Nothing to Lose, Chapter 2
Disclaimer: If you recognize it, it ain't mine.
Story: Nothing to Lose
Chapter: Turn the Page, 2/?
Rating: Strong T for language.
Summary: Jack goes back to Imam to get some answers about the past.
She was finally back on New Mecca. It had taken a little bit longer than the two weeks she’d anticipated, but she’d at least made it there in one piece. As she stepped off her ship and onto the port she still felt a lingering sense of unease; as if the ground under her feet was constantly moving, shifting, and only gave the illusion of stability. She almost turned right around back onto her ship and got the hell out of there, but she just told herself that it was nerves and started walking into the city.
It wasn’t like she had a feeling of impending doom or anything, but she could sense that change was in air; too far away to see exactly what it was, but close enough to make you squirm in anticipation. Besides, she had questions, and she was goddam sure going to get some answers.
She made her way to Imam’s house blending in with the crowd so completely, she was nearly invisible. After her run in with Toombs, she did everything in her power to make sure she’d never become a victim again. After she escaped in the emergency skiff, she drifted in space for god knows how long eventually being picked up by a transport shuttle. The crew took her in, cleaned her up, and gave her some food.
Once they’d seen the extent of her wounds, they’d tried to get her to talk about what happened to her. Did she have any family they could contact? Did she know who did this to her? Did they need to send out a search party? Should they call the authorities?
But she never said a word the whole time she was there. She just sat in the med bay, clutching a dagger she lifted from one of the mercs like a security blanket. As soon as they reached Helion Prime, she jumped off the transport and with a few credits shed managed to snag from the passengers and crew, bought herself a ticket to New Mecca.
But after she saw Imam and his new family, and felt the sting of his betrayal, she ran back to the spaceport and stowed away on the first ship getting off that planet; getting off on Helion 5. She made friends with a local gang of thieves, and from there the education of Jack began. At first they were a little apprehensive about letting her stay, but in the end she proved herself willing and capable and they relented. She learned how to fight, move, pilot and plan. And in return, she helped out with any “jobs” they had.
She moved with sure-footed determination and didn’t make contact with a single soul as she made her way through the crowded streets of her old home. It was like she wasn’t even there.
When Jack made it to Imam’s house it was almost dusk, and she could see Imam with his wife and child sitting down to dinner. She took up a stance in an alley across from his house, the same one she was in last time she was here. She would wait until they went to bed before she’d make her move. She wanted a chance to talk to Imam alone, without the wife or the child around to distract him.
She leaned against the building, becoming one with the wall. She stood there motionless for roughly five hours before she made her move. All the lights in the house went out about an hour ago, but she wanted to make sure she wouldn’t stumble onto someone as she entered the house. Jack casually walked up to the front door, as if she had every reason to walk into the now alien house in the dead of night.
As she approached the keypad she began to take out her palm decoder to let herself in when a strange thought truck her. I wonder if he’s even changed the codes since I’ve left? She quickly punched in the ten-digit code she learned by heart in what seemed like a lifetime ago. A slow smile of satisfaction grew on her face as she got the green light and heard the “ping” that let her know she’d entered the code correctly. Some things never change do they?
The house hadn’t changed all that much since she’d been gone. It still had the same furniture, all the same colors, just a few new knick-knacks here and there, and lots of pictures of the family. She could have been perfectly silent if she wanted to, but she wanted Imam to wake up and come downstairs, so she made sure to move her feet a little louder and put down some things she’d picked up a little rougher than usual. She focused in on a picture of all three of them dressed up in their “Sunday best” at a very formal looking affair. They all wore beaming smiles, but looked too stiff and stuffy. There but for the grace of the Gods…
-----------------------------------------
Imam awoke with a start. He wasn’t quite sure what woke him, so he stilled his breathing, listening for anything out of the ordinary in his house. Then he heard it. It was very faint, but he was sure that he heard someone moving around downstairs. He lied motionless for a few moments, just to make sure that his ears weren’t playing tricks on him, and yes, there it was again.
He slowly got out of bed so as not to rouse his wife, and very cautiously made his way downstairs. On his way down, he stopped and picked up a cricket bat he had in the closet. He gingerly shut the door and continued on his way, determined to stop the intruder and protect his family.
