Colossal E-Book

Alexandra Norton

• Herausgeber: Alexandra Norton
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2023

Beschreibung

The predatory alien blood in Orion Halen’s veins makes him dangerous. Volatile. Addictive. But desire burns brightest in the depths of darkness. What happens when she falls?

Kaia never imagined her lifelong mission would lead to this: a sacrificial lamb on a colony ship, chosen to bear an heir for the ship’s ruthless soon-to-be commander. To Orion Halen, she’s a means to an end—a piece to play in his twisted game. Yet Kaia is no ordinary pawn.

Even as their machinations intertwine and secrets grow deep, an insatiable attraction takes root. A dance of power and seduction ensues, blurring the lines between pleasure and pain. There’s a cruel lure in Orion's glacial eyes, a mere touch threatening to expose a hunger Kaia can’t afford to let herself indulge because she’s hunting for something far more precious than her own survival. But desire burns brightest in the depths of darkness, and giving in has never been so tempting.

Colossal: Dark Romance in Deep Space is a steamy science fiction romance novel where morally gray protagonists navigate treacherous desires in a slow burn that satisfies the senses and leaves the reader aching for more.

Leseprobe

COLOSSAL

DARK ROMANCE IN DEEP SPACE

HEARTS WITH TEETH

BOOK 1

ALEXANDRA NORTON

Copyright © 2023 by Alexandra Norton

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Cover designed by MiblArt.

Edited by LY Publishing Services.

CONTENTS

Preface

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

Chapter 49

Chapter 50

Chapter 51

Chapter 52

Chapter 53

Chapter 54

Chapter 55

Chapter 56

Chapter 57

Chapter 58

Chapter 59

Chapter 60

Chapter 61

Chapter 62

Chapter 63

Chapter 64

Chapter 65

Threxin

PREFACE

Colossal is the darkest story I’ve written so far. It is a science fiction romance that burns slow and deep. This is a story about finding hope in fear, pleasure in pain, and perseverance in dubious circumstances.

This book tackles topics of guilt, death, violence, family, and love. Always, always love.

Playlist:

https://alexandranorton.com/colossal-playlist

Alexandra

CHAPTER1

ORION

Orion had been soaking sore muscles in the red mud pools of Crimson Spa deep beneath the planet’s surface when the chime of an incoming transmission echoed in the private chamber. He flipped to his stomach in the viscous liquid, resting his chin on his forearms at the edge of the pool.

“Ignore.” He sighed, focusing on the heat soaking through his skin.

Bing.

The directionless chime sounded again.

“Block notification.” His stern voice slapped against the rock wall and then silenced in the humid air.

Bing.

Goddamn it.

Who was overriding his instructions?

“Fine. What the hell is it?”

A soothing artificial voice announced what it was: “Live transmission from Colony Ship Colossal. Priority Five.”

Orion groaned. What did she want now? He’d been left alone for the better part of the previous year and was half-hoping they’d forgotten about him. But even after ten years of banishment to Mars, he remained at the mercy of her fucking transmissions.

“Mother.”

“Orion. Are you somewhere private?” Mother’s voice came clipped and businesslike as usual. He thought he heard a faint hoarse undercurrent in what was usually a steel-smooth inflection.

He clicked his tongue, giving the room an unnecessary glance. This was a private chamber of the spa, reserved only for him.

“I’m alone.”

She wasted no time. “I’ve been informed that I have an advanced cancer which evaded detection for several years.”

Orion perked to attention, sitting up straight.

“What’s the treatment plan?”

“There is none. It’s incurable. They can stave it off for six months to a year Old Earth Standard. After that, I’m Uploading.”

Shit.

Orion was standing in the pool now, the mud coalescing around his upper thighs.

“You need to get back to the ship for handover.”

Orion ran a muddy hand through his hair, tugging at the roots. The dull pain in his scalp should have helped center his reeling mind. Alas, the reeling won out.

“But that’s too soon. You know I’m not ready. I got zero interest in—”

“Save it, Orion.” Her voice cut through his rambling like a brig door slamming shut. “You knew this would happen.”

“In a fucking couple hundred years, maybe! I thought you might have another kid by then, Mother.” Orion grasped at straws, though he didn’t believe his own words. His parents had fertility issues like everyone else. Colony commanders weren’t exempt.

“Trust me, this isn’t ideal for me either. I’d rather not have my lazy slacker son take control of the greatest colony ship in existence. But it seems neither of us get what we want.”

Orion took a steadying breath.

“Let me research treatments. For the cancer and the fertility. I’ll find something to prolong your time to Upload.”

Maybe she’d be touched, even just a little, with the prospect of him going out of his way to help her stay alive.

A hoarse laugh made him flinch. It was never a good sign when Mother laughed. Hearing it in that unfamiliar voice disturbed him all the more.

“The prodigal son finally finds some motivation. Who do you think you are, Orion? You think we haven’t already gone through all this? You think you can find a magical cure to get you out of your responsibilities that we haven’t already considered?”

There were several moments of ear-ringing silence before she spoke again.

“You are my only son, Orion. ‘The buck stops with you,’ as they used to say. Your genes are the only ones that will control and power the ship. You always knew this was your fate.”

Fate.

How he wished that word would fade away in the depths of space.

“And if I refuse?” Orion lifted his face to the cavern’s ceiling. Hot condensation dripped down to his skin in fat drops.

“I’ll cut you off. No allowance. Not even enough for a drop of water. How do you suppose you’ll do, working in the sand tunnels in Mars, cleaning up the natives’ waste? What do you suppose they’ll think of you, the thousands of colonists you’ve doomed on an empty husk of a once-glorious ship? How many will get off in time? No one will bat an eye at the death of another colony. No one will help them.”

Orion sank back into the mud. She was always good at that—the guilt trips.

