PROLOGUE

Nine-year-old Jenelle Byers pressed her face against the viewport and stared out into the star-studded blackness beyond. How many days, she wondered, before they’d reach home?

It was then that suddenly, the enormous bow of a foreign freighter drifted up from beneath the porthole of their commercial passenger liner. Gradually it began sidling up next to their ship to completely fill the view with its fearsome mass.

“Look!” Jenelle cried; her eyes wide with excitement as she turned to her parents. “Papa said I might see another ship along the way.”

Just then, an odd vibration traversed their ship, sending Thomas Byers to his feet and rushing to the viewport. “Jenny honey, I want you to go back and sit with Momma.”

“Why, Papa?”

“Please,” he said, as a second tremor vibrated through their ship, this one not so subtle.

A third tremor hit, and this time came the sound of klaxons screaming out their warning throughout the ship.

Byers turned away from the viewport and faced his wife. “I fear that vessel is not friendly, Karissa,” he whispered. “Unless I miss my guess, we’re under attack.”

Karissa reached for her daughter, drawing her into the circle of her arms. Tom, this is a commercial liner. What would they want with a passenger ship?”

“I don’t know, but that’s an Adenian symbol flaunted on their starboard side. Maybe they’re after something we’re carrying in the hold. Who knows?”

Klaxons continued pulsing. Sounds drifted inside their cabin—staff members barking orders, pounding footfalls rushing down the passageway. Someone beat on their door and shouted, “Pirates. Stay inside and secure the locks.”

Tom rushed to double check the lock, then turned to his wife and daughter. “I need the two of you to get down and hide beneath the bunk.”

“Tom…”

“Honey, we haven’t got the time to explain. Please. I doubt that lock’s going to hold anyone back for long, and I want you two hidden.”

He turned to Jenelle and patted her arm, “Don’t you worry, sweetie. Everything’s going to be all right,” he said as he watched his wife and daughter scoot beneath the oversized bunk.

At last, he slid a travel pack—the one with Jenelle’s dolls and playthings, under the bunk directly in front of her terrified face. “Shhh…” he whispered, placing a finger to his mouth. “Remember, stay hidden. Not one peep. Okay?”

When she nodded, he straightened, then silently sat down on the edge of the bunk above them, positioning his legs and feet in such a way as to add even more concealment.

Karissa pressed Jenelle’s head against her shoulder, and there they quietly remained hidden. Time passed, klaxons pulsed, men shouted, above all the madness and pandemonium, computer-generated emergency warnings echoed throughout the ship.

“Momma, I’m scared,” Jenelle, whispered.

“I know, darling. Shhh, let’s just stay quiet and hidden as Papa asked. You’ll be okay.”

With her father sitting above them, his legs hiding their whereabouts, Jenelle heard her mother quietly issuing a breathy prayer for their protection.

It wasn’t long before their locked entry crashed open. Peering through a small opening between her father’s legs, Jenelle watched in absolute terror as three badmen surged inside brandishing weapons and issuing curt orders in a language she didn’t understand.

Suddenly, her father was knocked to the floor, where he lay unconscious. Stifling a cry, Jenelle continued watching in open-mouthed horror as the men began ransacking their cabin, grabbing travel packs, rifling through them, taking what they wanted. When they reached for Jenelle’s pack—the one with her toys that her father stashed in front of her—she couldn’t help crying out and made a grab for it. Although she hung-on for dear life, it was a pitiful tug-o’war that ended up wrenching Jenelle from her mother’s arms and dragging her out into the open. Releasing her, the pirate stood there for a moment, studying her through narrowed eyes before uttering something in a menacing tone.

She tried ducking out of his reach, but he caught hold of her with one rough hand and shoved her screaming and kicking into the rough hands of yet another pirate waiting in the corridor. With Jenelle slung over his shoulder, they passed a man lying silent on the floor, blood oozing from the side of his head.

“Jenelle!” She heard her mother frantically call while her captor single-mindedly made his way down the passage.

Two more men lay unmoving in their path as she was carried through yet another access leading into the ship’s hold. From there she was transported through a tube-like tunnel that coupled the two ships. She tried biting the hand that held her in place, but it did little good. Through tears, she watched over the man’s shoulder as more bad men followed them, herding a few captives, hauling containers, and shouldering crates of valuables through the tunnel and onto their own ship. The men were moving fast and before long the airlock was secured and a grinding sound of the connecting tunnel was heard being retracted.

