "Let it drop, soldier. I'll just
shoot him if he gets too out of hand."

"Yeah, meet at high noon then?" Johns turned his glare on her, challenging her with every
breath he took and patting the shotgun holstered securely at his thigh.

Gina closed her eyes and mumbled under her breath. "Goddamn fucking prick."

"Yeah, well, it's been lovely chatting with you but I have an escaped con to track down." He
turned, sarcasm dripping from his voice, and took several steps away from the wrecked ship.

Hicks stood on one side of the couple listening, anger boiling through his gut. Usually the
man's civilian status would give him lead way in Hick's eyes but not this man. Things were
going to get ugly between then and real quick.

She slowly opened her eyes and looked into the soldier's. "He's not military. Been butting
heads since day one. I keep an eye on him and take him down when he gets too hard to
handle."

Morgan was on the other side listening just as intently, but for a totally different reason.
Escaped con? There was that voice in the back of her mind screaming that he had been
close, the convict.

Gina turned to Carolyn. "Fry, follow him. Make sure that he doesn't get himself killed."

Morgan patted Newt's shoulder gently and moved her way from her. "You stay with Hicks or
Vas, ok? Stay away from Ripley." She looked towards Hick and saw his attention turn on her.
"I mean it, kid. Stay away from Ripley!"

Ripley looked stunned hearing the other woman's words. "Jesus, I'm not going to hurt her. I
helped save her!"

"Yeah, but that was before." Morgan, tried to be tactful but failed miserably." Hell, before
we went to sleep on a real dark ship. With lots of time for god only knows what to happen."

Gina's eyes narrowed as she listened to the redhead. Something went down. Some really
serious kind of shit.

She viewed the surviving persons behind the soldier, her eyes stopping on the kid. "Quick
report," she instructed lightly as she moved to stand beside him, looking at the child.

Hicks attention was torn between the two women. Morgan was new to the unit, or what was
left of it, and he didn't know her reactions yet, didn't know what to expect with her.

Hicks voice brought her to a stop not more than a dozen steps from him. "Morgan," his
voice was low in warning.

Vas look up from her duty as temporary medic to see what had Morgan and Hicks at odds
now. It didn't look like it required her input so she went back to checking over the new
comers one at a time.

Gina decided to lay off and let the soldier handle his people. She'd get that report later. As
well as his name.

"I'm going Hicks. One of us needs to be out there. Don't like it? Throw me in the brig," she
ground out, her back to him. Then she disappeared into the sandy landscape.

Hicks turned back to Gordova. "Name's Hicks. Corporal Dwayne Hicks." Then he launched
in the run down of the time between coming out of cryo sleep till the moment they met up.

**********

"Hey what's the problem?" The kid that Vasquez had just learned was Jack asked. Nodding
her head toward Morgan and Hicks. "Who's the little girl?"

"This will likely cause some problems, " the holy man, Imam, said.

"Morgan's just been out of rotation awhile -- just jumpy." Vas replied, shrugging her
shoulders.

"So, what happened to your other ship? I mean, there had to be a bigger one, right? You
cann't travel in that little tin can." Jack smiled, trying to coax answers out of Vas.

"Mire al cabrito, all I know is that something set off the auto destruct and we couldn't shut it
down. Enough questions, ok?" Vas near hostile gaze bore into Jack, leaving no room far
argument.

************

Morgan watched the two others' backs she glanced behind her every few feet, the idea of be
snuck up on totally unappealing to her.

Johns was doing the same, curious about the marine. He nodded at Carolyn and whispered.
"You catch her name? What the hell happened to their ship?"

"I'm a marine. Far from deaf, Johns, isn't it? But if you wanna name, all you have to do is
ask." She shook her head, glad to have a reprieve for the other military stiffs.

With lightening speed, a hulking form jetted past a formation of rocks and barreled directly
into the sunlight. It was overly bright, the three suns illuminating in triplicate, and he knew
that was his only chance for escape. A far distance ahead of them, he continued his race with
the determination of a survivor.