He walked through the kitchen and the dining area to see a slim silhouette in the living area of his home. He tip-toed around the dining table and stayed in the shadows, carefully making his way to the living area. He planned on sneaking up to the light switch, hopefully distracting the thief long enough for him to get the advantage. He made it to the opening of the room and his arm was rising towards the switch, his fingers were inches away from it when he heard a voice he never thought he’d hear again in his life.
“So holy man, what happened to all the pictures of me?”
--------------------------------------
“Young Jack, is that truly you?” Imam asked as he flipped the switch. Jack blinked momentarily allowing her eyes adjust the light and took her first god look at the man who had been like a father to her. He hadn’t changed at all in five years, same close cut hair and beard, glasses, the only difference was his nightshirt was of a higher quality than the ones he wore when she saw him last.
“In the flesh,” she flashed him a grin. “It was damn considerate of you not to change the security codes on me, Imam. But maybe not the smartest move you could make.”
That was all she got out before Imam had rushed her and threw her into an incredibly tight, and slightly uncomfortable hug. “I knew that one day Allah would bring you back to me young Jack,” he said into her hair, his voice thick with emotion.
Jack hadn’t been expecting this reaction, although she wasn’t that surprised, but she was a little uncomfortable with this much physical contact with a man who seemed to have forgotten about her. But part of her (a very small part) wanted to feel loved, cared for, missed, but she quickly identified these as weaker emotions and got herself back under control. She still needed answers and couldn’t have Imam thinking she was a complete and total bitch right away, so she begrudgingly put an arm around Imam in her version of returning the hug.
Imam seemed to sense her discomfort and pulled back to look at more fully.
“My child you have grown into a beautiful young woman. I am so pleased to see you again.”
Jack tentatively smiled back, “It’s good to see you too, Imam.” Then she frowned, “But seriously, what happened to all the pictures of us, I don’t see them anywhere.”
Imam had the grace to look sheepish and put an arm around her shoulders, “Come child, let’s go into my study and we will speak.” Jack allowed herself to be steered into the study and looked around.
“Everything’s just as I remember,” she said to him as she took off her cloak and tossed it on the chair in front of his desk. Imam went to the far side of the room and sat down on one of the two chairs there. He motioned for Jack to sit in the one opposite him, but she walked to the side table where there was a decanter of brandy and poured herself a rather large glass. Imam didn’t drink himself, but he always had some on hand for company. Once her glass was full she made her way over to Imam and in one fluid movement sat down on the vacant chair, crossed her right leg over so that her ankle rested on her left knee and took a sip of the brandy.
“So, what happened to the pictures of me and you?” she asked very calmly with a slightly sardonic smirk on her face. She looked on the walls where her pictures used to be, one of her and Imam in front of their house when they first moved in, her first day of school (Imam had insisted on that one), birthdays, and other various outings and special occasions.
Imam let out an impatient sigh and said, “I haven’t seen you in five years and all you can do is ask about what happened to your photos? You might tell me where you’ve been and what you’ve been doing with yourself.”
Jack knew he was avoiding her question and decided to throw him a bone. “I’ve been traveling. Seeing knew things, meeting new people, learning new skills.” She took another sip of her brandy and didn’t even wince as it went down. Jack reveled in the feel the instant heat flowing through her veins and to the rest of her body.
“You know Imam, I’ve been surviving. You seem to be doing well, though. You’ve made some definite improvements to the place.” She looked not only at the expensive brick-a-brack that was scattered throughout the room, but at the pictures now hanging on the wall. Some were of his family, and in others he was meeting and shaking hands with various powerful and influential people.
He smiled in return and she didn’t think he caught her double entendre. “Yes, I have indeed been blessed with good fortune since we arrived on this planet. I have everything I could ever ask for, including a new wife and a beautiful daughter.”
“Your wife,” Jack ran her finger over the rim of her glass as she spoke. “She worked at the consul, didn’t she? I think I remember seeing her there.”
“Yes, Lajjun, that is when I first laid eyes on her, but I would always see her at the market and the mosque as well.”
“And your daughter’s name is…”
“Ziza.”
“That’s a beautiful name,” Jack said as she got up and took a picture off his desk. “And she’s a beautiful little girl.” She put the picture back down and turned to smile at Imam. “You must be very proud.”