“Colossal is passing by Sector Seven in a week for a rendezvous with the transport I’ve arranged for you. Bretton is picking you up tomorrow. If you aren’t here, you’re done. No excuses.”

“Transmission closed,” the soothing voice informed him, and Orion slumped back in the bath.

Well, shit.

He exited the mud pool hours later, skin raw from the heat and moisture. He sat naked on the warm metal bench in the exit alcove, where one of the scantily-clad attendants wiped the drying muck from his limbs with a soaked rag. The water wasn’t pure, but it was purer than most people on Mars were drinking.

Orion barely registered the attendant as she struggled to hold up the weight of his arm by the wrist. She made a little huff with a fixed smile as she rubbed the rag from shoulder to hand.

“What’s wrong, Mr. Halen?” His attendant’s velvet voice was soft in his ear. “Is there anything I can help with?”

Orion focused on her then, studying the woman’s full, fleshy features. Lips he could sink his teeth into. “Help?”

A bead of sweat spilled over the ledge of her top lip. Down here, everyone had a constant sheen of perspiration in the heat. Authorities were constantly drumming on about the scarcity of water, and yet they had people down here dehydrating themselves for the benefit of those like him.

What a waste.

Orion brushed off the thought. He was paying for this. He brought himself back to the smooth face gazing up at him. Big golden eyes, fleshy cheeks, and white hair tied in a braid that was twisted into a bun atop her head. Slender wrists descended to wipe the remnants of mud from his torso.

He leaned his head against the hot wall, looking away from the offering. “Enough fat, but no muscle. Too suicidal for my tastes.”

The towel dragging along his skin paused just for a second before she resumed her work.

If it were another day, Orion might try her anyway. She was asking for it. But today, he had enough to deal with.

Commanding Colossal was the sole reason for his existence. The biomechanic design of the colony ships was paired to a specific set of genes—in this case, his. Once his mother died, Colossal would respond to his blood only. No matter how shitty a commander he’d be, or how careless, or how fucking bored, simply turning down the job was not an option.

Well… it was. But was he prepared to make his way on his own, starting from scratch, a pariah for dooming thousands of colonists to their death with his refusal to pick up the mantle?

Orion realized the girl was done. She was sitting back on the floor before him, ass on her heels, hands on bare thighs. The bracelet on her left wrist was already glowing its orange beacon, indicating it was open for incoming transactions. Her eyes were downcast, trying to hide the frown contorting her otherwise smooth features. Was she crying?

“You must be new.” He held his wrist up to the bracelet, where his ID implant was embedded beneath his skin. He made his tip a minimal token of faux appreciation. As soon as she showed her displeasure at his rejection, she went beyond the scope of her job. The device flashed under his wrist. Her bracelet did the same, then turned green to confirm a completed transaction.

“Thank you, Mr. Halen.” The girl had regained her composure. She rose, holding the dripping rag with which she had cleaned him between a delicate thumb and forefinger. She sashayed to the corner of the alcove where she dropped it into a waste container. “Was there anything else?”

Fucking really? She’s still gunning for it?

No extra tip was worth what he’d do to her.

He waved her off and rose. Bare feet slapped the floor as he donned a black robe hanging on the wall, tying it with the sash around his waist.

Orion transmitted a message to Boris as he took the lift back up to the residential quarters above ground, instructing him to meet there. He squinted a little as the bright rays of the artificial sun stung his eyes through the hallway.

He often felt like an ant in here. Ants were small six-legged insects he’d learned about when he was young back on Colossal. They worked in groups and lived underground, in elaborate mazes of their own making in service to their queen. That was Mars: an elaborate maze, partly underground and partly up on the surface. Only here, there was no queen. His queen was his mother, light years away in an anthill of her own, looking for fucking who knows what. Her New Earth. And now this queen demanded his presence.

Boris was already in Orion’s quarters when he entered, lounging on the cushion filled with light plastic pellets, his favorite spot.

“She’s here,” he mouthed, throwing a glance at the shower cubicle positioned off the main room. As if on cue, the plastic door opened, revealing Ajsa with a fluffy towel on her head and another wrapped around her chest, barely covering her cunt.

Orion pinched the bridge of his nose, rubbing the spot between his eyes. Just as he extricated himself from one needy bitch, he was faced with another. She waltzed over to Orion and stood on her bare toes, twining her hands together behind his neck. The motion dragged the towel up her thighs, revealing rows of red welts winking out from underneath.

“What took you so long?” She purred in his ear as he was extricating himself from her grasp, fingers curling over fresh bruises to pry her arms away. Her split-second wince turned into a grin.

Ajsa was the opposite of the spa girl. Not enough fat, but plenty of muscle rippling under her skin. She was the genuine article—got off on the fight. They’d only fucked twice, and it was stupid. The risk of chemical dependency to his exorin was significant. An addicted pain-slut could be a major pain in his ass.

He shot a look at Boris behind her, who gave him a helpless shrug.

“How long have you been here?” Orion asked her.

“All day, babe. I thought you’d be back from the spa and we’d grab lunch together, but then…” She closed her eyes momentarily, lashes fluttering side to side. “It’s almost dinnertime. Shall I get dressed?”

“No,” he said flatly. He let his robe fall to the floor and approached the hydra station built into the side of the wall. He instructed it to produce a cup of hot water through the interface of his Neurosync. He grabbed a sachet of vegetable flavoring from the container on the side and poured it into the steaming cup, stirring with a synthwood spoon.

The pout on her face made him want to stick something in it, but he refrained. He was playing in dangerous territory. He’d kept her around too long. She was getting attached.

“I’m busy. You need to go.”

