Outlaw Rising: Parse Galaxy, #0

By Kate Sheeran Swed

Secretly, Sloane Tarnish has always admired her outlaw of an uncle and his tales of not-so-legal adventures across the galaxy–but she never thought she'd be asked to help with one of his heists. 

 

When Uncle Vin shows up on her med school campus with a plan to steal a chip full of Fleet intelligence–and the baffling idea to have her play a key role in the scheme–Sloane's got her doubts. Uncle Vin doesn't seem to realize that her top skills involve the kind of shots you drink, not the ones you fire. 

 

But Vin's convinced the Fleet's got plans to install empirical rule across the free galaxy, and that this data could stop them before they can begin. When a bunch of rogue delivery drones start taking shots at her–and not the liquid kind–she has to figure he's onto something. 

 

To prove it, all she needs to do is steal the data key from the middle of a Fleet ball… and right out from under the Commander's nose. 

 

Too bad she's got absolutely no idea what she's doing… 

 

Outlaw Rising is the prequel novella to the Parse Galaxy space opera adventure series.  

• Language: English
• Publisher: Spells & Spaceships Press
• Release date: Mar 21, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201357849

Kate Sheeran Swed

Kate Sheeran Swed loves hot chocolate, plastic dinosaurs, and airplane tickets. She has trekked along the Inca Trail to Macchu Picchu, hiked on the Mýrdalsjökull glacier in Iceland, and climbed the ruins of Masada to watch the sunrise over the Dead Sea. After growing up in New Hampshire, she completed degrees in music at the University of Maine and Ithaca College, then moved to New York City. She currently lives in New York’s capital region with her husband and son, and two cats who were named after movie dogs (Benji and Beethoven). Her stories have appeared or are forthcoming in the Young Explorer’s Adventure Guide Volume 5, Electric Spec, Daily Science Fiction, and Andromeda Spaceways. She holds an MFA in Fiction from Pacific University. You can find her on Instagram @katesheeranswed.

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

Following spies was a new gig for Vin, but he was pretty sure they didn’t usually make pit stops. And they definitely didn’t make them at Ve Station.

Nonetheless, Vin found himself tailing a Fleet spy through gem-encrusted corridors, trying his best to ignore the way people’s eyes widened at the sight of his clothing. Which was perfectly clean, even if it wasn’t custom made or embroidered with real gold.

Maybe he had a crease or two in his boots—they weren’t even torn yet—and maybe the cuff of his shirt showed early signs of fraying. But he looked respectable enough to keep the station’s security off his back, which should have been enough to satisfy the upturned noses of the snobs who lived here.

Who could say what motivated the ultra-rich psychology? He’d call his brother and ask for some insights from the other side, but was pretty sure even Zander’s wallet would fail to impress on Ve.

Which begged the question of why a Fleet spy would be meandering through here, of all places. The man took a leisurely pace across the station’s network of flashy lacework bridges, even stopping occasionally to gaze down at one of the green parks that carpeted the floor below. What information could the spy possibly have to ferret out here, at the wealthiest station in Halorin System—which was located in the wealthiest sector of the galaxy?

Vin didn’t know. But he was here to find out. Sort of.

Vin suspected his employer would remind him that he was actually here to swipe the data the Fleet spy had collected: months of intelligence that would prove, once and for all, that the Fleet had been plotting to take over the galaxy. And was well on its way to succeeding.

But Vin also wanted to know what the spy was doing on Ve, and if his presence here meant that his operation was not yet complete. There was no use in stealing intelligence if it was missing key pieces of the puzzle.

The spy sauntered toward the largest of the bridges, lazily swinging his lanky arms and looking for all the world like he belonged here. The bridge itself looked as delicate as spun glass but was as strong as steel. The arc swept high enough for another pair of bridges to crisscross below it. No one passing on those bridges even needed to duck. And thank goodness, too. That would have messed up their hair.

The bridges were all blindingly silver, catching the light every time he took a step, and he couldn’t help wondering if that’s what they’d been plated in.