His face practically glowed with the love and pride he obviously felt for his daughter. “Yes, I am indeed very proud, and very blessed.”
Jack walked back over to her chair, “So, what happened to all the pictures of me?”
Imam sighed and ran his hands over face, “Jack, you have to understand, I mourned your leaving as I would the death of my own child. The fact that you could just leave like that, after all we had been through together without so much as a goodbye, or even a note and you have to ask me why there aren’t any pictures of you anymore? What did you expect Jack?”
She couldn’t keep a smile off her face. Well…it was more a grimace than a smile. A combination of amusement and disbelief washed over her features. “Hold on holy man, you think I ran away?!Why would I do that?! I was on my way home from buying groceries for dinner at the time. Why would I go to the market I was only planning on leaving you? Not to mention all of my shit was still here!” Throughout her speech she was having an increasingly difficult time keeping her voice low and even.
“Of course you ran away child, I know you missed him and went to look for him. You knew how I felt about him and how I thought you should move on with your life and you completely disregarded my wishes and went looking for him anyway! But you could’ve left a note child, or at least called every now and then to let me know you were alive.” He let out a long sigh and looked directly at Jack. “After we were married, Lajjun saw how devastated I was by your loss and suggested I take down the photos of you, so I would not be reminded of my loss.”
Jack just stared at him, mouth agape, in disbelief. She didn’t say anything for a few minutes and then finally bellowed at the top of her lungs, “YOU THINK I FUCKING LEFT HOLY MAN! YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED!! You have no idea what I went through just to make it back home only to find myself not only replaced, but erased by that bitch! And how long had your precious Lajjun been here before she suggested that all traces of me be removed completely, like some hideous stain she couldn’t stand to look at, huh? She never liked me. I told you that whenever we saw her! She was all smiles when she looked at you, but she looked at me like something she just scraped off from the bottom of her shoe!”
Imam stood up and glared at Jack. “Such talk like that is uncalled for and I won’t have it in my house! I understand you’re upset Jack, but I will not tolerate this abuse from you.”
At this point the door the study swung open revealing a very disheveled and very surprised Lajjun standing at the door. The sudden opening of the door startled Jack and out of reflex, she pulled out one of her knives and was poised to attack, which only further agitated Imam’s wife.
“Jack, put that away immediately,” Imam ordered as he walked over to his wife.
But she was still stunned and staring at Jack. “Bb-b-bbut you’re supposed to be dead,” she stammered as she pointed a shaking finger at Jack.
And that’s when it all made sense to Jack. Everything finally clicked, and all the tumblers fell into place. And then her vision started to get hazy, she could hear a roaring in her ears, and her breathing was becoming rapid and shallow. She had to get out of there, NOW! Before she did something she’d regret (well, maybe not regret, but something she didn’t want added to her growing list of felonies).
She shot one final icy glare at the two of them, finished the considerable amount of brandy left in her glass, walked over to pick up her cloak hastily throwing it on over her and turned to her former family one last time. “I’m sorry Imam,” she said. “Coming here was a mistake. A moment of weakness if you will. So just forget you ever saw me,” she let out a small humorless laugh. “You’ve already forgotten I ever existed. So, have a nice life and take care.” She then turned to Lajjun and put her finger directly in her face, narrowed her eyes (which were shooting daggers at this point) and in her most menacing voice possible told her, “And if I so mush as even feel someone following me, your life will be forfeit!” In a move that was too fast for either Imam or Lajjun to see, Jack had whipped out a knife and threw it at a family picture hanging on the far wall of the study, and it landed in the exact center of Lajjun’s face.
With a flourish, Jack turned, her cloak flaring out behind her stalked out of the study only to stop short at seeing Ziza at the bottom of the stairs, looking at with wide eyes. The young girl tilted her head to the side and with an innocent smile on her face asked, “Who are you?”
Jack stared at the little girl and took in her bright smile, friendly eyes, and all around loving demeanor. “I’m no one kid, just a ghost,” and walked out the front door and back to her ship.
