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

by Nicole Grotepas

  “Knock it off, Darius. Don’t pressure Holly,” Charly said.

  “It’s not pressure—that’s what she was going to do with it in the first place.”

  “That was before we’d seen it, lad. Look at her. Her lights glow. Her motions are magical. How do we part with something so powerful?”

  Darius cocked his head to the side. “It’s hardly powerful. Wasn’t it billed as art? You’re all acting like it’s so magical. Trust me, it’s not. One, magic’s not real and two, if it were magical, there’s no way it would have ended up in your silly possession. The most powerful names in the 6 Moons would have torn each other apart to keep it from the likes of us.”

  “Darius, they did almost tear us apart,” Odeon said. He leaned forward to touch the orrery, gliding one lavender colored fingernail across the glittering lights of a galaxy. He smiled. “I have just touched a billion stars. I am like god.”

  “I don’t care how many galaxies or stars you can touch, we need to move this bitch, get the cash, and keep on building Holly’s visions before it’s too late,” Darius said, rising. He went to the window overlooking the floor of the club. “I don’t trust anyone right now. All these people having drinks down there? Threats. This orrery belongs in a safe where no one can get it. We simply don’t have the security set up like the Centaus we took this from to keep an item this valuable safe. We need to move on it now.”

  It was unavoidable. Darius was the only one among them talking sense. Holly didn’t like it because she wasn’t sure selling it was the right move, but there was no way they’d be able to fend off the powers that would be coming for it. She could almost feel them gathering in the distance, the Surge Club in their sights as they bore down on Holly and her crew, ready to ransack the place and collect the orrery.

  “I agree,” Holly said. “But give me tonight to make sure you’re right. Magna was out of commission. And as far as Voss is concerned, well, she had her chance to come for it. If she comes tonight, I’ve got several weapons with her name on them.”

  “I’m not staying here tonight,” Darius said. “I need some sleep. Anyone staying tonight?”

  Holly glanced at the rest of the crew.

  No one moved to indicate they’d remain at the club.

  “I’ll be here till we close shop,” Charly said.

  “Then I’ll take it home with me.” Holly gestured like she was snatching it to her chest as though it were a treasure.

  “I’ll help you transport it,” Odeon said.

  “Me as well,” Shiro hurried to say, when he heard Odeon offer.

  “You’ll all just follow me on a stroll across the city?”

  “Just leave it here, Hols. I have a safe. When you’re ready to go home, we can secure it.”

  Holly nodded. “Fine. We decide tomorrow what to do with it.”

  “I don’t like it, Holly, but we still need to figure out how to pay Le Roi back,” Odeon said. “The second half of what we owe.”

  “We can pool our money, Ms. Drake,” Shiro said in a gallant voice.

  “That may be what we have to do,” Holly said. “Though I hate to admit it. Not so sure I buy the secret slave colony bit, but I know for certain I don’t want to have Wick on my tail.”

  “In more ways than one,” Darius said, with a laugh the was clearly meant to sound obscene.

  “Wow, thanks, Darius. I didn’t need to think about that.”

  “You’re the one who said it.”

  “Darius is very good at twisting things,” Odeon remarked, flashing the crew’s tech wizard a scowl.

  “That’s the truth,” Darius agreed. “And everyone loves it.”

  “I wouldn’t say love it, chap. Tolerate is more accurate.” Shiro stood and stretched. “I must be off, then. Since the parade across the city isn’t going to happen.”

  “Yes, I’ll put it in Charly’s safe for the night,” Holly said.

  The conversation dwindled and the others left, one by one, leaving Holly to watch over the galactic orrery.

  42

  The rest of the crew was gone. Charly mingled down below with patrons and Holly watched from her perch above the bar in the Bird’s Nest. She clutched a drink to her chest. A whisky—smooth, honey-colored, and drinkable. Dave would love to see how he’d influenced her. A cold beer would have been so nice, but there was a chill where she’d been standing at the window to the street before she settled at the spot overlooking the club. She’d wanted warmth, a glow, that heat that came from strong liquor.