“Momma…”

CHAPTER ONE

The Starcruiser

Port Ireland, Terra Four

His face impassive, Marc Banner leaned negligently back in his chair and regarded the cards in his hand. Three moons, two blue planets, one silver comet and a black star. BOUNTY, it was one game he was generally lucky at, and tonight Lady Luck was smiling on him. Laying his cards face down on the table, he tossed ten credits into the pot, and calmly glanced about while waiting for the others to decide what they were doing.

As always, the Starcruiser was noisy and crowded. Blue-gray tobacco smoke hung heavy in the air, rank with the smell of spilled beer and whiskey. Laughter and loud voices mingled with musicians playing strange music with even stranger instruments. Barmaids drifted between tables, taking orders, and serving drinks—basically, it was no different than any other port dive.

With lazy regard Marc returned his attention to the game and the three men sharing the table with him. Chad Brown sat to his right—a tall, lanky man in his mid-forties. Brown was a freelance cargo pilot just in off a six-month run and anxious for a little R & R. Marc also knew Sam Williams who sat directly across from him. In his late fifties, gray-haired and stocky, Sam was the general manager at Port Ireland’s spaceport headquarters. Marc didn’t know the other man, Mike Baker.

As if trying to see beyond Marc’s laid-back manner, Baker regarded him through narrowed eyes before tossing his credits into the pot.

“Don’t see much of your brothers or Zeke anymore,” Williams said as he tossed his credits into the pot and arranged the cards in his hand. “How are they doing anyhow?”

“They’re doing good. Busy.” Marc replied without looking up.

Chad Brown studied his cards, laid one down, then drew another from the deck. “Yeah, married life can sure make a man out of a boy really quick,” Brown remarked with a hoarse laugh. “For a while there, I was beginning to think Nick wouldn’t find anyone who could tame him, yet he was the first one to get married, wasn’t he?”

Ten minutes passed with cards being drawn and discarded as the men shared small talk and laughter. All the while, Marc’s hand was looking better and better.

“Okay Banner, let’s see whatcha got,” Baker said when the game finally ended.

One by one, Marc slowly turned his cards over.

With a muttered oath, Baker tossed his losing hand down and signaled for another drink.

Oh yeah, Lady Luck was smiling on him and having raked in his winnings, Marc sat back while Williams dealt out a fresh hand. His combined spoils, so far, put him at about two hundred credits ahead of when he first arrived.

He was just picking up his newly dealt cards, when an odd chill chased down his spine. He was being watched. He could feel it. With that awareness, he calmly pushed back his chair, lowered his hand to his holstered weapon, and casually glanced around. The place was swarming with people. It was next to impossible to tell who specifically was watching him, but someone was. That much, he was sure.

At last, his focus fell upon a man standing at the bar, and their sights locked. In the space of a heartbeat, Marc sized him up. Middle aged. Wealthy and dressed impeccably. No weapon to speak of. Not to say that he didn’t have something hidden beneath his coat. All in all, the man didn’t look to be a serious threat. In truth, he looked uncomfortable and completely out of place in a joint like the Starcruiser.

Suddenly, the man pushed away from the bar and began working his way through the crowded tables toward Marc.

“Banner? You in, or what?” Williams asked.

Returning his attention to the table and game at hand, Marc looked down at his cards and flipped ten credits into the pot. “I’m in.”

“We were beginning to wonder,” Williams added. “It’s your turn.”

“Excuse me.” By now, the stranger was standing politely off to the side behind Marc. “I’m looking for Mister Marc Banner?”

Silence.

Again, Marc wondered what a man of obvious wealth and social standing was doing in a place like the Starcruiser—looking for him, nonetheless.

The man spoke again. “By chance, are you Mister Marc Banner?”

“Maybe,” Marc responded without taking his eyes off his cards. “Who wants to know?”

“My name is Thomas Byers, and I would appreciate it very much if I could have a few minutes of your time.”

“I’m busy right now.”

Drawing another card from the deck, Marc carefully arranged it in his hand.

“Yes, I can see that,” the man said respectfully.

He then reached into his pocket and withdrew seven gold coins and set them down one by one on the table before Marc. “Would this, by any chance, make it worth a small bit of your time?”

The table fell silent as Marc, without moving a muscle, lowered his gaze and calmly studied the coins. Together they amounted to well over a thousand credits.

Williams released a breathy whistle. “I’d be happy to give you a few minutes of my time, mister.”

No one laughed.

At last, Marc laid his cards down on the table. “Deal me out.” Scooping up his past winnings along with the seven gold coins, Marc rose from the table. “Okay, Byers, I’m listening.”

“Thank you. If you would follow me, please.”

Marc followed Byers out of the Starcruiser, down and across the street into Port Ireland’s finest hotel.

