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

by Nicole Grotepas

  “Almost there,” she said to Shiro.

  “Centau gods,” Shiro yelled. “Centau gods! That’s a terrible joke, is it not?”

  “It was bound to happen,” Holly called back. “I’m surprised it took so long.”

  “So the gods live with us? Terrible basis for a religion!”

  “Not the time for a chat about religion and philosophy.”

  Something zinged past her head. She caught a glint of metal as whatever it was embedded in the stone of the bridge they were currently crossing.

  “A Red Star,” Shiro panted from behind her. “They’re throwing them at us.”

  “Shit,” Holly said. That was the last thing they needed. She added a few zigs and zags to her path. “Dodge them. At least it’s not an aether gun.”

  A chunk of stone railing exploded in a fury of purple light to her left.

  “Spoke too soon, Ms. Drake.”

  “Idiots!”

  The spireway platform they reached was busier than the one they’d left behind. If their pursuers kept throwing weapons and shooting at them, someone was going to get hurt.

  Of course there was a queue for gondolas. But as they neared the waiting area, one of the large capsules slipped away full of passengers, and another one slid into the loading zone. The doors opened, and its passengers exited.

  “This one. Step on it, Shiro!”

  Aether projectiles exploded near her feet, hissing and sending rubble flying. She cursed again, hunching her shoulders as dust rained down on her.

  “What the hell are they even after?”

  “Does it matter? We’ve established that these brutes merely want to wreak havoc on your plans always, Ms. Drake.”

  As she approached the queue, she hoped the fools would stop with the shooting and the throwing stars. Otherwise, they’d hit bystanders. But the line of Centaus and Yasoans saw the fight coming toward them, and scattered like seeds on the wind in a flurry of worried sounds and cries.

  Holly slid under a railing, then leapt over another, then one more, and finally jumped onto the waiting gondola. Shiro was right behind her, squeezing between the closing doors. Three Yasoans huddled in the far corner, watching them with bright, worried eyes. The capsule jerked forward, leaving the boarding zone behind.

  Holly spun and watched the receding platform. Their pursuers stopped short of leaping across the gap to grab onto the gondola spiriting her and Shiro away.

  25

  The Echo Taproom was a place Holly was familiar with due to Darius’s infamous gambling habit.

  “It’s not so bad if you’ve got the money to pay for it,” Darius said as he led the way to the bar through the snowy streets a day after finding out about the Centau treasure job. Their view was hindered by the fat, white flakes landing on their eyelashes and flurrying up into their faces.

  “Which you don’t,” Holly pointed out.

  “Actually, I do at the moment. But other times, not so much.”

  “Spend it on gambling, and you for sure won’t.”

  “Unless I win.”

  “Which you won’t,” Holly said, grinning.

  “I’m feeling lucky tonight.”

  “Feelings like to lie.”

  Darius snorted as he pushed the doors open. A blast of snow followed them in. This was his favorite place, and everyone knew it.

  “It’s always a risk,” he noted as she slipped past him while he held the door. “But I’m feeling lucky tonight in all the ways that count.”

  “You mean as in the people you’ve ripped off won’t be here?”

  He laughed. “You got it. Now, Drake, let me do the talking. I know what kind of sleaze ball we’ll be dealing with, and I know how to handle people like that.”

  She cocked her head as she surveyed the bar. “I’ll let you do the talking up until I feel like you’re overpromising or getting too pushy.”

  “I suppose that’s the best I can ask for.”

  He led them through the sleek bar, ambient lighting filling the room with the perfect amount of warmth. Tufted white leather seats encircled cocktail tables. Meanwhile, small groups of humans, Consties, and Yasoans filled the bench seats, drinking and talking in soft voices.

  “He’s meeting us in the basement,” Darius said.

  He led them through the main floor, down a hallway, then down a flight of stairs, past the rooms full of beer kegs, and on through a warren of tunnels. An alarm sounded as they crossed one threshold, then abruptly switched off. The smells of beer, dust, and cigarette smoke got stronger, and soon they came to a wooden door.

