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

by Nicole Grotepas

  Danielle’s face was stony as she stared at Charly. “That’s one.”

  “Sorry,” the fighter whispered.

  Nothing happened.

  Danielle waved a hand to shush Charly. “If they’d heard that, they would have increased their speed.”

  Soon, the zeppelin overtook the viewscreen. It was magnificent, with its massive sails gleaming in the sunlight and reflected light off Ixion. Seeing the vessel from outside like this, Holly wondered how she’d found a way to be afraid of spaceflight. The ship looked like a fortress and moved with a grace and swiftness that belied the term zeppelin. It wasn’t cumbersome, though that would have made more sense.

  Danielle continued to give orders in the softest voice possible, and soon she was telling them that they’d locked on, and the hatch could be opened.

  “Time for you to go!” Danielle grinned.

  30

  Wick led them through the corridors of the ship to the airlock. He seemed to be attempting to walk as quietly as possible, but the pegleg still clanged along. Holly cringed with each loud step.

  He checked a monitor and then opened the hatch. “We’ll stay here, on silent. You have fifty minutes before our ship runs an automatic life-support scan that their ship will be able to detect. Hail us when you’re ready. Now go.” He waved his hand, motioning for them to pass through.

  “I’ll go first,” Holly said, walking into the airlock. The others joined her, and Wick shut the hatch behind them.

  They waited a moment while pressure equalized, and then Charly opened the hatch into the zeppelin.

  The bay was one that would be used for cargo, but was empty at the moment, smelling of dust and oil. Originally, the cargo bays had been filled with the largest objects moved to the new world by the colonizers—chests, furniture, pianos. This was the first time Holly had been inside the area. It was a large, cavernous room lit by dim perimeter lights.

  Currently, The Golden Eclipse was being used to transport one thing, and since that one thing required very little space, they passed through the cargo bay and entered the corridors on the bottom level of the ship.

  Rooms and service areas fanned off the corridor. This was the crew quarters level, but the crew was sparse for the journey, as their intel had shown, in order to limit the number of people who would come in contact with the object.

  Holly’s footsteps were muffled by the rugs covering the floor as she cautiously made her way through the narrow passage. The place carried that familiar scent of all zeppelin living areas—floral odors mixed with aging carpets and linens. If not for the fact they were doing something dangerous, she would have merely felt like they were embarking on a journey.

  Her crew didn’t need to speak, and so the four of them were quiet as they reached a spiral stairway at the far end of the corridor. The sound of their feet over the stairs was the only noise they made. Holly listened for noise above them, but heard none.

  They went up two levels without seeing another living soul. When they reached the level that would normally be occupied by the wealthiest passengers, they left the stairs and entered the corridor. Holly let the others go before her, and brought up the rear, her hand resting on the handle of her aether whip for reassurance.

  Shiro moved with his cane held at the ready. Odeon led the way, his bright eyes scanning inside the cabins on the other side of windows. Some of the curtains were drawn. Some were open, and those were eerily dark on the other side of the glass.

  Beneath her black travel jacket, she was hot, and sweat dripped down her sides. Holly caught a glimpse of herself in the shiny brass banister as she crept carefully down the corridor, but how anxious she felt wasn't obvious from her appearance. Thankfully. She looked composed and strong.

  Soon, they rounded a bend in the corridor that led to the last of the passenger berths for that level. Odeon stopped, and Holly nearly crashed into Charly’s back. She looked ahead to see what had blocked their way.

  There were two guards outside the room where the valuables of the rich passengers were locked away for long journeys. Humans; big, very muscled, male humans.

  Holly sighed.

  Before they could back up and regroup, one of the guards looked their way and tapped the guard standing next to him, then pointed back at Holly’s team. The guards squared off, but there was only room for them to stand single-file in the narrow passage.

  “Those chaps probably assumed the job would be easy money.”

  “Right? Like who’d they be guarding against on this ghost ship?” Charly agreed. “Oops for them. ‘Cause here we are!”

