The Colossus Collection : A Space Opera Adventure (Books 1-7 + Bonus Material)

by Nicole Grotepas

  “You need the adventure and you know it,” Xadrian said.

  “I think it’s you who could use some. I’ve noticed that you’ve put on a few pounds,” she teased. It wasn’t true.

  “Cruel, HD. Cruel and unusual. You know that will haunt me for the rest of the year. Possibly the rest of my life.”

  “Take a breath—it was a joke. But really, you should try doing some of the jobs. You might like it.”

  “Oh I know how they are. I used to do them. You’re right about one thing—they keep you thin and vibrant. Always looking over your shoulder, trying to stay one step ahead of the competition. Very thrilling work. Alas, I’m needed here for other things.”

  “Well, best of luck finding someone else to handle the gig.” She put her coat back on and left enough novas on the table to pay for her drink and tip the bartender.

  “Oh, by the by, HD. This gig could lead to some new information about who left the piece of parchment.”

  She clenched her jaw. He left that to the end. “You know you could have opened with that?”

  He waved a hand to dismiss her irritation. “But then we’d never know what you truly feel about all this.”

  “Doesn’t matter. I’m letting that all go. Moving on.”

  “If you change your mind.”

  “I won’t.” She marched to the exit, threading around the tables. A couple sat before the fire, clinging to each other. A female human sat on the stage, playing a harp and singing in a low alto that began to haunt Holly as she hunched her shoulders and pushed her way through the doors out onto the street. Damn Xadrian. He had a way of always getting to her.

  5

  “You have improved, Holly Drake,” Aelionaias said. The Yasoan trainer’s voice was dark like the sky during a winter storm, like the one dumping snow on the City of Jade Spires outside the Lion of the Spires training center. ”You’re forgiven for skipping my counsel and getting your own aether whip and more throwing knives before you were ready.”

  “Thanks,” Holly said. “Seems fair to me that I work it off. I shouldn’t have done what I did. But look, I really didn’t have many other options.”

  “We could debate that for hours. Holly Drake, there is always a choice.”

  “There is. And I chose what I had to. You did what you had to do—which was not want to work with me anymore.”

  “Yes, but now that you’ve done your penance? I’m pleased to be your instructor.” He adjusted his Yasoan style bun. “Keep working. Practice is essential.”

  Holly finished drying the sweat off her arms, then dropped on the mats into a deep lunge to stretch her legs. She sniffed and cringed—the training center had a sour odor of musk and perspiration. The sounds of others working in the rings and on the courses rose in a cacophony around her. It was a noise that Holly had grown to enjoy. She changed her position and scanned the room which vibrated with moving bodies—mostly Yasoan and humans, with the occasional Constellation here or Centau there. The space was large and open, with high ceilings and expansive windows that let the light from outside cascade in and over the equipment and weapons. Holly breathed deep and finished stretching.

  Time to go. These days she had no time to adopt a casual pace. The rest of her crew had stopped coming to her training sessions—she was on her own. Everyone was under the gun, it seemed. Occasionally she missed having a little cheering squad, but they had lives of their own. When all their paths intersected, that was something beautiful.

  She surveyed the room, her body still itching to run the obstacle courses or engage in practice combat. She could have gone another hour with the training, especially after the irritating meeting with Xadrian earlier in the day—that gave her something she needed to work off. Many aspects of that meeting had frustrated her. Some of it she understood, some of it she didn’t.

  But she had appointments to keep. She threw the towel into a bin against the wall near the locker rooms and put her coat on. The aether whip and knives were stowed in her bag as she strode to the exit. Aelionaias had been stretching on a mat beside her and holding poses to build strength. When she said goodbye, he gave her two besos and a brief bow on her way out.

  Holly shoved the doors open and marched out into the falling snow. Combined with all the perspiration that had taken away some of the pent up emotions, the thick snowflakes swirling up into her face—catching on her eyelashes, and casting a net of white across her dark hair—pulled the remaining irritations from her and replaced that negative emotion with awe. Snow still made her feel like there was something magical in the world. Her feet carried her through the blanketed streets. The glow of the lights lining the jade spires guided her toward the market near her condo in the Yellow Jade district.