  The door opened into a room clouded with the yellow haze of cigar smoke. Raucous laughter greeted them, as did the sight of crowds with cigars dangling from their lips. Cards and game pieces hung from human hands, as well as the hands of Consties and a few Yasoans.

  This was where she’d first met Darius. Or at least, where she’d met him the second time, when Odeon had introduced them, insisting he’d be a great addition to the crew.

  Darius inhaled and laughed. “I love this place.”

  “No one in here you’ve pissed off?”

  “Oh, sure, quite a few of them. But I paid them all back eventually, or gave them their pound of flesh. They’ll just never gamble against me again. At least, not until I get them drunk. Then they’ll definitely be in.”

  “That’s how you do it? Get them drunk? So noble. So chivalrous.”

  “That’s what I always say, Drake. I personally resurrected chivalry.”

  After Darius questioned the bartender, they made their way to a corner booth, shrouded in darkness. A human male already occupied one of the seats, watching the room at large, drinking a tall, thin glass of beer.

  As they approached, he took a sip of his drink.

  “Yo,” Darius said when they reached him and stood over his table, blocking his view. “I’m Darius.” He sat down. “Saanvi Chadda sent me.”

  The man’s gaze finally flicked to their faces and focused on them. At least, one eye did. The other stared vacantly ahead, unblinking and still as a dead fish on a dock.

  Holly shivered.

  “Wick,” he growled, holding out a gloved hand.

  Darius gripped it and shook, then Wick offered his hand to Holly.

  She wanted to recoil, but clenched her jaw and grabbed his hand. She kind of expected it to be cold and lifeless, just like his eye. When his hand gripped hers, she sighed quietly in relief.

  “Just ‘Saanvi’ would have worked. No need to spread her full name in a place like this,” Wick’s dark, deep voice rumbled across the wood table.

  His cheeks were swarthy, and his clothes strange—layered up like he’d put on as many as he could, only none of it was the right attire for layering. First of all, the top layer wasn’t a winter coat or anything like that, but a blue and red striped vest, worn over what looked like a white jacket, which was pulled down over a long-sleeved blue shirt. The cuffs shot out from under the jacket sleeves. The layer closest to his skin looked like it was a black collared shirt. His dirty blond hair was spiked and greasy. Dark stubble covered his cheeks, and the fake eye lent him an air of being an outsider, even in the City of Jade Spires.

  “Oh, yeah, sorry. I know most people here. I guess I got comfortable.”

  “Never get comfortable,” Wick rasped.

  “Advice from an expert, thank you.” Darius glanced at Holly, but he managed to not roll his eyes in exasperation.

  Wick never focused on them. He kept his one good eye on the carousing crowds. “What is it you need? Saanvi said something about transport.”

  Darius leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. “Yes, about that. We need a fast ship.”

  “Done,” Wick said. “Is that it?”

  “Your ship is fast. And can your pilot sneak up next to another ship, get us aboard?”

  “With ease. I’m the pilot.”

  “And then get us out of there?”

  “This sounds questionable. Pardon
me for noticing,” Wick said.

  “It might be. Consider it a rescue operation.”

  “So it’s not that, I can guarantee it,” Wick said.

  Darius shrugged. “Just answer the question.”

  “Ah, well, you’ve come to the right place. That is perfectly what the Benedicat Cor Tuum is best at. Silent running, a sneaky dodger, and Danielle will love it. She’s been itching for something like this.”

  “Danielle?” Holly repeated.

  Wick’s gaze flicked to her. “The captain of the ship.”

  “You speak for the captain?” Darius asked, eyeing Holly in a way that meant, ‘Shut the hell up, Drake’.

  She bristled, then shrugged, masking her irritation. Sometimes she had to let the experts on her team do what they did best. At times, that meant letting Darius negotiate.

  “That I do. I’m her right-hand man.” He dropped his right hand hard onto the table.

  Holly jumped in her seat and took a deep breath. Wick unnerved her.

  She took the moment to scan the room, looking for Cocks or SC goons. If there were any around, she couldn’t spot them.