  Many of the patrons were Centaus, and they flocked to Charly like she was some kind of wizard, casting a spell over her legions of followers. As Holly watched her friend, behaving with such grace and class, she realized she hardly recognized the woman when she fell into this particular role.

  Holly sipped the whisky. She glanced at the cocktail table over her shoulder again. The galactic orrery glowed in the dim light. It was eye-catching. Did she have to part with it? It would be so hard to say goodbye to the beautiful thing.

  What if someone came for it? Right now? What would Holly do?

  She fantasized for just a moment how she’d respond to that situation—her whip was attached to her hip, like always. She’d pull that out, and use it on the intruder. She’d scoop the orrery up. She’d break the window and leap to safety, leaving the thief behind her if she needed to.

  She’d do whatever it took to keep that thing safe.

  But why?

  The sound of footsteps in the stairwell, made her heart skip a beat. Holly turned, put her drink down, and readied herself, her hand resting on the handle of her aether whip.

  Odeon’s Yasoan face appeared in the doorway, his brilliant eyes catching the light and snagging Holly’s heart till she laughed.

  “Damn, Odeon. You scared me.”

  “Holly Drake. You’re still here,” he said. He took off his layer of warm clothing and strode around the room until he was standing beside her, shedding his gloves, hat, multiple jackets and his coat along the way and draping them over the chairs and the couch as he passed them.

  She leaned toward him for some besos and they embraced for a quick second. Holly picked up her drink.

  Below them, music throbbed in the Surge Club. So many parties. So many lives unlived, dances skipped, lovers never held. The music. The drink. It all made her nostalgic.

  “What are you thinking, Holly?” Odeon asked, softly, following her gaze down to the floor where a few couples danced.

  “Nope. You tell me first,” Holly said, feeling only slightly drunk.

  “You win. I am curious about what’s so special about the orrery. It can’t be just a simple decoration. Can it?”

  Holly sipped her drink. “I’ve been trying to figure out the same thing. What is a galactic orrery? Is it only a beautiful piece of art, or is it something else entirely? Darius teased me about it, but there’s something almost magical about that stupid thing back there on the table.”

  “I understand what you mean, Holly. When I look at it, the device tugs something in my soul. It speaks to me.” He looked back over his shoulder at the device where it spun happily at the center of the furniture arrangement.

  “We must sell it, though. To fund the next stage. We sank so much money to get it. We’d never recover if we don’t sell it.”

  “But is recovery worth it?” Odeon asked cryptically.

  Holly glanced at him. “What do you mean?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  She thought about what he said. They were silent for a few minutes, watching the party beneath them.

  One of the Centaus below caught her attention. A male. Stately like they all were. Beautiful. Wealthy, and emanating power. He moved with the grace she’d come to expect from the Centaus. Suddenly he looked up as though he could see Holly through the dark one-way glass. “They have so many secrets. Will we ever know their secrets?”

  Holly’s communicator buzzed and she removed it from her pocket. When she loo
ked back at the Centau, he no longer watched her. She relaxed.

  A familiar voice on the other end of the line spoke to her. “It’s a fake, but I know where the real one is.”

  Holly didn’t believe it. She turned and studied the orrery, spinning on the table, promising so much. It couldn’t be a fake. Could it?

  “What does it do?” Holly asked, giving Odeon a look.

  “Find the real one, and I’ll tell you.”

  Holly sighed and ended the call. “Xadrian claims that’s a fake. He knows where the real one is. He claims.”

  “And do you believe him?” Odeon asked. His face held a fury Holly had rarely seen on her Yasoan friend.

  “Maybe. Somehow he knows we have this one. I’m going to find out what he knows. Whatever happens, that much I swear. We’ll have to find out where the ‘real one’ is and then make him talk. I think that’s what we have to do.”