Ajsa gnawed the inside of her mouth, a habit Orion was angry at himself for having noticed. Her gaze, leveled on him, was a knowing one. Like the bitch had him all figured out. A moment later Ajsa was pulling on her dress and flats. He got a good view of the bruises lining the side of her tits when she bent over to pull the fabric over her hips, and wondered if she enjoyed seeing his fingerprints there as much as he did.

She worked the towel from her hair and ran long gold-tipped fingers through the wet waves.

“Figured.” Orion narrowed his eyes at the ice in her voice. He sipped his soup as she gathered her shit. Ajsa was not taking this like the others normally did. But then she wasn’t a fucking moron, and maybe that’s why he’d kept her around for so long.

“Well…” Ajsa shot him a wry smile, pausing at the door. “Nice while it lasted, gentlemen.”

She waltzed out of the room, granting Orion a last glimpse of her swaying hips before the door hissed shut behind her. Orion stared.

How dare she be so callous about being rejected? Just leave like that, like she was the one rejecting him? Like she didn’t even care.

Orion resisted the urge to follow, drag her back there, and teach her a goddamn lesson.

Boris was watching him closely, and Orion shook the thought from his head.

“My mother called.” Orion settled on a cushion across from Boris.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Orion got progressively more animated as he provided the gist of the conversation to the one man he would call a “friend” these days. Boris was a Martian, bred and born. They had met in the rec center five years ago, where Orion was hiding from his philosophy instructor by beating the shit out of a punching bag. They’d bonded over weight lifting and Boris’s uncanny ability to not want anything from Orion, and not judge him for his predispositions or his hatred of colony life. Others thought of him as a spoiled asshole. Not Boris. Well, if he did, he didn’t show it, and that was good enough.

After hearing the full story, Boris leaned forward, arms on his knees.

“So this doesn’t sound like something you can get out of…”

“Don’t tell me that,” Orion snapped. He didn’t need another person’s confirmation that he was fucked. There had to be a way out.

“But I’m not entirely sure what you’re so afraid of.”

Was he stupid? Orion had always considered Boris to be relatively intelligent, practical, and capable of deductive reasoning. Did this need to be spelled out for him?

Orion’s words came slow and strained as he laid out the situation.

“As the commander of a colony ship, I will have no life. I will have nothing except my duties. Just thousands of people depending on me to lead their ship wherever the fuck in search of whatever the fuck. There will be no spa. There will be no peace. There will be no quiet. Certainly no pussy except the one or two I end up having to marry to produce more genes for the fucking ship, if they survive the ordeal. My life will never be my own again. How do you not get that, and why the fuck are you rolling your eyes?”

Orion wanted to punch something, feeling the familiar prickle against the roof of his mouth. He jabbed the point of his tongue into his cheek—a habit he'd learned early to bring himself down.

Boris leaned back.

“The ship needs your genes, but so what? You’ll need to be the one to confirm commands? Put your hand in some hole to change navigation coordinates? The real work can be done by someone else. Someone more interested in the job. I’d bet your mother has a whole team helping decide her every move. All you’ll need to do is lift a finger now and again, maybe provide some blood for the ‘critical’ decisions. You’ll be a commander—delegate! And the women? Who’s going to bother you if you decide to have some fun on the side? They need you, Orion. Nobody’s going to fire you or cut you off once you get the job because they can’t. Make your own rules and enjoy living in prosperity on your own ship.”

So many rebuttals screamed in Orion’s head as Boris spoke, but each caught on his tongue before he uttered it. Boris didn’t understand. He didn’t have the full picture. He was just a planet-born, with no idea of what it meant to live on a colony, much less run one.

But Orion had to admit that Boris wasn’t entirely wrong. Maybe the worst-case scenario wasn’t as tragic as he’d built it up in his head over the years. Maybe he didn’t need to live up to his mother’s expectations once he took over—she would already be Uploaded, partying it up in Heaven somewhere.

“When do you leave?”

Orion groaned. He’d been avoiding this part: checking the itinerary his mother would’ve no doubt already sent over to him.

“Later,” he said.

Boris raised an eyebrow. “And tonight?”

“Tonight we enjoy the beginning of the end of my freedom.”

* * *

Orion woke up on his couch the next morning to an incessant chiming that drove nails into his pounding, hungover head. He sat up and scrubbed his palms over his face, shoulders slumping. With a grunt, he closed his eyes and brought the message up against the blackness of his lids.

It was a trip itinerary, alerting him that his ship was leaving in half an hour.

Fuck!

Already? Was she really expecting him to get all his business in order and jump to it so quickly? Not that he had much business… but still.

He rose, skin constricting at the chill. He liked his quarters cold in the morning—as uninhabitable as possible for whoever spent the night, encouraging them to leave for the warmth of wherever the fuck they came from. Mostly though, his body just ran hot.

Orion stretched his arms over his head and arched his back, groaning at the satisfying pull of joints and muscles. He downed a hot shot of caffeine and bitter syrup topped with foamed pea extract. Most cabins on the station did not come with their own hydra taps, but this one did. Not only that, it could concoct any number of water-based mixtures.

Assured the caffeine was spreading through his system, Orion pulled on a black carbonsilk shirt and trousers, then stepped into a pair of leather boots. Genuine leather, farmed on an artificial satellite of Saturn. He was roaming around his quarters, stuffing whatever he would consider essentials into a pack, when the door slid open.

“Good, you’re ready.” Orion motioned Boris to the hydra station. “Drink?”

Boris shook his head, hovering in the open doorway.

“You’re letting the good air out.” Orion frowned.

“Since when do you care about wasting air?” But he entered and allowed the door to slip shut behind him.

“Where’s your pack? Ship leaves in…” Orion closed his eyes briefly, checking the countdown. “Five minutes. But don’t worry. It’ll wait.”

“I’m not going, Orion.”