  “I also handle the ship finances, the catering, and everything else. We take half payment up front. Half when the job is finished. But we can’t determine price till I know how much fuel we’ll need, and that means I’ll need to know how far away the target ship is. What I’m saying, if you couldn’t tell yet, is that I’ll need all the details of this job before we can finalize the deal.”

  “Price is complicated. Can you tell us a rough estimate before we agree on anything? The name of the ship we’re after would give away the job. You see our dilemma?” Darius smiled, but there were teeth in it.

  Wick brought his good eye to focus on Darius, his brow lowered in a scowl. He leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms over his chest. A general rustling came from the man as he seemed to attempt to get comfortable. Then his eye swiveled back out to the crowd, leery of every one of the speakeasy patrons. “We did a job once that sounds similar. The price after food, fuel, travel times, and the headache of accommodating two obnoxious morons tallied to around thirty thousand novas.”

  Darius hissed, and Holly knew it was part of his ruse, perhaps to get Wick down on price before they’d even begun negotiations. Which meant the negotiation had already begun.

  Darius looked at her. She wasn’t sure what he wanted her to do, so she took a risk and shook her head, which Wick would interpret to mean “too high.”

  Wick, for his part, seemed to pretend to not see it, keeping his one-eyed gaze situated at a table full of card players, quickly scanning guests, then settling it back on the table and the card players. “If that’s too high, get yourself another ship. Danielle is a princess. She leaves me to handle any passengers we bring aboard. I take a good chunk of the novas. She knows it. I’m worth it, she says.”

  “I’ll bet you are,” Holly muttered.

  “I am,” Wick said, a faint smile cracking his face. It looked more like a snarl.

  “Let’s just say thirty thousand is your first estimate. After we agree on this, then work out the particulars, and you get a better idea of the distance, perhaps the price might be lower?”

  “I might agree to that. But then we’d need to work out my tip.”

  Darius sighed. “Tip?”

  “The portion I keep for myself, for handling your ugly faces.”

  “And you said you’re Danielle’s right-hand man?” Holly asked.

  “That I did.”

  Maybe that would become more apparent later. He must be, otherwise why would the captain send him?

  “Depending on the job, I want to walk away with five to ten thousand of my own novas. Danielle doesn’t require extra pay, since everything else you spend, she keeps for herself.”

  “You’re her pilot . . . you’re saying she doesn’t pay you?”

  “Aye. Well, she pays me a tiny wage. But it’s barely enough to live on.”

  Holly leaned close to whisper in Darius’s ear. “Let’s agree to his terms. We’ve got no time to find another ship.”

  “That’s not how negotiations work, Drake,” Darius whispered back.

  “I know. But we don’t have time for this. Every second we’re here negotiating, we’re not positioning ourselves to get the job done.”

  “Fiiiiine,” Darius hissed. He turned back to Wick. “Five thousand novas.”

  Wick hesitated. “That’s the tip?”

  “The tip I’m offering, yes.”

  “Too low,” Wick growled. “Ten thousand.”

  “Oh please,” Darius laughed. “Five thousand.”

  “Nine thousand,” Wick said, bringing his eye to rest on Darius’s face. His face was still, impassive.

  “Five thousand.”

  “Eight thousand.”

  “Five thousand,” Darius said, looking at his fingernails.

  Wick was silent. He scowled. He frowned.

  “Seven thousand.”

  “Five thousand. Final offer.”

  “Six.”

  “Done.” Darius slapped the table with both hands and sat back, evidently very pleased with his skills.

  Wick held out his gloved hand, and Darius shook it. “We leave tonight.” The other man rose and dusted off his clothing. “Done here. Meet me on the space platform, bay number four. The ship is docked there. We don’t bring it any closer than that.”

  “She’s wanted, then.”

  Wick just laughed and walked away. As he moved, Holly noticed the wooden leg clomping along the stone floor of the speakeasy.

  She turned to Darius, her mouth open to say something.

  “I saw it, Drake.”