“Please…” Byers said with a wave of his hand to indicate an ultra-modern settee located along the back wall of the lobby, “have a seat.”

Marc sat down. It had been a while since he’d been in this hotel. His line of work didn’t bring him through the front door of such extravagant places very often. Nevertheless, things hadn’t changed much since the last time. Leaning back, he let his gaze wander. Just as he remembered, credits were not spared when it came to ambiance. The place glowed with crystal chem-lights, shiny chrome-like tables with iridescent tops, marble floors with lavish rugs, unusual potted plants, and soft blue chem-light chandeliers that cast the lobby in a mystical blue glow.

“So, what’s this all about?” Marc asked, returning his attention to Byers.

“First of all,” Byers began, “My wife will be here shortly. I’d like you to meet her.”

“I see, and I ask again. What’s this about?”

“Mister Banner, we’ve been told that you sometimes go to Aden for…uh, various reasons.”

Marc lifted a brow. “Is that right?” Truth was, he did occasionally deliver large vessels of ice or salt to one or more of the major settlements on the desert planet. Often the delivery was used as a front when looking for someone or something believed to have been stolen by Adenian pirates. But, at the same time, other than delivering supplies, his trips to Aden for any other reason were not something he went around professing.

Byers continued. “We’ve also been told that you are very good at what you do. One of the best in fact.”

Marc sat forward. “Look Byers, so far, you’ve used up about one and a half of those gold coins. Let’s cut to the chase, shall we? Just what is it you want?”

“Okay,” Digging into a coat pocket, Byers pulled out a folded printout of a notice. “This,” he said, unfolding the printout and handing it to Marc. “This is what my wife and I want.”

Marc quickly scanned the message.

Twenty-Thousand-Credit Reward

For the safe return of

Jenelle D’Anne Byers

Kidnapped by Adenian pirates eleven years ago.

Jenelle is now Twenty years old.

Last known to have honey blond hair and gray eyes.

Any information that leads to her recovery will earn the same reward.

Contact Thomas Byers c/o Interplanetary Law Enforcement

Marc silently studied the picture of the young girl posted above the notice. She was a pretty little thing with large gray eyes and a pink bow in her curly blond hair. The catch was, she was no longer the same little girl captured in this picture. Eleven years had passed. She would be a young woman by now. Nevertheless, it was the reward that held Marc’s interest more than anything. A man could do a helluva lot with twenty-thousand credits.

Byers went on to explain, “Eleven years ago, my wife, daughter and I were returning to Earth when our commercial liner was attacked by Adenian pirates. They left my wife and me alive…but they took our daughter.”

“How do you know it was Adenians?” Marc asked without lifting his sights from the printout.

“I personally saw the Adenian emblem on the side of their ship.”

Marc nodded. “I see.”

“I’ve heard they are brutal,” Byers continued. “Why would they leave my wife and me alive and take our beautiful little girl?”

“My best guess is that most likely they were initially after something your ship was carrying in its hold, and while they were at it, they decided to take whatever else interested them.” Marc glanced up from the printout. “I can guarantee, had the attack been in retaliation for something, you’d all be long dead.”

“That doesn’t answer why they would take our daughter.”

Marc shrugged and glanced down at the printout again. “Adenians have a weakness for kids. Not just their own, but all kids. Aden’s a harsh planet, Byers, children don’t always live long.”

Byers groaned. “Dear God. Don’t let my Karissa hear you say that. They took our only child, Mister Banner. We love her and want her returned. We’ve hired numerous men to find her, paid tens of thousands of credits over the years to no avail. You’re our last hope. If she’s alive we want her found and brought back. If she’s dead…” he paused and swallowed hard. “If she’s no longer alive…then—then, we need to know. For eleven long years there has been no closure.”

Marc glanced back down at the printout. “Eleven years?”

“Yes.”

“And she was nine at the time?”

“Yes sir.”

Marc released a soft breathy whistle. “Eleven years, and no one’s found her yet.”

“No sir, but I don’t think they tried very hard. I truly believe they took my initial deposit and ran with it.”

Marc studied the notice again and slowly shook his head. “Eleven years…” At last, he looked up at Byers. “I don’t know…that’s a helluva long time.”

“I’m well aware of that.”

Marc rubbed the back of his neck, and continued. “You want my opinion?”

As though afraid to respond, Byers simply stared at him.

“You’d be wasting your credits. As well as my time.”

“I’m asking for your help, Mister Banner. I’m willing to pay for it. Plain and simple.”

“All I’m saying is, with the passage of all these years it’s going to be damn hard to find a nine-year-old child who’s now a young woman. If, by chance she is alive, I can assure you she’s been absorbed by now.”