Fry snapped at Johns, "Over there!"

"Oh hell!" Morgan, sighed as she sprinted after them. Let them catch him, she was just
along to watch the show anyway.

He knew he was being followed. Riddick could hear and smell them a mile away. Fuck ... all
this just because he couldn't pull himself away from baby. You don't want this, Johns. Trust
me, you don't fucking want this. He continued his stride.

Johns knew he had to cut him off or loose any chance of recapture. In a split second he was
darting around a high rock tower, shot gun barrel already swung in mid ark. He came around
the formation practically at Riddicks side. The barrel connected and sent the other man
pitching to the ground. Fry was the next to arrive to witness Johns kicking the hell out of
the downed man, beating him with barrel of the shot gun. For a split second Johns hoped it
would go off right there and blow the Riddick in half.

Frye stopped in front of the men, her mind whirling with contradictions. Should she allow
Johns to continue, most likely until Ridick was dead, or should she be the voice of reason.
Finally, she gave a pitiful attempt. "Johns," she shouted loudly. "Get the fuck off of him."

Riddick intensely felt every blow, every kick, every laceration from the gun barrel ... and
still his mind focused on two things ... killing Johns slowly and painfully ... and grabbing baby
and running. One would give him pleasure ... both would make his life complete.

Johns never saw the figure bolt past Carolyn, never saw the impact coming. But he sure as
hell felt it as Morgan slammed into him sidelong, sending both of them sprawling into the
dirt.

"You just get the fuck off of him you animal! You don't hit a man when he's down, con or no
con! You make me wanna puke, Johns!" she shouted, rolling around in the dirt like two sand
scorpions facing off. Finally, she landed a blow to Johns' jaw that seemed catch him off guard.

Johns nearly landed an equally punishing blow to her right eye before he realized what he
was doing. It didn't matter that she was a grunt, she was still a woman. He slammed his fist
into the ground beside channeling all his frustrated rage into the displaced sand. "That's
Richard Riddick! He's a fuckin murder! He's just waiting to take one of us! It's only a matter
of time!"

"I don't give a shit what he did or who he is! Cuff him and take him in you stupid merc
bastard!" she shouted into his face.

Riddick pulled his head up slightly and was barely conscious of the scene in front of him.
Baby? Fighting for him? Fry ... gawking over Johns, as usual .... and Johns out of control.
Fuck them, he thought as he strove to hold on to consciousness. Fucking kill the lot of
them. He closed his eyes. Except Baby, he determined as the pain overtook him. She was
worthy.

Carolyn moved to step between the two adversaries, her back to Johns with her ass holding
him back while her arms were held out to keep the Marine chick from going spackoid again.
"All right you two, just cool the HELL off!" She stared at Riddick for a moment. "Get the
cuffs on him and take FIVE Johns." She whirled on he woman. "And you, calm your ass
down!"

Morgan threw up her hands and backed away. She'd intervened where she should and now it
was time to step back. "Cuff him and the problems solved," she said, looking to where
Riddick lay unmoving on the ground, stark red blood seeping into the sand.

Johns reached for the cuffs tucked in the pocket of his pants and they were gone."FUCK!"
he yelled turning in a circle scanning the ground.

Carolyn's eyes flew to Johns. "Well? Where the hell are they??"

"Gone!" he growled.

"Oh man! You came after this guy and no cuffs?" Morgan began to laugh, to actually laugh.
"Hope sleeping beauty don't wake up! He'll be mighty pissed." She was nearly rolling with
laughter.

"I had the goddamn cuffs. And don't you laugh at me, bitch!" he yelled, making a move
towards her.

"Hey!.....Hey!.....I'm not laughing at you. It's just ... damn, could the day get anymore
perfect?"

"Why don't we just quit fucking sniping at each other and pretend we're on the same side
here," Carolyn snapped. "First things first. Let's figure out a way to secure the prisoner."
She was beginning to get a little nervous looking at Riddick, even if he was out like a light.