  “Why the hell wouldn’t you get that fixed?”

  “Maybe because he’s poor.” Darius shrugged.

  “Oh, right. That would explain the haggling.”

  “Which he sucked at.”

  “Or he’s got a good poker face,” Holly pointed out. “Now to finish prepping.”

  26

  “Show your weapons and state your name,” Wick said at the hatch to the Benedicat Cor Tuum. He held out his gloved hand to indicate that Holly and her crew couldn’t pass till they obliged. “The captain doesn’t let just anyone bring whatever they want on board.” He gave them jazz-hands, a move that contradicted with his gruff appearance.

  “Wise, but very annoying,” Shiro said, pulling his sword out of the cane sheath. He glanced back at the bay behind them, checking for security, an expression of concern on his face. “Shiro Oahu.”

  “Fine, I’d see that ridiculous sword coming a mile away. Enter,” Wick said, nodding Shiro through.

  Shiro returned the thin blade to its scabbard, and continued on through the hatch. The light freighter used the bay of the space platform, unlike the passenger zeppelins that orbited the platform for loading and unloading.

  Charly held up her fists for Wick to inspect. “This is it. Want me to leave them here?”

  “And you are?”

  “Charly Stout.”

  “Watch what you do with them,” Wick said, waving her past. “I’d hate to have to separate you two. But I would. Oh, I would.”

  “Right.” Charly smirked. “I’d like to see you try.”

  “Would you?”

  “Bring it.”

  “Don’t tease.”

  “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.” Charly flicked her hair and slapped one fist into the palm of her other hand, and then strutted off.

  “Odeon Starlight.” He held up the smooth wooden Ousaba.

  “A staff. Good choice.”

  “Actually, a club. A Ousaba club,” Odeon said.

  “Looks more like a staff,” Wick insisted.

  Odeon shrugged. “A technical distinction.”

  “I’m calling it a staff.”

  “It doesn’t answer to staff.”

  “It will when I call it,” Wick said. He leaned closer to Odeon, a gleam in his eye. “And if it doe
sn’t, I’ll find it and keep it till we drop you back here.”

  “We shall see,” Odeon said in a quiet tone, a dangerous smile touching his lips.

  Holly stopped in front of Wick and showed him the handle to her aether whip. It looked so benign without its aether glow and coil. She wasn’t going to strip off her throwing knives, however. That would take forever.

  Her back between her shoulder blades itched, like there were eyes on her, as though at any minute, Shadow Coalition members would show up.

  She snuck a glance over her shoulder, saw nothing, then looked back at Wick.

  “And your name?” he asked.

  She sighed. “Holly Drake. We met before.”

  “Did we?”

  She squinted, trying to read his expression. Was he toying with her?

  He eyed the aether whip. Frowned, then slid his one eye back to her two good eyes. “That’s it?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you’re sure about that?”

  “Of course,” Holly lied.

  “It’s just that I’ve got a witch aboard who says otherwise.”

  “A witch? But you didn’t know that you’d met me, or remember my name? The intel from this witch, and from you, frankly, seems questionable. I use this whip. That’s all you need to worry about.”

  “Come aboard. But I’ve got my eye on you,” Wick said, tapping the temple near his good eye.

  “Just the one, though? I’ll be fine,” Holly said, skirting past him to walk through the hatch and into the corridor of the ship.

  She didn’t love that she’d just teased a one-eyed man about being one-eyed, but strength and maybe a bit of smack-talk was a language that men understood. Standing up to Wick was a necessity. She didn’t trust him, and she wanted him to know it.

  As Holly’s boots clomped across the gangway, she revisited Wick’s claim. Was there really a witch on the ship? Sounded like trouble. The last time Holly had dealt with a witch, the female Centau had been on the crazy side, living at the edge of a volcano, and convinced she could make a magical amulet from the Analogue Alley Christmas angel.

  She didn’t look forward to meeting another.

  “That everyone?” Wick called after her.

  “Yes. Darius stays on Kota,” Holly shouted back, striding through the corridor.