CAPTIVES of the THIEVE-STAR _A Novelet by_ JAMES H. SCHMITZ _When Peer and Channok grappled the derelict Ra-Twelve, they hooked a death-prize--haunted by the Yomm, stalked by the Mysterious Nine!_ [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Planet Stories May 1951. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] The celebration of the wedding of Peer and Channok had to be cut a little short, because a flock of police-boats from Irrek showed up at detector-range about midway. But it was carried off with a flourish nevertheless. The oxygen-bubble in the small moon crater was filled with colorful solidographs, creating the impression of an outdoor banquet hall. The best bands playing in the Empire that night unwittingly contributed their efforts, and food and drink were beyond reproach. Though somewhat dazed throughout, Channok was startled to discover at one point that the thick carpets on which he stood were a genuine priceless Gaifornaab weave--and no solidographs either! The eighty-four small ships of the space-rat tribe--or voyageurs, as they distinctly preferred to be called--lined up along the outer edges of the banquet hall looked eerily out of place to him; but Peer didn't seem to mind. Her people rarely did go far away from their ships, and the lawless, precarious life they led made that an advisable practice. It would be up to him now, Channok reflected, beaming down on Peer, to educate her into customs and attitudes more fitting for the wife of a regular citizen of the Empire and probable future member of the Imperial Secret Service-- And then, suddenly, the whole ceremony seemed to be over! A bit puzzled by the abruptness with which everybody had begun to pack up and leave, Channok was standing beside the ramp of his own ship, the _Asteroid_--an honest, licensed trader--when Santis strolled over to talk to him. Santis was Peer's father and the pint-sized chieftain of the tribe. "Didn't tell you before, son," he remarked, "because you were already nervous enough. But as soon as they finish collapsing the bubble, you'll have about six minutes to get your _Asteroid_ aloft and off this moon before the cops from Irrek arrive!" "I heard you, Pop, and everything's packed!" Peer called down from the open lock of the _Asteroid_. "Come up and kiss me good-by and we'll seal her up!" Frowning suspiciously, Channok followed Santis up the ramp. "Why should I worry about cops?" he inquired, looking down at the two little people while they briefly embraced. Peer came about up to his shoulder, though perfectly formed, and Santis was an inch or two shorter. The tribe didn't run to bulk. "Nobody's hunting for me!" "Not yet, son," Santis conceded. He twirled his fierce brown mustache-tips thoughtfully and glanced at Peer.