“Hmm?” Orion had been zipping up the pack and slinging it over his shoulder.

“I’m not going.”

“What do you mean?”

Boris shrugged. “I’m not sure why you assumed I would.”

“Because why wouldn’t you?”

Boris shot him an incredulous look, one he rarely used with Orion. “Mars is my home. Why would I leave that behind?”

“Well… what will you do once I’m gone?”

Was that a flash of irritation on his face? “I’ll be an engineer, like I’ve always been. Do you think I just go into hibernation when I’m not with you? I have a job.”

Orion laughed. “You don’t need all that. You said it yourself—on Colossal, I can do whatever I want. You don’t need a fucking job. Come on… It’s the most prestigious ship in the known universe, at least since Bali’s Bounty disappeared. You won’t have to work a day in your life. And I’ll need an ally out there to convince me not to murder my parents.”

“No thank you,” Boris said flatly, and it was clear he was done.

“‘No thank you?’ That’s all you have to say?”

Boris stuffed his hands into his pockets. “You’ve been a good friend, Orion, but we always knew you’d have to go back. At least I did. I’m not ditching my life on Mars to follow you around. But hey, stop by whenever you’re around. We’ll raise some hell.”

Orion’s nostrils flared, just a little, not enough to notice unless you really knew him, like Boris did.

“Fine. Fuck off then. I’ve got packing to do.”

Boris gave him a knowing nod, as if he knew exactly how Orion would react. Just like fucking Ajsa.

Fuck him.

Orion didn’t watch as his only “friend” turned around and left the quarters.

CHAPTER2

KAIA

“Good run today,” Kaia thought as her boots hit the ground of the docking bay.

She smacked the side of her ship, running her fingers along its familiar pockmarked surface and trying not to think about the repairs she knew she’d soon have to pay for. Ahton’s Take had served her well over the years, despite her lack of reciprocation. She could count on one hand how many times she’d taken it in for a full checkup. As for a proper refurb… Forget it.

Kaia had gotten good at doing her own minor repairs.

“Good take?” One of the docksmen walked up to inspect her parking job. It was a formality. Kaia was shit at parking, and no one bothered correcting her anymore.

“Pretty good,” she said, smashing the heavy red button on the underside of the hull with a fist. The storage bay door swung down with shrill warning beeps. The door was slow, revealing scraps of bent metal, twisted carbon of burnt-out hulls, and a mass of fizzling electronics. She grabbed an inconspicuous black box from beneath a tangle of wires when it became reachable and stuffed it in her pack. That one she’d keep for herself.

As buyers rounded on the ship and began eyeing the goods, Kaia took the time to scan the bay. Loran’s black retrofitted fighter was in its usual spot, expertly placed. Loran knew how to park.

His engine panel was coated in fresh condensation; he’d bounced from the site of the skirmish just an hour or so ago, leaving Kaia and a couple of others to pick up the scraps like vultures tailing a pack of lions. Some of the smaller unbranded gang ships sat scattered throughout the dock. They’d lost one today. Kaia wasn’t sure who yet, but all of Loran’s goons looked the same to her, even though she was technically one of them.

The commotion on the other side of the dock caught her attention. She pressed the button to shut the storage, waving off prospective buyers who craned their head over the ascending door. “Be at the market tomorrow morning. See me then.”

She waited for the hold to finish closing at its excruciatingly slow pace, monitoring the buyers milling about to make sure none of them got handsy. Then she came closer to get a better view of the shiny craft.

Looked like a brand new needlefin. Fucking beautiful, and definitely not something you saw every day. Not around here. A bearded man in a pilot’s uniform was talking to a docksman, checking off forms, and Kaia’s eyes fell on the other man exiting the ship from the rear door. Kaia wasn’t in the habit of staring, but she took her time stripping off her flight suit, removing each bit of padding slowly and with great care—plenty of time to appraise the newcomers.

Kaia wouldn’t call the sleek black carbonsilk trousers and shirt that the man wore gaudy, but he was definitely not trying to hide his good fortune.

Guy must be loaded.

Then there was his height. Clearly almost seven feet, several heads over the pilot and docksman. His black brows were knotted in a frown, mouth curled down with displeasure. All the rich ones were always unhappy about something. He jerked a lock of black hair from his face and crossed the dock with long, pointed strides, ignoring the bustle of ships and people around him. Like he couldn’t wait to get out of there.

She wondered what Loran had planned for this one. He wouldn’t pass up an opportunity to milk a wealthy traveler for all he was worth. Kaia scooped up her gear and headed to her quarters.

* * *

Her cabin was nothing special, but it was hers and that was already a privilege. None of the living spaces on Riker 109 were anything to write home about, if one had a home. The waypoint station was on its last legs, run down and forgotten between the Milky Way and deep space in which colony ships roamed in their never-ending search for habitable worlds.

Kaia shut the door behind her and folded herself into her squeaky bunk. She spent a few minutes rubbing down her aching joints, twisting at the skin around her wrists and ankles. She’d been achy for as long as she could remember, but that was normal around here. Being crammed into her tiny ship for hours on end never helped.

Once the crude self-massage provided some relief, Kaia extracted the box she’d stashed earlier. She ran her black-dipped fingers over the smooth carbon. The darkness of her polish blended with the surface. It was about the length of her hand, and half that in width and height. She fingered along the edges, feeling for the telltale dip of a print reader. There it was, a thin imprint in the corner.

Kaia reached over to the crooked metal work desk next to her bunk and grabbed a small finger glove device. She pulled it over her index finger and pressed it to the reader. There was a low whirr while the reader inspected the print, as the glove tried to simulate a match. She was lucky she’d stumbled across this little thing in one of her hauls—more primitive print crackers might try to brute-force a print, triggering security measures in the device being cracked, but this one had never given her trouble. Small LED lights molded into the cracker flashed yellow as it worked. This was taking longer than she expected. Kaia's thumb twitched against the box impatiently.