  Despite the flurry, the city streets and sidewalks were crowded with pedestrians and vehicles of every type. The layer of white muffled the rumbles of city life. Conversations were hushed and the roar of horns and aether-powered engines were compressed down to a level that might almost be considered peaceful.

  Yasoans bundled up beyond recognition passed Holly in cocoons of coats and hoods as she made a beeline toward her destination. Centaus were rarely out in the snow, but when she spotted figures taller than the rest of the seething mass of bodies, she knew that it was one of those ruling elites. Constellations and humans existed on a more average height plane. As Holly left the Ice Jade District, she crossed the visible border where the lacquer-like color of jade covering the spires changed to match the name of the district. Here the occurrence of Yasoan and Centaus faded until they vanished almost completely.

  The snowy season didn’t last longer than any of the other seasons on Kota, but that was always less obvious when the weather was pleasant. Though the snows imparted that sense of wonder, the increased darkness and bleaker nature of winter and the heavens above being so long obscured from her wore on Holly’s spirits. It had been ages since she’d seen the gas giant Ixion looking down on her, reminding her that there was always something beyond her sight. Something greater than her own trials. True, she’d just been up close and personal with the massive planet, but that was a different vibe altogether.

  Finally Holly arrived at the edge of the street market closest to her home—Happy Moon Market. There were small canopies covering clusters of tented stores to keep out most of the snow. She considered her list, which was mental rather than written down. Just then, her communicator buzzed with a message. She read it and headed intentionally for a specific booth. From the gray shadows of evening, a familiar figure emerged wearing a coat and a broad smile. She exchanged a few besos with him and one on the lips just to see if she could get away with it. She could.

  “Ready for this?” she asked.

  “Love family dinners. So, yes,” Iain Grant said. He was wearing a heavy coat, a wool hat, and gloves. He smiled and she returned the grin.

  “Gabe won’t be there,” Holly pointed out as they began to meander through the market together.

  “Don’t need him. He competes for attention from the ladies.”

  “It’s going to be all women. And you.”

  “Sounds like heaven.”

  Holly laughed. “I hope it is. I should have invited Gabe anyway. Since Meg and him are together all the time, and seem to still manage to get along, it would have been nice for him to attend and balance it out.” Together they strolled through the booths while Holly bought ingredients from various vendors. The canvas material covering the booths was bright and cheery, and kept out some of the cold, at least.

  It would be the first time she made dinner for Iain. She’d put more thought into it than she’d care to admit—to anyone—and she’d chosen a recipe that she knew fairly well, to be certain it would turn out right. The wind blew beneath the canopies and brought the snow up into Holly’s face. Other shoppers bent their heads against the wind and trudged through the slush on the street. A city worker dressed in a bright green outfit guided a self-propelled device through the street that sucked up t
he snow and melted it, then released it into the gutter.

  They found a bakery in a shop behind the front row of booths and slipped inside. A bell tinkled as the door closed. Inside, everything was wood and glass, and Holly found herself instantly at home in the place. The warm air within was laden with the scent of yeast. There were a few other patrons inside and Holly found herself in less of a hurry than she expected. She glanced at Iain. His face was turned up toward the large boards hung above the counter that advertised the prices. The lighting in the bakery was soft and yellow. There were a pair of chairs at a small bistro table. Two female Consties sat at the table, sipping kasé. Holly took a deep breath and calmed herself. Just enjoy this. Just be here now. Enjoy this moment.

  She had several hours before Meg, Lucy, and her mother showed up. Holly glanced toward Iain again. She wanted to stare at him, but soon realized that he’d begun to notice her eyes on his profile. She looked away and let herself bump into his arm. He laughed and glanced at her from the corner of his eye and wrapped one arm across her shoulders and pulled her against him. A glow flickered alive in Holly’s chest and she sank into it, letting it flow out to her fingertips.

  “What’s on the menu tonight?” Iain asked.

  “Soup. And that means we need bread, right?”