“What do you mean, absorbed?”

“By now, she’s one of them,” Marc replied. “I’m telling you; chances are I’m not going to find her. Even if I do, it’s possible she won’t want to leave, might not even remember you.”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t believe that.”

Marc shrugged. “Believe what you want. It’s brain washing, mind control, hypnosis, whatever you want to call it. It doesn’t matter what you choose to believe. It’s the way it is, Byers, and it’s strong.”

“Look, Mister Banner. I’m good for the reward and to prove it, I’ll pay you half of the bounty right now. I just need to know if you’ll help us or not.”

“I’m a freight pilot. Not a bounty hunter. Besides, how do you know I’m not going to run off with your deposit just like everyone else?”

“As I’ve said before, you’re our last hope. We want our daughter back. If you’re willing to take on this task—foolish or not, we’d have no choice but to trust you.”

Marc glanced down at the printout again. “You don’t know me, Byers,” he said without looking up. “Why would you trust me?”

“You’re right. I don’t know you. I do know your reputation, and from what I hear, you’re a damn good tracker. Whatever you choose to call yourself, we both know you’re more than simply a freight pilot. Once again, I’m offering to pay in advance half of a sizeable bounty just for agreeing to help us. Plus, I’ll add an additional thousand for expenses. That’s eleven thousand upfront. One thousand for every year she’s been gone. So, are you interested or not?”

“Since I’m not looking for a nine-year-old, this picture gives me nothing to go on other than her eyes and hair color. How am I supposed to know what she looks like today?”

When Marc glanced up from the printout, he found Byers looking away, his face softening as he rose to his feet.

He turned to see what had captured Byers’ attention. A middle-aged woman dressed in soft blue leggings and matching tunic was making her way toward them. She had light blond hair and a slender figure. Marc watched as Byers stepped forward and enfolded the woman in his arms.

“Darling, I want you to meet Mister Marc Banner. He’s the man I was telling you about.”

Byers turned to Marc, “Mister Banner, this is my wife, Karissa Byers.”

Immediately Marc gained his feet to accept her extended hand. “Ma’am.”

“I am very pleased to meet you, Mister Banner. My husband tells me that you might be able to find our daughter.” Her voice was soft and husky as she spoke. Her green eyes were fringed with thick lashes. What caught his attention more than anything was the deep look of sadness in those eyes—an unconscious look that stirred a pain in his heart.

They all took a seat. Byers sat next to his wife and reached for her hand. “I was just telling Mister Banner how our precious Jenelle was taken from us.”

Once again, Misses Byers turned luminous eyes on Marc. “Do—do you think you can help us?”

Unwilling to explain the slim chances of finding their daughter to Byers’ wife, Marc asked, “Do you believe your daughter today might look like you?”

“It’s possible. She favored me as a child. Of course, I can’t say for sure what she might look like today—whether the resemblance is still there or not.” Reaching up she unfastened a golden chain from around her neck that held a small heart-shaped hinged locket. “If this would help, it holds a picture of Jenelle and me,” she said, handing it over to Marc. “The photo was taken not long before we—before she was stolen from us.” With a deep breath, she folded her hands and placed them in her lap. “Please. You will help us, won’t you, Mister Banner?”

Wordlessly, Marc accepted the locket and proceeded to study the picture encased inside. It seemed like an impossible quest—a waste of both his time and Byers’ credits. However, if Jenelle were to look anything like her mother…could he be that lucky? What did he have to lose? If she does look like her mother, and if he were to find her and manage to bring her back, the balance of Beyer’s hefty reward would be his.

Marc glanced up and studied Misses Byers for a long moment before responding. “I can’t make any promises Misses Byers, but I’ll make a run to Aden, scout out a few villages, and see what I can find out.”

Tears filled her eyes. “Oh, thank you. Thank you, Mister Banner. My husband and I have great faith in you. I just know you will find our Jenelle.”

Byers rose to his feet. “I’ll draw out eleven thousand credits for you tomorrow. A thousand of it is for expenses. If you incur additional costs, let me know. Should you return with our daughter you will get the balance of the reward for a total of twenty thousand credits. One more thing…should you find her, would you give this to her.”

He handed Marc an electronic tablet. It contains a message from her mother and me.”

Marc accepted the tablet. “Yes, I’ll see to it she gets this. I’ll be leaving first thing in the morning.” he said as he wrote something on the back of a business card. “Contact my brother at this number and he’ll make sure the advance is deposited into my account.”

Byers studied the name. “Clint Banner, Solarblaze Energy.” He flipped the card over. “And this is the number I’m to reach him at?”