Finally the LEDs glowed a merciful blue, and the box emitted a faint click as its lid cracked free. Kaia glanced at the door, double-checking the red lock was engaged before pushing the lid open.

For a moment she was disappointed. She’d hoped to find a chip store or something, but the box contained no such thing. Her eyes fell on pieces of metal wedged into a foam cushion.

Only it wasn’t just any old metal.

“Fuck yes,” she exhaled with a slow grin. Kaia extracted one ring from the foam and held it up, closing one eye. She rotated it between her fingers, looking for the stamp of gold content. Seven carats. She palmed the ring and ran her fingertips along the three others in the box. These would for sure fetch a pretty penny at the market.

Kaia jumped in her bunk as someone banged on her door three times. She stuffed the ring back into the container.

“What?” she yelled.

“Loran wants you. His quarters.” The gruff voice was already fading by the time the lackey finished speaking, and Kaia breathed again.

Fuck me, I’m paranoid.

Nobody could have entered the cabin without her permitting it. Not even Loran, at least not without breaking the door down.

Kaia transported the rings to the small safe hidden beneath her bunk. What the fuck did he want her for anyway? He wouldn’t have his half of the take until the market tomorrow. Which could only mean he wanted one thing. Kaia pressed her mouth into a thin line as she made the ten-minute walk through the metal habitat ring and stood at Loran’s door. She flexed the fingers of both hands, preparing. Loran was not easy to argue with.

The door slid open before she could knock.

Kaia hesitated just outside, gauging the situation inside the cabin. Loran was running a frustrated hand through brown hair as he circled the woman in the middle of the space. The woman tapped a slippered foot in a displeased staccato. Her fleshy bare thigh, peeking from the folds of old silk in her skirt, was tense. Her fingers, painted a bright crimson to the second knuckle, were seductive even in their nervous smoothing of her barely-there shirt. Bare shoulders pulled back, the mounds of her full breasts shifted a little as she spoke up at Loran’s snarling face.

“Heard about this guy, Loran, and I’m not fixin’ to get trapped—”

“Whether you’re fixin’ to or not isn’t up to you. I can make—” Loran’s amber eyes flicked to Kaia mid-rebuke. He already seemed furious, pacing like a jaguar around a defiant gazelle, but his expression darkened yet further when he looked her way. Kaia noted her shoulders folding in on themselves and rolled them back, forcing herself to stand up straight.

“You,” he pointed at Kaia. “In my office.”

She ran her tongue over her top teeth, fighting back a retort. Plastering on a neutral expression, she brushed past them and into the adjoining space, one that used to be a separate cabin before Loran took down the wall and turned the place into his own suite.

“You. Sit,” Loran barked behind her. Kaia registered the creak of Loran’s worn leather couch as the other woman plopped down on it.

The office door slid shut behind them. Kaia sank into the swivel chair next to Loran’s polished metal desk.

“What’s up?” Kaia hoped she sounded casual as Loran sat on the desk’s edge beside her, heels of his hands propped on either side of him. Too close for comfort. She planted her feet and rolled the chair back a few inches.

“How was the haul today, Scav?” He crossed his bulky arms over his barrel chest.

“It was fine.”

“Anything interesting you want to tell me?” He cocked his head.

Shit. What does he know?

Kaia pursed her lips, making a show of thinking. She resisted twisting nervous fingers through a lock of hair.

Act casual.

She shook her head slowly. “I don’t think so.”

In the next moment, Loran's callused hand had a tight grip on Kaia’s face as he bent down to her level.

“Is that right?” He dragged her up from the chair by the force of his grip. The cabin narrowed around her. Her fingers strayed to the folded knife in the back pocket of her khaki trousers.

“None of that.” Loran smacked her hand away. He pushed her backward, and she stumbled over the chair, tripping over her feet before finding her balance. “You’ve been skimming, Scav.”

“What are you…” Loran’s look shut her up, and she swallowed hard.

Fuck.

“And here I was, thinking we had a good thing going.” Loran sounded almost disappointed, some of the sharp fury fading momentarily from his voice. Maybe she could work with this… Maybe he wouldn’t space her.

“W-we did. I only took the box to keep it safe until the market—”

Her head cracked to the side with the force of the back of his hand slamming into her cheek. The room spun as she stumbled. She raised trembling fingers to the burning skin.

“I can’t believe you’re still lying through your teeth, you little bitch.” He spat, hauling another step toward her. Kaia recoiled, but there was nowhere left to go. With her back against the cold wall of the cabin, all she could do was stare at a frayed thread in Loran’s shirt inches away, waiting for the next strike.

“I’ve taught you well, haven’t I?” His gravel voice was in her ear, his face close enough for her to feel the stubble against her smarting cheek, making her wince. The sweaty musk of him crowded her senses. “Tell me why, Kaia.”

“I… I don’t know.”

The breath was knocked out of her as he drove his palm into her breastbone, slamming her harder against the metal. “No more lying, Scav. Had enough of that. Tell me.”

“I need more… a lot more,” Kaia hissed, coughing. “There wasn’t time to do it by the book. I didn’t think… I only took a little.”

“Never took you for a greedy liar, Scav,” Loran spat. “Go on.”

For the past five years, Loran had let her follow his fleet around in her little ship, collecting the ruins of those he had destroyed once the battle was over. And Kaia had agreed to give him ninety percent of the take. She did it by the books the first year, but ten percent just wasn’t enough. Not for what she needed.

“It’s not for me. I promised someone else.”

“A debt?”

“Yeah.”

Kaia took a shuddering breath, tears prickling for the first time. All the years of keeping her secret, gone to shit. Even Loran seemed taken aback, brow furrowing. He never liked criers.