She’d made it back to her ship unscathed and without incident (which was a freaking miracle considering her state of mind), got clearance for take off and was pulling out of atmo when she saw the family pictures in her mind. In particular the one she saw earlier where everyone looked stiff, but they all seemed to be overjoyed and Imam’s little girl, her smile was radiant. That struck her the most, because it could’ve been her.
“Yeah,” she said as she set a course for the one planet she could always count on to loose herself and have a good time. “There but for the grace of the Gods…”
---------------------------
It took Imam at least two hours before he finally got Lajjun somewhat close to calm. In the end she was so distraught over what had happed with Jack, he ended up giving her a mild sedative. Ziza was curious about what had happened in the middle of the night and started to ask her father who that strange woman was and why her mommy was so upset, but with a wave of his hand he brushed it away and told her they could discuss everything in the morning.
Imam had a lot to think about. He had always assumed Jack had run off to find Riddick. He knew how much she admired and looked up to the escaped convict, and simply thought she grew tired of waiting and went off in search of him. Patience was never one of her strong suits.
But what she said and how she behaved got him thinking. What really happened five years ago? Jack had left before he got a chance to question her any further and he new she never liked Lajjun, but why was she so hostile towards his wife? He walked back into his office and found it difficult to believe that she had ever really been there. It was all so surreal, like a dream, but the proof was sticking out of a picture hanging on his study wall. He walked over to the said picture and with a quick tug pulled her knife out of the picture.
Imam looked at the picture more closely and saw that the slit in it was exactly in the center. He let out a small chuckle, “She always did settle for nothing less than perfection,” he thought to himself. He then walked over to his desk, sat down, and picked up the phone; he had a phone call to make.
-------------------------
He was dog tired when he walked into his apartment. It had been a long day. The sun was just starting to rise as he walked through the door. He put his bag down on the couch and walked over to the cooling unit and pulled out a beer, drinking half the bottle before moving into his bedroom. He set his beer down on the bedside table, sat down on the bed and started to pull his boots off. Once both boots were undone he kicked each one across the room and reached for his beer.
He took another swig and then looked over at the clock, 6:15, it was time for a shower and then some much needed sleep, but then something caught his eye. It was his phone right next to the clock. The red light was blinking. Somebody had left him a message.
----------------
Chapter 3
Story: Nothing to Lose
Chapter: Turn the Page, 2/?
Rating: Strong T for language.
Summary: Jack goes back to Imam to get some answers about the past.
She was finally back on New Mecca. It had taken a little bit longer than the two weeks she’d anticipated, but she’d at least made it there in one piece. As she stepped off her ship and onto the port she still felt a lingering sense of unease; as if the ground under her feet was constantly moving, shifting, and only gave the illusion of stability. She almost turned right around back onto her ship and got the hell out of there, but she just told herself that it was nerves and started walking into the city.
It wasn’t like she had a feeling of impending doom or anything, but she could sense that change was in air; too far away to see exactly what it was, but close enough to make you squirm in anticipation. Besides, she had questions, and she was goddam sure going to get some answers.
She made her way to Imam’s house blending in with the crowd so completely, she was nearly invisible. After her run in with Toombs, she did everything in her power to make sure she’d never become a victim again. After she escaped in the emergency skiff, she drifted in space for god knows how long eventually being picked up by a transport shuttle. The crew took her in, cleaned her up, and gave her some food.
Once they’d seen the extent of her wounds, they’d tried to get her to talk about what happened to her. Did she have any family they could contact? Did she know who did this to her? Did they need to send out a search party? Should they call the authorities?
But she never said a word the whole time she was there. She just sat in the med bay, clutching a dagger she lifted from one of the mercs like a security blanket. As soon as they reached Helion Prime, she jumped off the transport and with a few credits shed managed to snag from the passengers and crew, bought herself a ticket to New Mecca.
But after she saw Imam and his new family, and felt the sting of his betrayal, she ran back to the spaceport and stowed away on the first ship getting off that planet; getting off on Helion 5. She made friends with a local gang of thieves, and from there the education of Jack began. At first they were a little apprehensive about letting her stay, but in the end she proved herself willing and capable and they relented. She learned how to fight, move, pilot and plan. And in return, she helped out with any “jobs” they had.
She moved with sure-footed determination and didn’t make contact with a single soul as she made her way through the crowded streets of her old home. It was like she wasn’t even there.