  “I think it’s a requirement. Yes. I know I wouldn’t be caught dead with soup and no bread.”

  When it was her turn, Holly bartered with the shop-owner, a human, and walked outside with two round loaves secure in a paper sack. As they picked their way over the sidewalks and beneath canopies, Holly mentioned her frustrating meeting with Xadrian.

  Iain listened. “What was the gig?”

  Holly bit her lip and debated telling him. But if she hadn’t wanted to tell him, she shouldn’t have brought it up. “Doing something out at Shakti. Not really sure what. He didn’t tell me.”

  “Shakti is quite far. That would take two days just to get there.”

  “I’ve never been. Not to say I’d never want to go, but I’m not ready for it right now.” She stopped and collected her thoughts. On their left were the booths of the market, and on their right were the shops at the base of yellow jade spires. The crowd parted around them and passed by, everyone caught up in their own hurry. Holly’s intent was to make sure she’d gotten everything for the dinner, so she took a moment to collect her thoughts as she stared into the distance. Her gaze was focused on the opening into an alleyway. “I think I have everything for the dinner.” She began to say they should head back. But her eyes caught something out of the ordinary. A teenage kid appeared at the opening to the alley, wearing only a shirt and trousers. Not enough for the cold weather. Soon two adults—human males—joined him. The boy looked up at them. Spoke with them, and then ran off, leaving the males behind.

  She wasn’t sure what was so strange about it, only that something about it didn’t seem right.

  “Ready?” Iain asked, prompting her to leave. He’d been watching her, rather than the alley.

  “Yes, sorry.” She shook her head.

  “So what’s your next move, if you don’t want to go to Shakti? An idea I tend to agree with. I’ve been out there. Not much to see but space ports.”

  “That’s just it—why are there ports?” They began walking in the direction of Holly’s condo. “No one travels that far anymore.”

  Iain grunted softly, then spoke. “Well, the military does.”

  “That’s it, though. So what could Xadrian and Dave possibly want out there?”

  “Yes, that does seem odd.”

  “I have this weird feeling that they’re up to no good.”

  Iain was strangely silent before he spoke. “But what could they be doing?”

  “I don’t really know.”

  There was a long silence between them as they trudged out of the market and through the thickening snow.

  Iain put his arm across her shoulder. “What will you do if you don’t have this gig?”

  “Not sure. Hang out with you?” She laughed. “Make some money doing something else?”

  He returned the laughter. “Then when will you know what that is?”

  “When it hits me in the face?”

  6

  Holly pushed her plate away, leaving a fourth of her dish uneaten. She tossed her cloth napkin over the remainder—the dregs of her soup, grapes, a Yasoan fruit, rice, beans, and a light dressing. The bread in the middle of the table had been picked through. Oil and vinegar, bowls of coarse salt and pepper as well as some seasonings sourced from the Centau homeworld were scattered across the dining table. Holly sighed and picked up the two-bulbed glass filled with Anhasis Granva, a dark blue Centau wine, and sat back in her chair.

  “Great dinner, Holly. Thanks.” Meg took a long drink of her wine. “Excellent choice of wine, as well. As usual. Once in a while it’s OK to depart from the standard beer, right?”

  Before Holly could answer, Lucy interjected.

  “Mom?” she asked, then seemed to think better of what she was going to say and pushed her chair back, stood, and went to Meg’s side. Lucy was getting taller by the minute, it seemed. She had to bend to get close to her mother’s head as she whispered something in Meg’s ear.

  “Yes, you may, and thank you for asking.” Meg nodded. Lucy skipped over to the couch in the sitting area of Holly’s condo. The girl plopped down and began reading on a vscreen.