  “Holly Drake. I don’t need to say this, but I will. You know I’ll follow you anywhere.”

  * * *

  THE END

  * * *

  Reign of the Colossus continues the saga of Holly Drake against the Shadow Coalition.

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  1

  “It’s not even from Earth,” Holly Drake said, studying the painting beneath the glow of her flashlight as Odeon traced a knife around the canvas along the frame.

  She lit the way for him to do the work. The oil painting was thick with brushstrokes depicting a landscape of a lake dotted with fishing boats in the northern region of the Sliver—the inhabitable region—of the moon Kota. “But it’s done like it is. That’s the northern range. Elan lives there.”

  Odeon’s fingers slipped and he swore. Holly inspected the mistake on the canvas.

  “Uh oh.”

  There was a slight tear in the fabric where he’d screwed up. Odeon’s finger went to his mouth.

  “Hold the painting for me, Holly, please.”

  Holly used one of her gloved hands to grab the edge of the canvas flap where about sixteen inches of it had been cut.

  Odeon balanced the knife in his hand and pulled the glove off the injured hand. Both Holly and Odeon were dressed head to toe in black, including hats and gloves. She shone the light on Odeon’s naked, pale lavender hand. A prick of red blood beaded on a minor cut.

  “You alright?”

  “I’ll be OK,” he reassured her, but there was a note of annoyance in his voice. He covered the cut with his mouth for a moment.

  She watched as Odeon removed his hurt finger from his mouth and stared at the cut. His bright, multihued eyes seemed to take on a light of their own under the illumination of the flashlight. The bleeding on the cut stopped.

  “That is good enough,” the Yasoan whispered, putting his glove back on.

  “You stopped the bleeding.”

  “Yes.”

  “With your healing song?”

  “Yes.”

  “But, why not heal it all the way?”

  “That would take too long and require too much energy.”

  He took over holding the canvas and began working again. The knife made a slight bzzt sound as it sliced through the fibers. The museum heating system turned on with a loud hum, carrying the scent of rich surroundings and wealth throughout the museum.

  “You are right, Holly this painting was done later—not on your Earth. Here. Perhaps fifty years after Kota was settled. The Yasoan was learning human styles, experimenting,” Odeon answered as he worked. “Someone still values it. Perhaps not us. But someone.”

  “Just like a Yaosan, to study the art of the other races like that.”

  “We are the best,” Odeon said.

  Holly caught a faint smile on her crewmate’s face.

  “You are my favorite race,” Holly said.

  “We’re everyone’s favorite race.”

  “Odeon’s right, though. Er, not about being everyone’s favorite race. I take issue with that,” Darius said over the comms. “But about that dumb painting you’re currently stealing, he’s right. We’re not the judges, just the thieves. Who cares what it looks like? It could be a crayon drawing of a clown and some balloons and I’d get the job done. Someone wants to spend two hundred thousand novas for us to get it for them? Sounds good to me! Would they like kasé with that? Anything else I can get them? Perhaps a selection of very fine drugs? And a red wig and red nose? Perfect. I’ll grab those on my way to collect the dough.”

  “‘The dough?’ That does sound like the sort of slang a job like this calls for, Darius. And I’m sure you’d be able to upsell the client. How’s Shiro doing?” Holly asked as Odeon flicked his knife shut.

  With the knife put away, he lifted the canvas out of the frame. His hands were steady and careful as he delicately rolled the large painting up. Holly put the flashlight into her pack of tools. Then she hooked her thumb under the strap of the cylindrical tube crossing her chest and lifted it over her head. She quickly unscrewed the cap and held it open while Odeon slid the rolled painting into the protective tube.

  “Shiro? He’s handling it, looks like. Yeah, we might have a problem in a few minutes. Right now, he’s currently removing all his clothes. I think the female security guard wasn’t falling for his suave act and creepy requests to wine and dine her. So now he’s resorted to pretending to be having a mental breakdown.” Darius cursed. “He’s putting his trousers on his head.”

