Reunion Part 3
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Content/Safety Level for children: CAUTION
While the dark-robed figure slid the headdress off, there was an urgent
situation
forming on the bridge of the ship. “Sir,” Torrel called, staring at her
monitors. “There’s
a ship out there. B Class freighter. It appears to be damaged but I can’t
get a clear
reading,” she spoke, cocking her head to the side. Something wasn’t right
about the ship.
What the hell was a freighter with twin engines that equaled the speed of a
turtle on a hot
day doing outside commercial space shipping lanes? Then again, something
seemed off
about this entire mission...
“...Imam...” Fry whispered harshly. He removed his hood and nodded, his
features serene and comforting.
“Yes, it is I,” he said, in that accent that he had. She fell into his
arms as they
opened for an embrace. A familiar face, a familiar voice. She hadn’t had
that in three
years. And just as abruptly as it came, the emotion was wiped away in order
to make
way for her questions.
“What the hell is going on?” she asked.
“Well, I am obviously not here by chance,” he replied, almost dryly, and
she
cracked a tight smile. Fry relaxed her grip on the gun, her hand now hanging
at her side.
“Tell me what happened?” she asked quietly. Imam lifted his hand to
speak when
the ship lurched! All Fry saw was the top of the bulkhead coming straight
for her face
and threw her arms up, slamming into the opposite wall. Sparks shot off like
fireworks,
red lights flashing and the klaxon screaming directly in her ear.
With a groan Fry pushed herself to her knee’s and saw red, realizing
after a few
moments that it was her own blood dripping in her eyes. She pressed her palm
to her
head hard and tried to listen as the ship-wide comm systems blared to life,
calling all
senior officers to the bridge.
“Imam!” she screamed, her head whipping frantically around, gaze unable
to cut
through the smoke. “Imam--” he scream was cut short as a hand slapped over
her mouth.
Fry’s heart jumped and her eyes widened to see Imam beside her. He released
her and
she stumbled back.
“Go!” he said harshly, causing her to wonder if he was pissed, or wanted
her to
save their asses by flying the ship. Whatever the reason, Fry scrambled to
her feet,
gulping in jerky breaths, and trotted down the corridor, which was tipped at
an angle.
Getting to the bridge, she slammed the big red button on the side and the
doors
flew open and Fry fell through.
“Fry, where the hell have you been---” The rest of Meier’s angry speech
was cut
off as something slammed into the aft of the ship and threw Fry right back to
her knees.
“Damnit, *what* is hitting us?!” she yelled, jumping to her feet and
sliding into
the cockpit, landing in the seat with a hard slap. Opening the window shield
she found
herself staring into the window of a second ship, it’s commander staring back
her with a
sadistic gleam in his eyes.
“Fry, what’s going on?!” It was the captain.
“We’re being *attacked* sire!” she yelled back, one hand strapping her
while the
other clicked at the buttons overhead. “Hang on!” And in a bold move and
burst of
speed, she propelled the ship forward, slamming directly into the freighter.
A scream
could be heard from the rear cabin behind her as the right side of the ship
took the brunt
of the impact. Fry lurched forward, bracing her hands on the bulkhead in
front of her.
She heard someone calling her and sat back, running a systems check.
“Orders, sir?” she
yelled back.
“Destroy that ship!”
“With pleasure,” someone replied, and the next thing Fry knew the ship
jerked
slightly beneath her and there was an explosion of red fire directly outside
her window.
Frantically, Fry hounded the console as power started to fail. “There’s
a hull
breach on level two, coolant leak on 3, and secondary power is shot!” she
yelled, dodging
sparks from the bulkhead.
Hands grabbed onto the back of her chair and, startled, she looked up to
find
Meier staring at her with wild eyes.
“Are the holding cells still intact?!” His voice was frantic, and even
more
annoying in her ear as she pulled up the holding cell sensors. She stopped
and stared,
recognizing the prone bodies of Riddick and Jack inside separate cells on the
gritty
screen. “Still intact sir,” she said faintly. Carolyn’s brow creased. The
figures were to
still, the vid...
Meier’s hot-breathed sigh on her neck made her flinch and move away. She
shit
him a dirty look. Unstrapping, Fry grabbed a large metal case locked in at
her feet and
hefted it up, pushing past Meier. The question of where she was going was
right on the
tip of his tongue, she knew, so she beat him to the punch. “I have a hull
breach to patch
up and a coolant leak to fix. We are running at 50% power and we have no
back-up
systems!” she snapped out, and left, Torrel right behind her. She sent
Torrel to check on
the coolant leak and made her way to where she had last seen Imam, but he,
nor his
robes, were anywhere to be found.
Sighing in frustration, she leaned against the doorway. “Well, at least
I know he
can’t get far,” she muttered. It was *her* ship after all, and she knew
every inch of it
well. Turning, she trotted back down the hall to finish repairs.
A good three hours later Fry trudged, covered in grease, into her
quarters and
threw her tools down. Peeling her clothes off she flung them across the
room, heedless
of where they landed, her only focus was the shower she was about to take.
She stood under the scalding hot spray and watched as black rivulets of
dirty
water swam down the drain absently.
What was going on, where the hell was Imam? She would have had to be an
idiot
not to figure out that Imam was there for Riddick and Jack. But was he there
to cause
harm...he had put them into cardiac arrest, she assumed, when they were in
their
cryo-pods. And he wasn’t too eager to talk to her about what was going on...
She rubbed a weary hand over her face and down her neck to the tan thong
that
held her keepsake of Riddick. She encircled the shiv and accidentally sliced
her palm.
She raised it up and took a swipe at the blood with her tongue before
sticking it under the
shower spray. Looking down she saw the shiv, the one Riddick had used from
that dark
planet, made out of the bone of some creature. With a full-bodied groan, she
turned the
water off and slid the curtain open, coming face to face with Richard B.
Riddick.
Fry gasped, then choked and moved back as much as she could in the small
space.
He lifted one big hand and handed her a towel, a sardonic grin twisted his
lips. Fry clung
to the piece of cloth for dear life, and heard the trickling of laughter
behind him.
Curious, she looked past to see a tall, young woman leaning easily against
the door
frame, slim hips and legs encased in tight, shiny black leather, her top a
dark blue, not
reaching low enough to cover her belly button. Long, dark hair hung in a
braid. Jack.
“Hey, Fry,” Jack said, her voice more feminine. The young woman
straightened
and walked back into the quarters.
Shocked, Fry could only stare at Riddick, but he wasn’t looking at her
face. He
was staring at the shiv hanging around her neck...
//she tried to breath normally in the closed space of the skiv with riddicks
consuming
presence gone. outside she could hear riddick and johns talking and
curiously went to
eavesdrop. but when she had gotten outside they were gone and there was only
a pale of
engine crease mixed with bits of hair beside the small shuttle. Fry moved
forward and
that’s when she caught sight of the bone shiv and picked it up, sliding it
absently into her
pocket...//
“How did you get out...?” Fry whispered. And suddenly Imam appeared in
the
doorway and she nodded, a half-annoyed expression on her face. “Of course,”
she
muttered, pushing past them out of the shower stall. “Things just keep
getting better and
better.”
end part 3
go back to Part 1
go back to Part 2
go to Part 4
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