Prologue
Richard B. Riddick stood on the loading deck of Necropolis. It had been three days since Kyra had died, and three days since he'd become the new Lord Marshall of the Necromonger race. He had yet to decide what he would do. His greatest fear had been realized; Kyra's death. She had looked up to him, and tried to become him. In her pursuit, she had become just what he feared. And with it all she had died. He'd never make that mistake again. He'd never let anyone get that close.
He'd thought hiding on a frozen planet would protect those he'd grown to care about and trust. As long as he was away they would be safe from the merks hunting him. But he'd been wrong. Kyra had signed up with Merks and Imam had been in the midst of everything that brought him back to civilization. Back to everything that he had grown to hate.
Now he was stuck somewhere in between. Necromongers weren't civilization, and Hellion Prime was the beacon planet that called all lost in space home. A place of refuge and a place to find who you were. He couldn't stand this planet, but he still wanted no part of the Necromongers. The half dead that believed, only following through with the 'way' was the only way to see the Underverse. The Underverse, that was a joke and a half.
Boom. Riddick turned at the sound. Before him was what appeared to be a vortex. It was something he'd only ever heard about when he was in the military. Long before he'd become a wanted man. He walked closer as if to inspect it, and found himself drawn in. Before he could react he was pulled into the vortex, and was spinning in space. Where he was going and where he would end up was unknown.
John T. Chance stood starring at the young woman he'd just learned was his daughter. He'd had an affair with her mother when he was young, and she'd left. He'd never known he'd had a child, until today when she showed up on his door step. Her step father stood beside her. He had married her mother and raised her as his own, until now.
Chance felt greatful to him for having raised her. He could hardly believe the redheaded beauty before him was his child. The letter she'd given him was now crumbled as he stood there.
"You can't be shocked speachless. Mother said you were a man of few words, but when you had something to say people listened."
"Chancey, let him think. This has to be a shock to him."
The redhead turned to the man who'd raised her. "Fine." With those words she turned and left.
"Thank you. I owe you that much."
"You don't owe me a thing. But you owe that girl out there the chance to get to know you. She's your daughter. She's known that I wasn't her father since she was twelve years old. And she's wanted nothing more than to know who you were. I think she deserves the opportunity."
"I'd have to agree with you. Just the same, thank you for bringing her here."