  Odeon adjusted his club. “This corridor is narrow, but I’ve never needed too much room to knock out an opponent with my Ousaba.”

  “Then let’s get them,” Holly said. “Before they alert anyone else to the fact that they’re about to be robbed.”

  They charged down the corridor with Odeon leading the way. The two men looked as though they were conferring. The one furthest from them—a bald, short yet brutish-looking man—suddenly held a communicator in his hand, and spoke into it.

  “Get the guy with the communicator first,” Holly ordered.

  “I call that one!” Charly yelled.

  The other man, the taller of the two and the one closest to them, spread his body out to fill the narrow passage, his hands at the ready, his legs wide and his knees bent. He had no weapon—probably thought he wouldn’t need it for such a simple gig. Massive hands connected to burly forearms and bulging biceps. He was a goliath, and it seemed that if he merely flexed his muscles, the corridor would split in two.

  Odeon reached him first—since he was in front—but rather than attack the first guard, the Yasoan dropped into a slide and passed between the goliath’s legs. Gripping his Ousaba lengthwise, he tapped the goliath’s groin with the tip of the club, then sprang to his feet on the other side of the man. In one swift motion, he used the opposite end of his Ousaba to knock the communicator out of the other guard’s hands.

  “Odeon, you selfish bastard. I called dibs!” Charly shouted, taking advantage of the doubled-over position of the goliath by kicking him in the forehead like she was drop-kicking a ball.

  Holly cringed. “Not so loud, Charly, we don’t want to wake up the rest of the guard.”

  “This is the guard, Hols. Why would they have more security than this?” Charly asked.

  The giant jerked backward, his hands shooting from his groin to his forehead, a groan escaping his lips.

  “This beast needs to be taken down a few notches,” Charly decided. “You keep the tiny one for yourself, Odeon. I got the giant.”

  “I warmed him up for you, Charly,” Odeon said, engaging with the bald one.

  Charly laughed. “Don’t ask me to share credit with you.”

  Odeon smashed the communicator with his club before Baldy could get it.

  “Wicked move, Odeon,” Holly praised.

  The corridor was so narrow, there was little chance for her to reach the battle. Shiro was in front of her, and in front Shiro, Charly battled the goliath. Beyond that fight, Odeon clashed with the short, bald one.

  Holly stood there uselessly, cheering for her crew. Quietly. She knew there were no other passengers on the zeppelin, but her group had been unable to find out the number of security personnel. They’d come into the gig gambling that the number wasn’t too large. Still, erring on the side of caution, Holly assumed there were more guards somewhere.

  Over the noise of her friends in battle, she heard a sound that pricked her ears up. At first, she thought it was the cacophony of the fight, but soon the sounds separated, and she realized it was the pounding clatter of feet across carpeted wooden flooring.

  All zeppelins were a combination of wood and metal—the wood had been sourced from old sailing vessels from Earth to fit out the ships and make them warm and inviting. Supplying entire fleets of zeppelins had been resource-expensive, and those who remained on old Earth hadn’t wanted to waste all their natu
ral materials on fleets that were never meant to come back.

  Holly’s hopes sank as she spun to see the fresh security guards trampling toward them like a herd of pasture beasts on the run from a predator.

  “Ah. Visitors,” Shiro said from behind her. “They’re just in time for the party.”

  “How do you want to do this, Shiro?” Holly asked, sizing up what they had to deal with.

  “I see three more male, human brutes. My favorite type of humans to fight. You take one, and I’ll take two.”

  She laughed. “We’ll see.” She switched her aether whip on. The hum of violet energy rippled from the device as it uncoiled and formed a beautiful, contained flow of light upon the red carpet. She didn’t know how it worked, and she didn’t care, just so long as it worked.

  The guards coming toward her slowed as they saw the weapon unleash its energy.

  “Did you see that, Ms. Drake? Seemed to scare them,” Shiro remarked.

  “It should,” she said, flicking it slightly, winding up to snap at them.