“Who?” he pressed.

Kaia dragged her eyes back to his, setting her jaw as she pulled herself together. She hated showing weakness to anyone, but especially to the warlord who ruled the run-down station—and her—with his iron fist.

“My brother.”

“Fucking family drama,” Loran rolled his eyes. “How much?”

“One million, seven hundred thousand, fifty-five hundred chips,” she muttered the number from memory.

Recognition flashed on his face, because of course it did. Everyone knew the current going rate to Heaven, even if they claimed no interest in it themselves.

Loran straightened, taking a step back.

“He dying?” he demanded.

“I am.”

Loran threw his weight into his chair, narrowed eyes pinging between Kaia’s own. “You’re not sick…”

“No.”

Now he knows I’m fucking crazy. Unhinged. Useless. I’m definitely getting spaced.

But Kaia wasn’t about to volunteer an explanation. She wasn’t giving him that—the why. She wouldn’t tell him about her little brother’s cancer, or that it had all been her fucking fault. Her parents had scraped together everything they had to send Ahton to Heaven when he died, and that was nowhere near enough. Kaia had no idea where they got the chips for it. The rest of her life revolved around saving what she needed to get to him, and each year it was getting harder to live with the guilt of what she’d done. Killed him, and then left him all alone in Heaven. She’d gotten impatient for her atonement, and that made her careless.

Thankfully Loran didn’t seem interested in all that. He was thinking. She saw it in his eyes, schemes ticking over. Loran was a lot of things, but stupid wasn’t one of them. She had the space now, but remained pinned to the wall. Was he calculating how much use he could get from her before tossing her out the airlock?

“You’re much more his type,” Loran muttered, snapping Kaia out of her reeling thoughts.

“Huh?”

He regarded her, eyes roaming down as though assessing her as a series of parts. Usually when he did that, there was this hungry undercurrent on his face. That was why she thought he sent for her in the first place. But now the gaze was impersonal, calculating. Kaia hugged her arms across her chest, even though no part of her was exposed. She was still wearing the long-sleeved base layer that went under her flight suit and fitted synth khaki trousers. Kaia turned her eyes to the toes of his boots.

“I can get you what you want, Scav.” Loran reclined in his seat. He put an ankle over his knee, thumb tapping against his calf. “And you can make up for this little debacle you’ve created.”

“H…” She swallowed the dry scratching in her throat. “How?”

There was still a chance. She may not get spaced after all. She may get a chance to do it on her own terms, with enough chips to join Ahton.

“Heard of Colossal?”

“The colony?”

For a moment Kaia recalled playing on Artega Seven with Ahton. They’d sat on the dirt floor pretending rocks they’d collected were colony ships discovering New Earth. He loved that nonsense. She’d played along because she owed him that much and more.

A curt nod from the warlord brought her back. He sat forward, all calm. All cold, calculated practicality. It gave Kaia confidence to push herself off the wall and work her head back into the game.

“There’s something happening on Colossal,” he said. “Something big.”

She shoved her ass up onto Loran’s desk. “What?”

“Mare Halena, the commander. She summoned her one and only son back to the ship.”

“So?”

“So…” Loran scooted his chair to the table, legs spread wide on either side of her own. A callused hand drifted to her thigh, fingertips picking over the seams in the pockets stitched there. “Her son hasn’t been on that ship in over a decade. He’s been holed up on Mars, living it up. If she’s summoned him back, it means something is close. Something like a changeover.”

“…So?”

Loran looked at her like she was an idiot, fingers suddenly digging into her thigh as if to squeeze her into understanding. “My little greedy bitch, you can’t be that clueless.”

Kaia scowled, jerking her leg from his grip. “I’ve been too busy running jobs for you, Loran. Not giving a shit about the colonies.”

His lips twitched in a small smirk. “I know. Don’t worry. You’ll get it. If Orion Halen—”

“Orion?” Kaia scoffed. “Does he have a brother named Canis Major?”

“You’ll get to ask him yourself soon.” Kaia didn’t like the flash of Loran’s smirk, but remained silent as he continued. “Orion Halen doesn’t want anything to do with that colony . He’s got… a reputation. And I have a feeling he’s none too happy about the prospective wives his parents probably have picked out for him once he drags himself back to Colossal.”

Kaia’s thought back to the sleek ship she saw in the docking bay earlier, and the expensive-looking man with blue-black hair and long, bitter eyes chiseled into his stony face. Was that him?

“You know all this how?”

Loran shrugged. “Don't you worry about that, little Scav. The rich kid wouldn’t pass up on a chance to stick it to his parents. I bet…”

Loran walked his fingers up her thigh, a small frown on his brows as he strafed inward. He smiled as her muscles tensed under his touch, her breath hitching. Kaia despised him, but it wasn’t just fear that held her in place, and she fucking hated herself for it.

“I bet…” he repeated, “…he’d love to drag a carefree, greedy little scavenger home to mommy and daddy. Fuck her brains out in the next cabin over from their fancy colony suite. Now that’ll be a rebellion. He can’t get out of his duty, but he can make their life fucking miserable.”

Kaia pushed away from him so hard that the heavy metal desk screeched against the floor, drawing his face into a scowl.

“No fucking way. Is that what you were pushing on that one out there?” She jutted her thumb toward the door, where no doubt the scantily dressed woman was still waiting.

“She’s too soft. Too perfect.”

Not like me.

“I don’t need sex with a rich guy, Loran. I need chips.”

“And I need a mole. Someone who can get me a foothold in the colony. Those things are goddamn fortresses, but once I’m in… well, we both know I can siphon all the chips either of us will ever need.”

“And then—”

“And then you can off yourself or whatever the fuck and send yourself to Heaven.”

