Ok here is my first Riddick story. I hope you like it. Please review and tell me what you think :)

Also there are some bad language on here so you've being forewarned.

Disclaimer: Sadly I do not own Pitch Black, Chronicles of Riddick or any form or fashion of Riddick.

Way Back When

I had first met Kyra when she was thrown into a wooden cage with me. She was a small thing, skinny legs and body, tuff's of brown hair curling at odd angles, and eyes that burned with anger and grief. I watched as the slave master hand over a sum of money to a group of dirty merc's. Kyra was yelling and screaming.

"You rotten basterds! You fucking, no good, scum sucking lowlifes!"

The Merc's laughed "don't worry Jack this man is going to take real good care of you."

She kicked at the wood, but it didn't give. I chuckled under my breath, just like the many times I kicked at it in anger, it also wouldn't give. You see, I wasn't so willing to be a part of the slave trade either, though many of us are not, and for me I was also betrayed…by my own mother. Messed up right? Well she was a psycho, selfish bitch and couldn't stand how her own daughter was getting all the attention from men who walked the red light streets of Pross 5. So as soon as the first slave wagon came into town my mother was quick to knock me out and shove me into this wooden hell. I've been here for 5 months and the first 3 months I was mad as hell and would show it as much as I could, just like Kyra was doing now. She was relentless and started to kick harder and harder when the wood wouldn't even splinter, I sighed.

"If you kick it a little bit harder you're going to break a bone and let me tell you. It's a bitch to heal."

Her brown eyes blazed into mine "I don't give a fuck! I just want to kill those assholes and then kill them again."

I chuckled and leaned into my corner "well how are you going to do that when you're stuck in a wooden cage that has a 4 inch thick steel bar running though the middle?"

I heard her growl and I laughed even more "What's your name tiger."

She glared at me, calculating why I was asking her such stupid questions. After a moment or so she quietly mumbled out "My name is Jack."

My eyebrows rose up in curiosity "Jack? Is that short for something or did you pick that name because it was manly?"

She folded her arms with a slight pout…God how young was she? "I thought it was a good guy name."

I smirked "Well hun, it worked because you really do look like a boy. How old are you 12? 13?"

I could see her brisling now, I must of hit a nerve. "I'm 16 and what about you huh!"

I lightly laughed and messed with her short curly hair. "I'm 20 and the name is Zoie. Now I'm not calling you Jack, so what's your real name?"

I could see a slight blush blossoming on her cheek as she mumbled out "Kyra."

I gave her a genuine smile and messed with her hair again. "Kyra…I like it. Keep it, it's the only thing in this universe that you can call your own so never lose it."

Kyra gave me a strange look and shook her head, which made me curious "What's with the face?"

She laughed once and smirked "It's just that you reminded me of someone that I really look up to. What you said sounds like something he would say."

I laugh and sling an arm across Kyra's shoulder "You know what Kyra, I think you're an ok kid." Kyra frown's and grumpily replies "I am not a kid!" I laughed out loud while the slave trade slinked deeper into the darkness, collecting more victims for their dirty trade.

For those next weeks, months, and years Kyra and I had become very close friends. We had planned and busted out of the slave trade taking down every single man that had harm or tried to kill us. Later, when the authorities found and caught us, we were sent to the same triple max slam where the planet was so hot that no one could live on top of it, its name was Crematoria. Fitting right? Anyways, the moment we set foot inside we had to be on the top of our game every single day, whether it was fighting with other inmates, jailers, or even the rock dogs, we always had each other's back.

Always watching out for one another until sometime later I was sent away, another shitty Slam where women were treated like animals for manual labor. When they came for me Kyra had fought tooth and nail to keep me, but the jailers had too many lances, sting guns, and clubs on them and she was quickly subdued. Before I was drugged out of the hell rock, that I've called home for the past 3 years, I grabbed Kyra's hand and pressed my most prized possession in her hand; a golden locket that my father had given me before he died.

"Kyra, one day you'll bust out of this hell hole and when you do remember to look for me and we'll meet up again." I could tell that tears were building in her eyes, but none of them spilled. She nodded and gripped her hand tightly around the locket. I gave a smirky smile and faced my jailers "Ok you punk ass piss ants let's get movin' you're wasting nightlight." And, with confidence that I had created over the years, I walked out of one hell and into another.