  Her plan was to wrap the whip around the legs of the first one and topple him, if she could pull that off in the limited space of the corridor. The setting wasn’t ideal for the device, and so her first maneuver ended with the tip of the whip snapping a sconce lamp. It shattered, and a section of the passage dimmed in the broken light.

  Shit.

  “That’s not going to work.” She switched off the whip and put it back on her belt.

  Instead, she swung her arm toward the guard who was now only ten feet from her, and wearing a crooked, malevolent smile on his face. One of her throwing knives shot from the sheath up her sleeve and plunged into his thigh. He shrieked and fell forward, rolling over the bleeding limb, his fluids blending into the dark red rug.

  At least she’d hit where she’d aimed.

  “Good shot,” Shiro said. “He’ll be out for a moment.”

  “But here come the other two,” she muttered as his buddies leapt over him. “I have one more knife.”

  “Use it. I’ll take the other with my sword.”

  Before he’d even finished his sentence, the second throwing knife up her sleeve was zipping toward the guard who was only six feet away.

  The distance was a problem—it was too close to be using her throwing knives—but she was desperate to cut this short. The timer had started right after the hatch had closed in the cargo bay, and already they were fifteen minutes into the gig.

  Holly’s aim had been off for her second throw—the knife sank into her opponent’s right shoulder, and not his thigh like she’d been going for. But still. Something was better than nothing.

  The human guard kept coming for her, laughing.

  Oh no.

  “Shit,” she cursed. A crazed berserker was the only sort of person who could laugh off that kind of injury.

  And just like that, he was right in front of her, reaching giant hands toward her head. But all she could focus on were the butterflies tattooed on both cheeks.

  Shiro squeezed around her without warning, pushing her aside. “En guard, you brute!” He flicked the tip of his sword across the man’s cheek like it was a switch carved from a sapling.

  Holly blinked at the interception. “Dammit, Shiro,” she growled. “You took Butterfly. I had that covered.”

  “Butterfly. A name he surely does not deserve. Anyway, Ms. Drake, you’re out of weapons,” Shiro pointed out, stabbing quickly as Butterfly swiped at him. “I’d never do that sort of thing otherwise, you must know that, correct?”

  “Just focus on your fight,” she grumbled, feeling rescued. What a crap feeling. Mostly.

  On the other side of Butterfly, the final guard had taken up an offensive stance. Holly saw him readying an aether gun.

  Damn.

  She had one final weapon left, contrary to Shiro’s count. The backup knife in her boot was her last resort.

  Holly bent, pulled it from its sheath, and straightened. Butterfly now had a bowie knife and was in the process of dodging Shiro’s thrusts and slashes, while taking his own swipes at her friend.

  Behind her, Holly heard the dwindling battles of Charly and Odeon. But she was preoccupied with how she could stop the moron with the gun while Shiro fought Butterfly in front of her.

  Holly grabbed her whip with her other hand and flipped it on. Now she carried her whip and knife, preparing for a long shot. She needed to be careful to not hit Shiro.

  She waited, watching him and his opponent dance. Flashes of steel, lunges and thrusts that pricked and painted streaks of blooming red across naked flesh.

  She backed up to stand as close to Charly as she could without bumping into the tiny battle, and calculated the move she was about to make. Though the whip was best in wide spaces, she’d practiced for narrow as well. It called for clipped movements, which were harder, but she could do it.

  “Get low, Shiro!” Holly called to her teammate.

  “What, Drake?” Shiro asked, dropping the ‘Ms.’ for only the second or third time in his life. Holly almost didn’t know who he was addressing.

  “Just get as low as you can so I don’t get you,” she urged.

  He still managed to cast a confused look at her.

  “Gun!” she shouted, pointing at the final guard on the other side of Butterfly. “Move!”

  He finally understood, and slashed his sword five times, driving hard at Butterfly, whose face was sporting a lot of red that wasn’t part of his silly tattoos.

  Butterfly hopped further and further back, and then fell.