“Why would a commander-in-waiting want this?” She gestured to herself. She didn’t hate herself, but she was practical. Poor, malnourished compared to Riker 109’s working girls or colony sluts, and not versed in the ways of propriety. She wasn’t a rich guy’s type.

“Oh, Scav.” Loran rose from his seat and bit his lip as he gave her that scan again, only this time, not so impartial or calculating. “I bet you’re exactly the kind of fireball he’d go for. Rough around the edges and just the right amount of rabid. Everything he doesn’t get to be, at least not anymore.”

Her cheeks burned, and she hated how small she felt under Loran’s wolfish grin. He was smart. If he had come up with this plan, that meant it had a chance of working. A real chance, if she didn’t fuck it up.

But this was a big scam to orchestrate. How was she supposed to seduce a would-be colony commander? How could Loran ever think she was capable of that? She wasn’t like the girl out there, endowed and polished with sex oozing from every pore.

But if she pulled it off… She could finally get to her brother. And soon, if she did it right.

“And you’ll make sure I get to Heaven?”

“You have my word, you crazy little bitch,” he smirked.

Kaia’s stomach turned at the flash in Loran’s eyes. “Tell me what to do.”

CHAPTER3

KAIA

Just be yourself.

Kaia repeated Loran’s words in her head like a mantra as she perched atop the bar stool. She rolled a gold ring between her knuckles. Loran had let her keep one, a token of goodwill in their “new joint venture.” Kaia slid the too-large ring onto her thumb and glanced at her reflection in the dusty mirror that ran along the wall behind the bar. Her left cheek still sported a splotch of stinging pink. Kaia grimaced as she pressed her fingertips against the tender skin. She probably should have at least tried to cover that up, but for some reason Loran had instructed her to leave it.

She was still coming to terms with the fact of having agreed to this. The way Loran described it, if she managed to hook up with the heir of a colony ship, it would take her no time at all to get the chips she needed for Heaven. And that was tempting. After years of skimming, she was still nowhere close. At this rate, she’d die of old age before she got to kill herself for Upload. And Ahton was waiting.

“One H2O,” the deep voice a few seats away demanded in that way no station resident ever would.

The bartender, scarred old Theo, who was presently polishing a glass, leveled a deadly glare in his direction, but quickly marked the patron as not being from around here.

“Hundred chips.” He smacked his chip reader on the bar in front of the man who had to be Orion Halen.

“One hundred!” The man’s smooth black brow furrowed in profile.

Theo shrugged. “Look where you are. We ain’t exactly got limitless water here.”

Full lips pursed. Cold eyes narrowed to displeased slits. Then Orion Halen’s wrist was pressed flat against the reader.

It wasn’t really one-hundred… About forty percent of that was tourist tax. Not that Kaia could afford it either way.

Enough stalling.

“Just be yourself,” she repeated under her breath.

There were other instructions too. Like a strict command to ping a connection no more than twenty-four hours after she was on the colony ship. Or else. She didn’t worry about that too much. At this point getting into the orbit of the damn colony was the primary hurdle.

So she slid off her wobbly barstool and walked over to Orion Halen. For a second or two she hovered, staring at the broad back hunched over a shot glass of H2O. The collar of his synthleather jacket was lifted at the back, covering his neck. She smoothed her palms over the khaki pants stretched across her upper thighs and fingered for the knife in its sheath on the side of her leg, just making sure it was there.

Then she tried a little cough.

Orion turned his head toward her just a little, his jawline in sharp relief under the bar of the lights.

“H2O is a stupid name.” Kaia plopped her ass onto the rusted metal stool next to him.

The man’s scent hit her like a rush of air. She couldn’t put words to it exactly, but it was vaguely familiar. Kaia had been so used to the musky smell of human sweat mixed with the powder soap they all used that she was not prepared for the assault of cologne.

But this… Once her nose adapted to the potent sensation, Kaia realized Orion smelled pretty nice. There was something fresh underneath it, yet a warm bitterness on top.

“What is that?” She asked, finally turning to face him, and he was already there to meet her gaze.

Kaia fought the urge to recoil. Ice blue eyes tunneled into her face. Small pupils locked her down, unshifting, and she thought she saw something glowing underneath that had to be a trick of the shitty light in the bar. Kaia blinked fast, breaking the contact. He just had weird eyes, that's all. Lots of people looked weird around here.

“What’s what?” he drawled in a deep rumble.

“Your smell. That bitter thing.” Kaia elaborated, gathering the pieces of her resolve.

Orion shrugged, a lazy movement of one shoulder. “Coffee.”

Of course.

Memories of black pots on the fire and her father dissolving caffeine powder inside them brought recognition. She smelled it all the time as a kid, the one luxury her parents never skimped on down at Artega Seven.

“So you gonna tell me or what?” The question brought her back to the very uncomfortable present.

“What?”

“Why is H2O a stupid name?”

“Because that shit isn’t pure. Pure as we got, sure, but it’s hardly H2O.”

Everyone knew pure H2O was a delicacy only the wealthiest and most privileged would ever try. It wasn’t even healthier—water needed minerals, salts. Rich assholes got hard for it just for the prestige. Pretended to appreciate the “taste”, when as far as Kaia heard, there was none.

“You always this pedantic, or did a rod just crawl up your ass?” Orion looked offensively bored.

Her cheeks flared, and the retort was on the tip of her tongue, but she was interrupted by the loud crack—Theo’s wrinkled palm slamming against the composite surface of the bar.

“Well?” Theo glared at her.

Kaia gritted her teeth. She hadn’t been expecting to be wasting her hard-earned take at the bar that night. But Theo would not tolerate her hanging around without buying something.