  Holly sighed. “We didn’t have enough time to plan this one. Is he still inside the museum lobby?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, at least he won’t freeze to death. Still snowing outside?”

  “Yep,” Darius said.

  “These are the worst conditions for our job,” Holly admitted. Now they’d be making their getaway in the snow.

  Shiro’s assignment had been to distract the guards as the museum was closing down. Meanwhile Holly, Odeon, and Charly would snag the painting before the stronger security measures turned on. Charly stood guard at the entrance to the room where the painting had been displayed.

  “Hols, you almost done? We only have a few minutes before the nightwatchman does his final sweep,” Charly whispered.

  The room was dark but the alarms hadn’t been set yet, which was why they were there at that precise moment, stealing the painting.

  Holly draped the tube over Odeon’s head. She slung her backpack of tools onto her shoulders.

  “For once I agree with you, Drake. You know how I love to be the contrarian. But two days isn’t enough to bring a job like this together. It requires finesse. Instead we’ve got Shiro behaving like a zoo animal on hallucinogenics and my half-assed replacement footage displayed on their security feeds.” Darius cursed again.

  The stress in his voice made Holly’s heart rate increase.

  “Beggars can’t be choosers and all that,” she muttered.

  “Charly, you doing OK? How’s the coast?”

  “Still clear, Hols,” Charly whispered. “But yeah, that watchman should be here any second.”

  “I am surprised you agreed to this job, Holly,” Odeon said quietly.

  Holly felt her brow furrow. Was he saying it so the comms didn’t pick it up?

  “Our options were limited. We owe Danielle Le Roi. You know what would happen if we didn’t pay her back on her schedule.” Her ire rose as she thought of the debt. All for a galactic 3D orrery that Xadrian Tyanne claimed was fake. The outcome of a requested meeting with him still waited for her. A bitter taste filled her mouth as she recalled his message over her communicator, just when she’d been basking in the moment of having obtained the treasure. “It’s a fake
.”

  “Still not clear on that, Drake. What’s Le Roi’s threat?”

  “Something horrible,” Holly explained. “Probably kidnapping and leaving me on a derelict shepherd moon.”

  “But doesn’t that sound sort of nice, for you? Like a vacation.”

  “I’d be free of all the stress related to all this nonsense, that’s for sure. How are we on time, Darius? Do your job: guide us.”

  “Rawr,” Darius said. “OK, cool down. Looks like Shiro’s going to need to take off soon. I think we’ve only got seconds before they just nab him and throw him in the slammer. Charly, you got the watchman just around the corner making rounds. That means, Drake, that you’re going to need to find an alternate exit.”

  “Why didn’t you say something sooner? Let’s go.” Holly turned and ran toward the exit where Charly waited.

  “I did. Just now. And sorry, I was distracted by the conversation.”

  Even in the midst of the adrenaline surge, Holly was shattered by what Odeon had said. “And why are you surprised, Odeon? It was the only job available.”

  “Is this the time to discuss it, Holly?” he asked, drawing up beside her as she nearly slammed into Charly, who was just turning to look over her shoulder at Holly.

  “Whoa.” Charly said. “Let’s go.”

  They stalked down a dimly lit corridor lined with paintings.

  “Yes. You know what we’re up against, Odeon. You met Le Roi. Also, what do I care about the painting? It’s an issue between two Centaus. Both want a painting, claiming it’s rightfully theirs. I’m not a judge, deciding who gets the painting.”

  Ahead of them, a portly human male in a guard uniform rounded the corner. His expression went from boredom to shock. “Hey!” He drew up short, startled into freezing. Then he broke into a run toward them.

  Holly skidded to a stop. “New plan! Run the other way.”

  Her feet slipped under her as she tried to change directions.

  Charly and Odeon followed suit, attempting to redirect their momentum.