There was luxury, and then there was waste. Even his brother would agree with him on that.

Vin slipped beneath the bridges and onto the grass—he was almost surprised when it didn’t bite his foot to chase him back to the path—so he could watch the spy’s progress from below.

He only needed to get close enough to jam whatever cybernetic implants the spy was hiding—had to be hiding—so he could get past their security measures and duplicate the data. Without getting caught, of course. That was the key part.

Vin excelled at getting in and out of tough situations; his fees reflected that. Subterfuge, though? That was a bit trickier. That required a certain finesse, and Vin was more the crash-in, crash-out kind of retrieval specialist. He hadn’t been able to refuse this job though. Not with the freedom of the galaxy at stake.

The spy paused to purchase a bunch of flowers—even the blooms were bound with the sparkle of precious metals like gold and jaevin—from a vendor whose clothes were nicer than Vin’s. And then he continued on.

Even standing directly below the spy, Vin wasn’t close enough to jam the man’s mods. How that was possible, he couldn’t say. Maybe the silver somehow jammed the jammer. It seemed unlikely, though it might explain the spy’s dalliance here.

Vin sidled out from under the bridge, doing his best to stick to the sparse shadows as he followed the spy’s mop of reddish-brown hair down the ramp and onto a path that ran directly beside the park.

The spy passed behind a second flower cart… and didn’t reemerge.

Vin waited, frowning, wondering if there was some sort of hint in the flowers. Was the spy buying a bouquet from each vendor? Or waiting on a contact? Was he—

A hit from behind sent Vin sprawling face-first into the grass. Before he could even twitch, a boot landed on his lower back, pinning him down. He tried to twist, to break the hold, but a burst of electric current bit into his spine, going straight to the nerves and paralyzing his limbs. His teeth snapped together, muscles straining so hard it felt like they wanted to stretch until they snapped. Every muscle, all his muscles, his fingers trying to bend double as his back arched painfully.

He couldn’t stop it. He couldn’t even move.

He could breathe, thankfully. His lungs were still operational, and his heart was still beating—at least for the moment. The pain was nearly unbearable.

The spy bent down, his rusty red hair hanging free over his head and almost brushing the grass. He had a wide smile that would’ve looked pleasant if you didn’t know any better. Do you know why Ve Station is a good place to stop, friend? he asked.

Vin’s jaw was locked too tightly to allow an answer, his neck bent back. Any minute, it might snap right in half.

He hadn’t even landed a hit. The only thing he could think was that he needed to get a message off to his pilot, to tell her to run, but his frantic thoughts wouldn’t pull up his eye screen. Maybe the spy had fried his network access.

The spy winked, then flicked a finger under the almost-fraying cuff of Vin’s sleeve. If anyone’s trailing me, Ve Station makes it blatantly obvious.

And with that, he sauntered away, leaving Vin with his face in the grass, his muscles still contorting painfully. He tried to breathe air past his vocal cords, to call for help—hell, to grunt loudly enough for someone to notice him—but he couldn’t force out so much as a whimper.

He would die here, then, struck down in the shadow of a bridge that had probably cost as much to build as his entire home city.

As the thought passed through his mind, the electrical current stopped, ceasing so suddenly that Vin’s muscles went limp. He grunted in relief as his hands hit the grass. For a good long moment, all he could do was lie there and breathe slowly with his face in the grass. Interesting, that they used real soil here instead of easy-grow pads.

Another breath or two, then he forced himself onto his hands and knees.

He almost wept with relief when his limbs actually responded.

There was no time to question why the spy had chosen to leave him alive. This was a novice-level botch, a screw-up of the first order, and he needed to fix it.

Vin staggered to his feet, the taste of copper hot in his mouth, and lurched out from under the bridge, ignoring the gasps of the richly-clothed passersby. If he paused for even a second, he’d lose his breakfast on a pair of pointy shoes expensive enough to buy a mid-sized moon, and that would delay him for sure.

If he’d originally merited sidelong looks from the people on the station, he’d now graduated to full-on stares. His