"Ok....Ok.....I got it......" Morgan said, looking over to where Riddick still lay. She stripped
the thick leather belt she wore from her fatigues. "Better than nothing," she shrugged,
moving to the prone man. In seconds she had his hands behind him and had him tied like a
prize steer. She watched closely as he started to rouse, looking him over. A cut at his
shoulder was still bleeding so, without better means, she placed the palm of her hand over
the laceration and applied pressure.

Fry looked at the bound man, satisfied that they were safe for the moment. "Nice job ... uh
...what'd you say your name was?"

"Morgan." she replied looking up at the other woman."That hard to remember, Carolyn
Frye?"

Carolyn tensed instantly, showing a side that Johns rarely saw. "Not hard at all, MARGO,"
she said, intentionally getting the name wrong and mentally making a note to ask G.G. the
Italian word for bitch. "Like I said ... nice job." Grabbing Johns by the arm, she dragged him
off to the side for a relative amount of privacy.

"Ok.....Hell, I'm just making friends right and left today." She shook her head and lifted her
hand slightly to check the bleeding wound. Still bleeding.

***************

Keeping her hand on Johns' seething shoulder, Carolyn spoke in hushed tones. "Calm it
right down, you fucking hear me? I need you, Johns! I need you calm!"

"I'm about as calm as I'm going to get, Carolyn." He looked over her shoulder to Riddick.

"You can't just beat the shit out of him! ESPECIALLY not in front of witnesses." She
slapped at his shoulder. "What the FUCK were you thinking??"

"Bringing him in. Doing what it takes to bring him in," he said, meeting her turbulent eyes.

Looking into his eyes, she had a sudden thought. What a fucking waste. All the passion and
intensity that was so obviously wound up in him ... and he gives it all to a murdering con. For
moment ... only a moment ... she imagined what it would be like having all that passion
directed to her. She shook the thought from her head.

"Well do us all a favor and bring him in alive and in tact! Last thing we need is to alienate
these people immediately, and watching you rip a man's face off just may be a great start in
doing that!"

"Yeah, I'll do that." He ran a hand through his hair, trying to redirect some of the aggression
that surged to the fore front so easily.

She let her hand run soothingly over his muscular upper arm. "Now, let's get him back to
the others so we can make sure he's secure."

"Yeah....Yeah......" He moved past her, trying to block the feel of her hands on him. He
mentally shook himself refocusing his attention on Riddick.

Carolyn stood still for a moment, hating herself for allowing his pushing her away to affect
her. Stiffening her shoulders, she turned to refocus her attention as well.

***************

Riddick stirred, feeling the sting of the gash in his shoulder mixed with the pain of pressure
being applied. With a grimace, he began to struggle slightly, testing the bonds. "Got any cuts
of your own there, baby?" he growled, his voice animalistic and husky.

She tilted her head starring into the mirroring goggles covering his eyes. The rumbled voice
through his chest still tingled in her fingers, not a wholly unpleasant sensation. "No, I fared a
little better than you did, looks like." She lifted her fingers and still blood flowed, not a deep
cut but an ackward one kept it bleeding.

He watched as she lifted her fingers. No cut on her hand. Fucking hell. Luck was definitely
his enemy.

"Look, you think you can walk? I don't know how much longer it's gonna be before your
friend over there drags you back to our little party." She glanced over her shoulder to where
Johns and Carolyn were in semi-quiet conversation. "Shit, he really hates you." She turned
back to Riddick and pulled her hand slowly away from the cut, wiping the blood on her
partially bare torso.

His voice was deep and gravelly as he watched her moves, his hidden eyes remaining on the
streak of blood on the smooth skin of her stomach. "Won't rest until I'm dead. Or worse."
He struggled slightly, only enough to test the binds, but not enough to be evident. Oh yeah.
Baby was good. Fucking good. Knew how to get her man at heel.

"He might not have much longer to wait." She sank back into images of LV-426, the heel of
her hand going unconsciously to her chest, rubbing, trying to forget that there would be a
birth soon. "None of us have long to wait, I'm guessing," she whispered absently.