When Jack made it to Imam’s house it was almost dusk, and she could see Imam with his wife and child sitting down to dinner. She took up a stance in an alley across from his house, the same one she was in last time she was here. She would wait until they went to bed before she’d make her move. She wanted a chance to talk to Imam alone, without the wife or the child around to distract him.
She leaned against the building, becoming one with the wall. She stood there motionless for roughly five hours before she made her move. All the lights in the house went out about an hour ago, but she wanted to make sure she wouldn’t stumble onto someone as she entered the house. Jack casually walked up to the front door, as if she had every reason to walk into the now alien house in the dead of night.
As she approached the keypad she began to take out her palm decoder to let herself in when a strange thought truck her. I wonder if he’s even changed the codes since I’ve left? She quickly punched in the ten-digit code she learned by heart in what seemed like a lifetime ago. A slow smile of satisfaction grew on her face as she got the green light and heard the “ping” that let her know she’d entered the code correctly. Some things never change do they?
The house hadn’t changed all that much since she’d been gone. It still had the same furniture, all the same colors, just a few new knick-knacks here and there, and lots of pictures of the family. She could have been perfectly silent if she wanted to, but she wanted Imam to wake up and come downstairs, so she made sure to move her feet a little louder and put down some things she’d picked up a little rougher than usual. She focused in on a picture of all three of them dressed up in their “Sunday best” at a very formal looking affair. They all wore beaming smiles, but looked too stiff and stuffy. There but for the grace of the Gods…
-----------------------------------------
Imam awoke with a start. He wasn’t quite sure what woke him, so he stilled his breathing, listening for anything out of the ordinary in his house. Then he heard it. It was very faint, but he was sure that he heard someone moving around downstairs. He lied motionless for a few moments, just to make sure that his ears weren’t playing tricks on him, and yes, there it was again.
He slowly got out of bed so as not to rouse his wife, and very cautiously made his way downstairs. On his way down, he stopped and picked up a cricket bat he had in the closet. He gingerly shut the door and continued on his way, determined to stop the intruder and protect his family.
He walked through the kitchen and the dining area to see a slim silhouette in the living area of his home. He tip-toed around the dining table and stayed in the shadows, carefully making his way to the living area. He planned on sneaking up to the light switch, hopefully distracting the thief long enough for him to get the advantage. He made it to the opening of the room and his arm was rising towards the switch, his fingers were inches away from it when he heard a voice he never thought he’d hear again in his life.
“So holy man, what happened to all the pictures of me?”
--------------------------------------
“Young Jack, is that truly you?” Imam asked as he flipped the switch. Jack blinked momentarily allowing her eyes adjust the light and took her first god look at the man who had been like a father to her. He hadn’t changed at all in five years, same close cut hair and beard, glasses, the only difference was his nightshirt was of a higher quality than the ones he wore when she saw him last.
“In the flesh,” she flashed him a grin. “It was damn considerate of you not to change the security codes on me, Imam. But maybe not the smartest move you could make.”
That was all she got out before Imam had rushed her and threw her into an incredibly tight, and slightly uncomfortable hug. “I knew that one day Allah would bring you back to me young Jack,” he said into her hair, his voice thick with emotion.
Jack hadn’t been expecting this reaction, although she wasn’t that surprised, but she was a little uncomfortable with this much physical contact with a man who seemed to have forgotten about her. But part of her (a very small part) wanted to feel loved, cared for, missed, but she quickly identified these as weaker emotions and got herself back under control. She still needed answers and couldn’t have Imam thinking she was a complete and total bitch right away, so she begrudgingly put an arm around Imam in her version of returning the hug.
Imam seemed to sense her discomfort and pulled back to look at more fully.
“My child you have grown into a beautiful young woman. I am so pleased to see you again.”
Jack tentatively smiled back, “It’s good to see you too, Imam.” Then she frowned, “But seriously, what happened to all the pictures of us, I don’t see them anywhere.”
Imam had the grace to look sheepish and put an arm around her shoulders, “Come child, let’s go into my study and we will speak.” Jack allowed herself to be steered into the study and looked around.
