Future Shock: Chapter 9: Introducing Damien (Date: 2 yrs + P.B.)

Jackie shifted nervously in the small hard seat of the shuttle her, Imam and the others
were crammed into. Accidentally she nudged the close-seated Mona in the ribs with her
elbow. The older woman sucked in a breath sharply and Jackie apologized silently with
a nod of her head not daring to disturb the uneasy peace in the small space, but her
movement caught the male Ranger’s attention. “Everything okay back there?” he
asked, raising an eyebrow. Though he had addressed the question to all of their
‘guests’, his gaze fell directly on Jackie, making her blush. Ha had nice eyes, she
noticed, really deep, really blue.

“We are fine,” Imam replied coldly, conscious of the gaze that lingered between The
Ranger and Jackie. “But we would very much like to know where you are taking us.”

“Sure thing,” The Ranger smiled in an easy going yet somehow menacing manner,
“we’re heading to Mr. Damien’s cruiser, the lead ship in our little caravan. He’s
requested a meeting with you which is usually when I’d tell him to suck me, but I’ve
since considered thinking twice before going against that psycho. My name’s Thomas
Janes, my friend here,” he gestured to the female Ranger with the oddly colored eyes
seated in the pilot’s chair to his left, “goes by the name Sian Rhona. and you are?”

Imam stared at him defiantly. “We are the ones whose homes you destroyed, whose
friends you slaughtered. We are the survivors of the lost colony J8-T3.”

“Fair enough,” Janes nodded, a small pang of sympathy echoing in his voice. “We’re
coming in, better buckle up.” Through the viewscreen, Imam could see a large
Company cruiser opening its giant docking bay door like a gaping mouth, preparing to
swallow them whole.

They were led from the shuttle to the cruiser’s captain’s lush and opulent personal
lounge. A vast plastisteel viewscreen looked out onto the black velvet curtain of space
and expensive looking art lined the gray metal walls. Seated on several plush couches
were at least a dozen other survivors from other destroyed colonies. They looked up
fearfully as Imam’s group entered.

“What does this Damien guy want with all of us?” Jack whispered to Janes who just
shrugged in return. “Never can tell with that asshole,” he told her. He gave her a playful
grin. “Don’t let him fuck you around.”

“Don’t let him fuck you around,” she replied sharply. “I can take care of myself.” Imam
and Mona had already joined the others and now the Muslim looked towards Jack to do
the same, but instead she hung back near the far wall hoping to fade out of the room’s
dim fluorescent light into the murky shadows so she could observe without being
observed, something she learned from Riddick.

“What’s your name?” Janes asked quietly, melting into obscurity alongside her,
leaning into her so close that she felt his hot breath playful against her neck and
earlobe. He laughed when she answered Jack B. Badd and for the first time realized
just how ridiculous it sounded. She’d been a stupid kid when she’d made it up and
those days seemed treacherously far away now. “What is that?” Janes shrugged. “A
nickname or a ...”

“My real name’s Audrey,” she heard herself blurt out, surprised at herself for having
spoken it aloud and how strange it sounded passing her lips for the first time in years.
Only her father had called her that and, hopefully, he was dead by now. She’d never
even told Riddick, and she was embarrassed at having told Janes. She found herself
blushing as she amended, “Everyone just calls me Jackie.”

“How old are you?” he inquired, and when she answered sharply ‘how old are you’, he
laughed again, a breathy sort of excited sound. “You’re a tough one, aren’t you? I
mean, nothing gets through to you.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve been through a lot,” she said, crossing her arms across her chest and
trying desperately to avoid letting him know how she was responding to the closeness
of his body. “What’s going to happen to all of us?”

Janes shrugged, “Wish to God I knew. Can’t go back home, that’s for sure. Don’t tell
anyone I said so, but this whole conflict is getting out of hand. Ain’t gonna be nothing
left put here for anybody to claim by the time the Company’s through.”

Suddenly a hush fell over the room as a tall, elegant stranger in a neat tailored
uniform stepped through the door at the far side of the lounge. His demeanor was cold,
sneering, as he crossed the plush crimson carpet, his arms tightly folded behind him at
the small of his back. “Damien,” Janes confirmed in a hushed whisper to Jackie. His
eyes were dark, almost solid black, as he silently scanned the crowd, the long fleshy
scar running from his brow to the corner of his full lips only adding to his intimidating
presence. “Are these them?” he asked, stopping just short of two survivors, one a
middle aged Iyysh man with a distinguishing gray beard, the other a young Spanish
woman who trembled as Damien looked her over. Sian nodded in confirmation and, in
one fluid movement, Damien drew his gun and fired. The girl’s limp body crumpled to
the floor with a dull thud, blood slowly pooling on the carpet around her lifeless head.

With a startled and dismayed shout, the Iyysh fell to his knees. “Paulo!” he cried,
desperately brushing the hair from the fallen woman’s face, hoping by some miracle
there was something he could do to save her. Her blank eyes stared up at him, cold,
gone.

Damien looked down on them coolly, not moved in the least. “Let that be a lesson to
those who would turn against us, to those who would turn against the Company.”
Jackie shivered. So that’s why Janes was still here despite his obvious contempt for his
superior. Damien had no mercy, no heart, especially when it came to Rangers who had
changed sides, turned traitor. He promoted fear over respect, terror over command.
and for Rangers to be scared of anyone, well, it meant he was not a man to be fucked
with.

Damien leveled his gaze at the other survivors, ignoring the weeping man at his feet
as if he was so much garbage. “I do not take hostages,” he said evenly, menace oozing
from his voice. “I have no use for prisoners of war. You have been brought here for a
very specific reason as, even as we speak, I am eliminating the other survivors aboard
the Indestructible. And yet you are here, the mayors, the self appointed community and
religious leaders of your ... former colonies. Colonies that were believed to have
harbored, at certain points in time, dangerous criminals and enemies of the Company.
One in particular sought and was granted refuge on several of your worlds. He is a very
dangerous man, traitor to the Company and a convicted murderer. He can harm us, he
has tried to in the past and, at every turn, has managed to elude me. He is a worthy
opponent.” Damien held out his hand, his palm upward as if he pictured the criminal he
spoke of was sitting right in the middle of it. He curled his fingers inward into a fist and
yet the man still managed to slip from his grasp.

As if snapping out of a trance, he focused once again on the small huddled group of
survivors. “And that, my friends, is why you are here. You see, I WANT RICHARD B.
RIDDICK!”

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