"Talk to me," he said huskily, watching the hand carefully.

"Can't." She wiped her bloody hand across her dry mouth. "The shit that's going down is too
fuckin sick for even me to talk about." She sighed, just then realizing his blood was covering
her parched lips. With a decadent smile her tongue flicked over her lips, cleaning them. Her
body fairly hummed with the sweet essence of blood. Hadn't been the first time she had
tasted the warm coppery taste and wouldn't be the last time.

A slow, lascivious smile spread his face. His throat rumbled contentedly. "Set and sealed,
baby. You put the gears in motion." His tongue caressed his full lips. They were on their
way.

"What?" She was jerked back to the man below her. She waited for him to repeat himself,
another glance over her shoulder making sure Johns was still at a safe distance.

Sultry sensuality dripped in his voice ... his body the embodiment of raw sexual tension. "We
shared blood, baby. Hooks us in a way that runs so deep nothing can break it." He paused
for effect. "Go ahead. Fuckin tell me you didn't feel it."

"Oh, I felt it. Felt it all the way down." She shrugged, pinning him with a challenging stare.
"But blood or not, I don't roll over that easy." She sneered. "And fuck calling me baby. You
can call me Morgan, unless you prefer Private."

Tingling with the effect of her sneer, his cock started to spring to life. Her eyes said it.
Whatever her mouth was saying, her eyes were telling him that she wanted to roll over and
spread them for him. It wouldn't be long and she wouldn't be able to deny it. She was just
like him. He could sense it. Blood was mixed and they had to purge the heat that ignited
from it. It was instant for him. If she was half the woman he thought she was, it would be very
soon for her. "Morgan's a powerful name. A name you deserve." He started to struggle
slightly again as his wrists chaffed and legs numbed from the awkward position ... all the
while his hard dick raging. "As for rolling over ... never said I like it easy, baby." He licked
his lips again.

"What the fuck ever, Riddick." She shook her head, helping with a little leverage of her own
and he was sitting in the dirt instead of laying. "It's a clean tie. You're not gonna break it,
not gonna pull out of it. Just get use to it for now." Her knee came up to give him a place to
lean. "Easy's for pussies anyway," She smiled despite herself.

He sighed as he felt the knee against his back. "Think it's obvious there's no sign of pussy
in my make up." He fixed his gaze on the horizon. Fucking hell ... taking longer than he'd
hoped. No worries. It would come. He'd just ease back and before long she'd be wet for him.
"Good leather. Strong and biting. Feels good."

Looking over her shoulder, she could see the boy scout was coming back for his merit
badge. Impulsively she leaned in close to Riddick, a long sigh pushed over her lips near his
ear. "I just bet it does."

His dick hardened even more. Was that excitement he heard? He stiffened as he felt Johns
approaching.

Morgan clamped her mouth shut, not wanting to cause the man any more trouble than Johns
had already dished out. She stood running her fingers along the shorn head as she stepped
away.

Carolyn stalked behind Johns, a scowl entrenched on her face. She wasn't really certain if
she was pissed because of the inhumane way that Riddick had been treated, or upset
because she was actually able to calm the merc while her fires still raged uncontrollably. Oh
well ... at least she could hide it. It paid to be a woman. He'd never, NEVER know he
effected her so much. SHe tried to focus on the matter at hand.

Johns hand clamped around Riddick's biceps and hauled up. "Time to move," He scowled at
Morgan. "You okay?" he asked, sparing Carolyn a concerned glance.

Shit! Just a little touching. Just wanna kiss her! No Johns, you wanna fuck her.

"She's marked, merc," he breathed, eyes blazing behind the goggles as he was shoved
harshly.

"Shut the FUCK up!" Johns hissed shoving Riddick ahead of him.

"I'M FINE," Carolyn snapped loudly, trying to avert an incident. She looked at Johns, her
voice soothing again, goddammit! "I'm fine. Let's just get back to the others."

Morgan moved ahead of him, taking point. Watching for any movement in the shimmering
heat of the planet.