“Everything’s just as I remember,” she said to him as she took off her cloak and tossed it on the chair in front of his desk. Imam went to the far side of the room and sat down on one of the two chairs there. He motioned for Jack to sit in the one opposite him, but she walked to the side table where there was a decanter of brandy and poured herself a rather large glass. Imam didn’t drink himself, but he always had some on hand for company. Once her glass was full she made her way over to Imam and in one fluid movement sat down on the vacant chair, crossed her right leg over so that her ankle rested on her left knee and took a sip of the brandy.
“So, what happened to the pictures of me and you?” she asked very calmly with a slightly sardonic smirk on her face. She looked on the walls where her pictures used to be, one of her and Imam in front of their house when they first moved in, her first day of school (Imam had insisted on that one), birthdays, and other various outings and special occasions.
Imam let out an impatient sigh and said, “I haven’t seen you in five years and all you can do is ask about what happened to your photos? You might tell me where you’ve been and what you’ve been doing with yourself.”
Jack knew he was avoiding her question and decided to throw him a bone. “I’ve been traveling. Seeing knew things, meeting new people, learning new skills.” She took another sip of her brandy and didn’t even wince as it went down. Jack reveled in the feel the instant heat flowing through her veins and to the rest of her body.
“You know Imam, I’ve been surviving. You seem to be doing well, though. You’ve made some definite improvements to the place.” She looked not only at the expensive brick-a-brack that was scattered throughout the room, but at the pictures now hanging on the wall. Some were of his family, and in others he was meeting and shaking hands with various powerful and influential people.
He smiled in return and she didn’t think he caught her double entendre. “Yes, I have indeed been blessed with good fortune since we arrived on this planet. I have everything I could ever ask for, including a new wife and a beautiful daughter.”
“Your wife,” Jack ran her finger over the rim of her glass as she spoke. “She worked at the consul, didn’t she? I think I remember seeing her there.”
“Yes, Lajjun, that is when I first laid eyes on her, but I would always see her at the market and the mosque as well.”
“And your daughter’s name is…”
“Ziza.”
“That’s a beautiful name,” Jack said as she got up and took a picture off his desk. “And she’s a beautiful little girl.” She put the picture back down and turned to smile at Imam. “You must be very proud.”
His face practically glowed with the love and pride he obviously felt for his daughter. “Yes, I am indeed very proud, and very blessed.”
Jack walked back over to her chair, “So, what happened to all the pictures of me?”
Imam sighed and ran his hands over face, “Jack, you have to understand, I mourned your leaving as I would the death of my own child. The fact that you could just leave like that, after all we had been through together without so much as a goodbye, or even a note and you have to ask me why there aren’t any pictures of you anymore? What did you expect Jack?”
She couldn’t keep a smile off her face. Well…it was more a grimace than a smile. A combination of amusement and disbelief washed over her features. “Hold on holy man, you think I ran away?!Why would I do that?! I was on my way home from buying groceries for dinner at the time. Why would I go to the market I was only planning on leaving you? Not to mention all of my shit was still here!” Throughout her speech she was having an increasingly difficult time keeping her voice low and even.
“Of course you ran away child, I know you missed him and went to look for him. You knew how I felt about him and how I thought you should move on with your life and you completely disregarded my wishes and went looking for him anyway! But you could’ve left a note child, or at least called every now and then to let me know you were alive.” He let out a long sigh and looked directly at Jack. “After we were married, Lajjun saw how devastated I was by your loss and suggested I take down the photos of you, so I would not be reminded of my loss.”
Jack just stared at him, mouth agape, in disbelief. She didn’t say anything for a few minutes and then finally bellowed at the top of her lungs, “YOU THINK I FUCKING LEFT HOLY MAN! YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED!! You have no idea what I went through just to make it back home only to find myself not only replaced, but erased by that bitch! And how long had your precious Lajjun been here before she suggested that all traces of me be removed completely, like some hideous stain she couldn’t stand to look at, huh? She never liked me. I told you that whenever we saw her! She was all smiles when she looked at you, but she looked at me like something she just scraped off from the bottom of her shoe!”
Imam stood up and glared at Jack. “Such talk like that is uncalled for and I won’t have it in my house! I understand you’re upset Jack, but I will not tolerate this abuse from you.”