“Gimme a kerogel,” she said, waving her wrist over the scanner, cringing when the vibration of a balance being deducted buzzed against her skin. Most people on Riker 109 didn’t have ID implants—they wore tags for that. But Loran had forced one on her when he earmarked her for the lower rings. He made a rule of ensuring his whores were trackable at all times. Couldn’t afford to have them making relationships and giving the goods away for free.

Kaia glanced to her right just in time to catch the flinching scowl on Orion’s mouth. He clearly didn’t approve of her cheap alcohol choice. She didn’t give a shit, ripping the plastic top off the packet Theo threw at her and squeezing a dollop onto her tongue. She cringed when the sickly sweet first taste morphed into a bitter kick. In the corner of her eye, Orion downed the remainder of his water in a gluttonous gulp.

“Another,” he said.

Theo and Kaia exchanged glances as he produced another shot of not-so-pure-but-pure-enough water, waiting until it had been paid for before setting it in front of Orion.

“Careful with waving that thing around here,” Kaia jerked her chin at the shot glass perched between Orion’s long fingers. “You aren’t exactly at the finest establishment in the sector.”

“Thanks for the tip.” Orion downed the second shot.

Who the fuck pays a hundred chips for water and doesn’t even take time to savor it?

Kaia squeezed more kerogel into her mouth. It was by no means good, but she paid for it, and she sure as shit wasn’t gonna waste it.

“How can you drink that shit?” Orion was scowling at the packet between her fingers.

“Some of us aren’t made of chips, I guess,” Kaia muttered.

Orion sniffed, glancing at Theo. “Another for the lady. No, I don’t mean that fucking gel shit. Water.”

Kaia balked. Her first instinct was to reject the offer. You didn't accept H2O without expecting to pay it back around here.

But Orion wasn’t from around here…

“Thank you.” Kaia forced a smile as Theo slid a glass in front of her, giving her a warning look. He was a good man, in his own way. At least, he wasn't gonna let anyone get fucked with within the borders of his establishment.

Kaia hadn’t splurged on H2O in months. She allowed herself a drink once a year on her birthday, and her twenty-fifth was marked with an especially good take from a skirmish a few hundred miles away, so she’d gotten one and a half.

She rolled her first tiny sip around on her tongue, closing her eyes instinctively to focus on the taste. It wasn’t good, she was sure. But it was what she knew, and regardless of her gripes with the idiotic naming of it, to her it may as well be spring water from Old Earth.

“Thanks,” she said again.

“Have another for all I care.” Orion sighed.

Kaia grabbed the opening. “Tough day?”

He gave her a wry smile. “You could say that. And some more. What about you? You from here?”

He scanned her up and down with those freakish eyes, no doubt taking in her scuffed brown boots, black polymeat leggings, worn polymeat jacket. Was he judging her? His gaze lingered where the ribbed white tank top met her chest, revealing the faintest shadow of cleavage, if you could even call it that. Kaia was modest in that department—her tits alone wouldn’t pull a colony man.

“I am now,” Kaia said, picking at the dirt under her fingernails. “Been here ten years.”

Orion’s brows shot up. “A decade in this dump? I’m surprised it hasn’t had an oxygen leak in that time.”

“It has. I patched it.”

“You a mechanic?” Kaia was perplexed at the sudden enthusiasm in his voice.

“That and some other things.” She smirked. “Pilot.”

Orion turned to face her fully then, hand dangling off the edge of the bar where his elbow rested. “What do you fly?”

“Just a small scavenging vessel. A piece of junk, but it’s my junk. Gotta be a mechanic to keep it running.”

He whistled, leaning in. “Which academy?”

Kaia barked a laugh, and the way he frowned for a moment made her wonder how fragile this rich guy's ego could be. She raised the shot glass, which was still more than half-full, at him. “No academy. Learned on the job. Here.”

“You don’t have a license?”

“Why? You gonna report me?”

“Of course not,” he stammered. “Just didn’t think there were still places you could get away with that.”

“Welcome to Riker 109.” Kaia took another tiny taste of H2O.

Between sips of water, she pressed more kerogel onto her tongue. It felt almost criminal to mar the H2O with booze, but it gave her a nice buzz, helping her nerves.

“This station may be a shithole, but I’d fucking love to be in your position. I—” He paused to look at Theo, who placed a kerogel in front of him.

“On the house,” Theo announced.

Yeah, right. Kaia would bet one of Loran’s lackeys got him to do it. A shit-faced mark is an easy mark.

Orion ripped the packet open with his teeth. “Finally some good service.”

Kaia resisted rolling her eyes. Theo did it for the both of them.

She had no idea how she was meant to pull this off: not only seduce a colony heir, but convince him to take her back to his ship with him. Judging by her interaction with Orion Halen so far, she’d be lucky not to kill the man even if she did manage to get him interested.

“So you’re a scavenger. What do you scavenge?”

Kaia opened her mouth to, but hunks of metal didn’t seem like the most exciting answer. She had to up the ante here, get this guy invested or something, right?

“I’ll tell you over another H2O,” she offered.

“Done.” Orion was already waving Theo over.

CHAPTER4

ORION

His blood alcohol levels were rapidly rising in his Neurosync visual overlay—they had some strong shit in these backwater stations. He supposed they needed it, with water so scarce and misery so high.

But he barely paid attention to the percentage ticking ever upward. He was too busy learning about the life and work of the scavenger sitting before him. She had one cheap combat boot perched on the rung of her stool, the other dangling. It had started swinging with excitement, threatening to kick him in the shin as she told him about that day's spoils.

Both of her cheeks were now flushed with the alcohol, obscuring the red welt he'd noted on the left side of her face.

Orion widened his stance a bit on his stool to keep at a safe distance without interrupting her. He’d even caught himself grinning at her animated enthusiasm as her small but pouty lips curled up in a wicked smile.