  “Yes, it was quite a nice dinner, my dear,” Sophia, Holly’s mother, said. Sophia always dressed up for occasions. Any occasion. It was something Holly knew to expect from her mother, and this somewhat informal, minor occasion was no different. She wore a glimmering, golden-hued dress top with a slash of red across the breast. Her dark hair was gathered into a bun on the crown of her head with curled locks of hair cascading down across her ears and the back of her fine neck. She was elegant and exquisite, wearing the faintest suggestions of makeup on her eyes and lips. Gems set into the skin along the tops of her cheekbones glittered in the soft yellow light of the minimalist chandelier hanging over the area. She was a sight to behold, almost as though George’s departure had breathed a new passion into her. She turned her attention to Iain, who sat next to Holly. “And it’s been very lovely to meet you, Iain Grant.”

  “Likewise, Sophia. The honor is all mine, of course,” Iain said, dipping his head.

  Holly chuckled, but appreciated his decorum. “That’s all the military training, Mom, don’t let his propriety fool you. He’s actually a real scoundrel.”

  “Please,” Meg said, winking and giving a half smile, “You don’t have to tell me. I know all of Scotch’s secrets. At least the darkest, dirtiest secrets he’s confessed to Gabe.”

  “So, second-hand?” Iain asked, smiling. “If I were you, I’d question their validity. Gabe is also a known rogue.”

  “Is he now?” Meg asked, almost as though she believed him. “Well, if that’s true, it hardly impacts me now. Let him go rogue. But I do ask that he conducts his rogue business in secret so that his daughter has no reason to doubt his integrity.” She took a drink again. Her gaze flitted across the table to the top of Lucy’s head, visible just over the back of the couch.

  The implication of a father going rogue pecked at Holly. Of course it came up by accident, but now that the subject had been breached, an uncomfortable silence settled over Holly and her party guests. “Well, that’s a fun topic to think about.” Holly took a long drink of her wine. “I guess cop father goes of the rails isn’t such a rarity.”

  “Oh come on, Holly. It’s not like Gabe has gone bad. We’re all just joking about it. Right, Iain?”

  Holly felt Iain’s hand touch her thigh beneath the table. He turned to look at her. His steel blue eyes now held a storm like nothing Holly had ever seen before. Where had it come from? Was Gabe really some terrible character and none of them knew the truth?

  “Gabe’s decent, Holly. You know he is. But—” he cleared his throat, “—I’m sorry about George.”
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  So that was it. Holly studied Iain’s face. She bit her lip. His face—she could study it forever. Ixion’s ghost, it wasn’t the first time she’d stared into his eyes and realized he was her equal. She almost wondered if he wasn’t better than her—someone who inspired her to try harder, whose presence compelled her to dig deeper beneath all the layers of self-protection and deceptions that she told herself until she could approach her own raw truths and just . . . grow. Become a better leader. A better human.

  Holly opened her mouth to answer Iain.

  “Do not think for a moment that you have to apologize for that cretin,” Sophia answered, before anyone else could say a thing.

  Holly glanced across the table at her mother.

  “Mom, hello?” Meg flashed a meaningful look at Sophia, then flicked her chin at the sofa where Lucy still sat, appearing to be absorbed in whatever she was reading.

  “Well, I am sorry, but I’m not going to protect the child from the truth about what her grandfather has done or what he’s become,” Sophia said vehemently. “Should we rewrite history for him? He chose his side. And if we don’t want history to repeat itself, we have to be open, blunt, and honest. You know, maybe if I’d been less afraid of the truth, Holly wouldn’t have picked Graf. He was awful. I could see that from the moment I met him. Sorry Holly, maybe you don’t want to talk about that. But I’m tired of hiding behind unwritten rules. They trap us!”

  Holly held back a gasp. She felt Iain’s grip tighten slightly where it remained on her leg. Had they ever spoken frankly about Holly’s former life? She couldn’t recall at the moment. All she could think about was her own shock. And her fear that he’d make a hasty decision about her based on what had happened with Graf.

  “For the love, Mom. What are you doing? This is hardly the time to be . . .” Meg said.

  “What? What have I done now? You think, Meg, that even one of us can escape the reality of our decisions? The reality of what George did? George bought Graf’s act. I never did. How, I wonder, could a man with daughters not see through the guise of a man like Graf? I wonder that. I wonder, often, how he was fooled by it. Meanwhile, I always knew what Graf was.”