At this point the door the study swung open revealing a very disheveled and very surprised Lajjun standing at the door. The sudden opening of the door startled Jack and out of reflex, she pulled out one of her knives and was poised to attack, which only further agitated Imam’s wife.
“Jack, put that away immediately,” Imam ordered as he walked over to his wife.
But she was still stunned and staring at Jack. “Bb-b-bbut you’re supposed to be dead,” she stammered as she pointed a shaking finger at Jack.
And that’s when it all made sense to Jack. Everything finally clicked, and all the tumblers fell into place. And then her vision started to get hazy, she could hear a roaring in her ears, and her breathing was becoming rapid and shallow. She had to get out of there, NOW! Before she did something she’d regret (well, maybe not regret, but something she didn’t want added to her growing list of felonies).
She shot one final icy glare at the two of them, finished the considerable amount of brandy left in her glass, walked over to pick up her cloak hastily throwing it on over her and turned to her former family one last time. “I’m sorry Imam,” she said. “Coming here was a mistake. A moment of weakness if you will. So just forget you ever saw me,” she let out a small humorless laugh. “You’ve already forgotten I ever existed. So, have a nice life and take care.” She then turned to Lajjun and put her finger directly in her face, narrowed her eyes (which were shooting daggers at this point) and in her most menacing voice possible told her, “And if I so mush as even feel someone following me, your life will be forfeit!” In a move that was too fast for either Imam or Lajjun to see, Jack had whipped out a knife and threw it at a family picture hanging on the far wall of the study, and it landed in the exact center of Lajjun’s face.
With a flourish, Jack turned, her cloak flaring out behind her stalked out of the study only to stop short at seeing Ziza at the bottom of the stairs, looking at with wide eyes. The young girl tilted her head to the side and with an innocent smile on her face asked, “Who are you?”
Jack stared at the little girl and took in her bright smile, friendly eyes, and all around loving demeanor. “I’m no one kid, just a ghost,” and walked out the front door and back to her ship.
She’d made it back to her ship unscathed and without incident (which was a freaking miracle considering her state of mind), got clearance for take off and was pulling out of atmo when she saw the family pictures in her mind. In particular the one she saw earlier where everyone looked stiff, but they all seemed to be overjoyed and Imam’s little girl, her smile was radiant. That struck her the most, because it could’ve been her.
“Yeah,” she said as she set a course for the one planet she could always count on to loose herself and have a good time. “There but for the grace of the Gods…”
---------------------------
It took Imam at least two hours before he finally got Lajjun somewhat close to calm. In the end she was so distraught over what had happed with Jack, he ended up giving her a mild sedative. Ziza was curious about what had happened in the middle of the night and started to ask her father who that strange woman was and why her mommy was so upset, but with a wave of his hand he brushed it away and told her they could discuss everything in the morning.
Imam had a lot to think about. He had always assumed Jack had run off to find Riddick. He knew how much she admired and looked up to the escaped convict, and simply thought she grew tired of waiting and went off in search of him. Patience was never one of her strong suits.
But what she said and how she behaved got him thinking. What really happened five years ago? Jack had left before he got a chance to question her any further and he new she never liked Lajjun, but why was she so hostile towards his wife? He walked back into his office and found it difficult to believe that she had ever really been there. It was all so surreal, like a dream, but the proof was sticking out of a picture hanging on his study wall. He walked over to the said picture and with a quick tug pulled her knife out of the picture.
Imam looked at the picture more closely and saw that the slit in it was exactly in the center. He let out a small chuckle, “She always did settle for nothing less than perfection,” he thought to himself. He then walked over to his desk, sat down, and picked up the phone; he had a phone call to make.
-------------------------
He was dog tired when he walked into his apartment. It had been a long day. The sun was just starting to rise as he walked through the door. He put his bag down on the couch and walked over to the cooling unit and pulled out a beer, drinking half the bottle before moving into his bedroom. He set his beer down on the bedside table, sat down on the bed and started to pull his boots off. Once both boots were undone he kicked each one across the room and reached for his beer.
He took another swig and then looked over at the clock, 6:15, it was time for a shower and then some much needed sleep, but then something caught his eye. It was his phone right next to the clock. The red light was blinking. Somebody had left him a message.
----------------
Chapter 3