  Holly aimed and cast her whip, extending it as long as she could. The coil unfurled toward the man who had the aether gun aimed at her crew. The violet strip of light wrapped around the gun in his hands, and she yanked with all her might. The gun jerked from the guard’s hands and flew back toward Holly, but she let it clatter against a wall. She switched off her whip, stepped forward twice, and hurled her last knife toward the final guard, who was in the process of pulling a knife from a sheath on his belt.

  He yelped and turned to run, but her knife had lodged into his hamstring, and he toppled with a howl.

  “These idiots are going to wake the dead,” Holly groaned.

  “Yes, but they’re all in a pile for now. Let’s get the treasure and leave,” Shiro said.

  “We’ve got no time to dispose of them, so I agree,” Odeon said.

  “Knock them all out,” Charly remarked. “That will buy us a few more minutes.”

  Holly sighed. “Alright, let’s get on it.”

  31

  “That’s it?” Charly asked.

  Odeon held the galactic orrery aloft. Neon blue and white lights lined the metal arms that held the seven orbs. The orbs were black crystals that glittered with their own rainbows of light, and which circled a central point—a purple, blue, and black crystal that represented the middle of the galaxy. It was complex and beautiful in some mystical fashion.

  Holly and the others stared at Charly, expressionless.

  “What? It’s not that great,” she said defensively.

  “You’re out of practice, used to being around richies,” Shiro said. “It’s magnificent.”

  “I’m calling cognitive dissonance. You know the price it’ll fetch, so you’re imagining it’s better than it is,” Charly argued. “Like pricey wine.”

  “I would never believe wine tasted better simply because it came at a higher price,” Shiro said, sounding aghast.

  “Odeon, stash it with your tools in your pack, and let’s get out of here quick,” Holly said.

  Odeon did what she instructed as Holly went to the door and opened it to check the corridor again. The crumpled figures of the guards were still strewn up and down the passage. With the one burned-out light, the scene was disturbing. Or would have been if she didn’t know what had just happened.

  Behind her, Shiro and Charly debated what they should do next, bickering like kids.

  “Back the way we came,” Charly said.


  “Too obvious,” Shiro argued.

  “We know what to expect, and we know the way,” Charly said.

  “If we take a new route—” Shiro began.

  “We might get lost,” Charly snapped.

  “I agree with Shiro,” Holly said when she turned back to face them.

  Shiro did a little bow with a hand flourish, a grin on his face. “Wise choice, Ms. Drake.”

  “That’s a mistake, but you’re the boss,” Charly said, shaking her head.

  Holly rolled her eyes. “Ready, Odeon?”

  He finished putting away his safe-cracking tools and the galactic orrery, and rose. “Yes.”

  “Is it safe?” she asked, studying him.

  “Yes, it’s in the large pocket, wrapped in three layers of velvet cloth.”

  “You just carry around spare velvet cloth?” Shiro asked, standing. He’d been sitting on the edge of a table, polishing his sword with a pink cloth as he waited.

  Odeon eyed the cloth the other man had tucked into the pocket of his performance suit. Holly realized the pocket had a zipper.

  That’s actually a good idea for performance wear, she noted, coming around to the concept.

  “Is that a velvet cloth?” Odeon asked.

  Shiro pulled the cloth back out, inspected it, and put it back into his pocket and zipped it up. “It seems to be. Yes.”

  “Looks like I’m not the only one carrying around spare velvet cloth.”

  Holly used the small communicator Danielle had given them to hail the ship. The other woman had claimed it was on a private, secure bandwidth, just beyond detection. Holly had no idea if that was true, but at the moment, she had very little choice.

  “Heading back now,” she said into the device.

  “Good. Hurry. You’ve got fifteen minutes before we have to cut our docking connection,” Danielle informed them.

  “Let’s take a different route,” Holly told her team, leading the way out.

  “Fine, but I stand by my claim that it’s a mistake,” Charly said. “Hols, you know I got your back, always, but I’ve got an extra sense about this crap.”