“Yes. I’ll let him know to expect your contact.” He held up the flyer. “Mind if I keep this?”

“No. By all means, take it.”

Marc refolded the flyer. “So, how do I get in touch with you?”

“My personal contact information is at the bottom of the flyer. Day or night. No matter the time.”

“As long as you don’t expect to hear from me right away.”

Byers nodded. “I understand.”

Marc turned to Misses Byers. “Ma’am, do you mind if a get a copy of the photo in this locket?

“Anything. You can take the locket with you if it will help.”

“I just need a copy of the photo.” Marc started to turn away, then stopped. “On second thought. Do you think your daughter might recognize the locket combined with the picture?”

“I would hope so. It was a birthday gift from her and my husband. Please, if you think it will help, take it with you.”

“I’ll see that you get it back,” Marc said as he placed Misses Byers keepsake into his jacket pocket.

“Mister Banner,” she added, “if I might ask…do you have any idea how long it might be before we know anything?”

The longing in her voice was impossible to miss. “To be truthful, I have no idea. It will take over eight weeks just to get to Aden from here. Could be six months or more before I know anything. It all depends on whether she’s even on Aden, and if so, what settlement she’s in.”

He chose not to add that it also depended on whether her daughter was willing to leave. What if she’s married and has a passel of kids? It could get complicated.

Thomas Byers released an exasperated sigh. “In other words, it’s going to be like they used to say on Earth, looking for a needle in a haystack.”

“Pretty much.”

Marc turned his attention once again to Misses Byers. “I’ll do my best to find your daughter, ma’am.”

“Thank you,” she said, tears welling in her eyes.

Thomas stepped forward. “Just one more thing before you leave,” he said in a whispered voice. “Should you find her, I expect you to respect her. You know what I mean.”

Marc frowned. “No, I’m afraid I don’t,” he replied in a conversational tone.

Byers’ tone softened. “All I’m saying is that Karissa and I trust you to do the right thing by her.”

Marc regarded the older man for a long moment. “Well, that’s encouraging to know.” With a shrug he added in a lowered, but serious tone, “Let me get this straight. First, you approached me. Not the other way around. If…if I should find your daughter, I have no intentions of violating her, if that’s what you mean. However, knowing what I know of Adenian customs, by now she’s already been violated.” Marc gave the man a moment to mull that one over. “So, if you’re having second thoughts,” he continued as he offered the locket back in his open palm. “I’ll just get on back to the Starcruiser.”

“No, no. Please…Please forgive me. We desperately want you to find our daughter.”

Their eyes held a moment longer, and then Marc turned to leave the hotel.

Karissa stared at the door, her eyes tearing again. God be with you.

~ * ~

Outside Marc stopped, shrugged the kinks out of his shoulders and patted his pocket for a cigarette. Finding one, he bent his head, lit up. Originally, he’d figured on heading back to the Starcruiser, but since his plans changed, he now had an early get-up in the morning. First thing, he’d need to head for Acacia to touch base with Nick and Zeke. Hopefully there’ll be an upcoming ice run to Aden that he could make for them. As always it looked better if he had a viable freight delivery.

This was the fourth year in a row that Marc took on a variety of tracking jobs. Most were assignments to find stolen shipments off captured freighters. Occasionally, he’d been hired to search for men, women and even children who had been taken and sold at auctions. If found, he was often able to buy the captives from their owners. Occasionally, however, he had only sad news to bring back to families awaiting word.

He was dreading this assignment. First, there was a slim chance he’d even find the girl, and he hated the thought of having to eventually tell the Byers their daughter was a lost cause. He didn’t know why he’d agreed to it. Why the devil did he do this to himself?

Because you’re damn good at tracking, that’s why. And because this job pays exceptionally well.

Yes, he had to admit that much. The credits were a nice incentive.

Before heading back to his ship, he withdrew the locket and once again studied the picture of Misses Byers and her daughter. Was she still blond like her mother, he wondered? He understood often light-colored hair was died black to blend in with the natives. If Lady Luck was still on his side, he’d find the young woman, bring her back to her parents, and end up with a tidy little sum of twenty thousand credits.

Stepping off the sidewalk, he crossed the street and headed for his bike. A few years ago, his older brother, Clint, transported the beautifully restored, shiny black 1994 Harley Sportster from Earth as a birthday gift. Marc cherished the bike and insisted on keeping it onboard his ship. Beside the sense of exhilaration and freedom when riding it, the bike was an easy and quick mode of transportation once he arrived at a port.

Now to get some sleep, and then head for Imperial to see if there’s an ice or salt consignment he can deliver to Aden for Nick and Zeke.