Chapter 1

The grand escape of Irina Eriadnus was not going well.

Perhaps she should have thought a bit more about her plan before attempting it, but when the perfect opportunity arose, it was too difficult to resist.

Besides, time had not been on her side.

Her stay of execution was up in an Earth standard month, and the Coalition was nothing if not punctual. Even if she had wanted to, she couldn't have waited any longer. This is what she kept telling herself as she made the drastic decision to enter the plasma storm, two shuttlejets hot on her tail .

Irina had first arrived on Oblivion Penal Satellite two Earth standard months ago. The Coalition had placed her there in anticipation of her upcoming execution, one that her lawyer had fought long and hard against, to no avail. She'd sat through the trial in utter resignation, knowing the galactic government would have their way in the end.

You didn't go against the Coalition and come out unscathed, no one did. Despite everything, a glimmer of hope remained lit, one that would not be extinguished so easily.

Three months was an unusually short time on death row, but it was more than enough for Irina to formulate a plan.

If she'd had access to a console, this all would have been much simpler. Her skill with computers was the reason she was here, after all, and hacking into the security system of the prison would have been a piece of cake. Still, she had other talents, had long ago learned there was more than one way to get what you wanted.

Bat your deep brown eyes at enough guards and eventually one is going to take a liking to you. Life on Oblivion was not easy, even for the sentries that supported themselves by keeping the prisoners in line. You try working for a six-month shift away from your family, friends, and lovers, and see if you didn't go a little stir crazy.

Brad had been an easy mark.

No partner, no kids, human, and wouldn't you know it, he was in charge of maintaining the shuttle bay along with his regular guard duties. What a helpful coincidence.

Irina twirled her raven locks—cropped at her chin—whenever she was around him, giving him her best sultry stare as he watched her mingling with the other prisoners.

When he cornered her in a dark hallway, right before lights out, Irina didn't resist as he grabbed her waist and kissed her. Brad pressed her against the cool metal wall, running his hands up and down her jumpsuit, his erection so obvious and frankly, disappointing. Nausea bubbled in her throat, the pathetic groping threatening to unlock long suppressed memories, but Irina allowed it, knowing her end goal was worth any temporary discomfort.

From there, it was easy, too easy , to get on bay cleaning duty.

All Irina had to do was tell Brad how much she wished she could see him more, if only there were a way. The cost of her dignity was a small price to pay for freedom. No, she didn't let Brad fuck her, no matter how much he wanted that, but, well, she did what she needed to do.

Brad wasn't a bad guy. An idiot? Yes. Desperate? Yes. But truly evil? No. She almost felt bad about what she did to him, certain he'd be fired from his guard post if not incarcerated himself.

Yes, she almost felt bad.

Maybe Irina would have been more inclined to guilt if it hadn't been for all the shady shit that was happening on Oblivion. Most nights she woke up in a panic, cold sweat dotting her brow and heart racing, sure she'd fallen to the same mysterious fate as so many other prisoners.

An Encun woman named Ruby, who she'd gotten quite close to, had disappeared in the middle of the night.

And she wasn't the only one.

Irina remembered searching every accessible area of the satellite for her friend when she hadn't seen her at breakfast one morning. They had taken to eating every meal together, and neither one of them had ever missed. Panic had gripped her chest, desperation growing as Ruby was nowhere to be found.

No one ever mentioned her again, as if fearing the same fate. As if some bogeyman came and snatched women during lights out.

She shuddered to think about what had become of Ruby, knowing full well the value of a species who could shapeshift at will.

At least two other prisoners had disappeared during Irina's brief stay on Oblivion, and that was just the people she happened to notice. This only bolstered her determination, not just for herself, but to figure out what had happened to Ruby and the others.

No, she didn't feel guilty about Brad. His involvement in whatever unscrupulousness was going on was implicit. Plus, she did what she had to do to survive. Had done so her entire life. And that was that.

An alarm beeped angrily, bringing Irina's attention back to the shuttlecraft. The shuttlecraft she was guiding towards an unpredictable plasma storm, solar wind already buffeting the small ship. Red and violet clouds glimmered menacingly through the viewscreen as despair threatened to overwhelm her, but she focused on her breathing exercises. She'd been in a lot of hopeless situations and had survived every last one of them.

This would be no different.

The shuttlecraft had been easy enough to commandeer. After a particularly exhausting encounter with Irina's talented tongue, Brad had fallen asleep on duty. She relieved him of his pass card and made for the shuttle bay. This was the chance she had been waiting for.

Irina had been absorbing any and all information regarding the Oblivion shuttles as she cleaned the bay each day. She had prodded Brad into giving her all sorts of details in the guise of frivolous curiosity.

"Oh, Brad, that is so interesting. Tell me more."

Being a tech wizard certainly helped. No, Irina had never piloted a shuttlecraft, but honestly, with what she could do with a console and a prayer, this couldn't be much more challenging. She had scanned into the bay, and made for the shuttle she was most familiar with, the Cyclone , a small, but efficient craft.

Another scan of Brad's pass and she was in, taking a seat on the cushioned chair in front of the pilot's interface. Irina's heart had raced, though the trouble she'd get in for stealing the shuttle meant nothing when her execution was fast approaching .

The initializing sequence was simple enough, if not a bit jarring.

There was a strange sensation as she donned the gilded shield, her mind linking into the ship's neural network for the first time. A shiver of electricity coursed through her body, close to overwhelming her as the nanobots bridged the final synapse.

A gentle hum buzzed at the edge of Irina's consciousness and she could see why pilots spent months in training. She tried to breathe, tried to focus, no time to adjust to the neural link with the clock ticking.

Irina felt a jolt as the bay pressurized, the door opening into the great expanse of space. She input coordinates for Athea, a city on Bora S9 known for helping people disappear… if you had the funds.

Everything had been going well until Irina's sensors picked up two shuttlejets in pursuit. Not good .

She had pushed aside her emotions—the fear bubbling in her chest—and focused on the task at hand. The estimated time of rendezvous was five minutes and thirty-seven seconds, and there was nowhere for her to hide. Well, nowhere except for a plasma storm, which was just up ahead. At max power, she could reach it in two minutes and fifteen seconds.

A terrible idea, but what choice did Irina have? At least if she died, it would be on her own terms. She had adjusted her course settings and made a beeline for the storm, hoping that the shuttlejets wouldn't follow .

They didn't, though that mattered little as the plasma storm battered her shuttle like a leaf caught in a tornado.

Blinking warning lights bathed the cockpit in an eerie red glow, alarms continuing to scream at her for daring to enter the storm.

A soft chime rang out, followed by a computerized voice.

" NAVIGATION OFFLINE ."

Fuck. A frown creased her brow, though nav wouldn't matter much unless she survived this storm first.

A glowing button tempted Irina, the interstellar communicator that would send a distress signal to any nearby Coalition ships, her finger hovering over the control.

No. She'd made her choice. Escape was the only option.

Escape or death.

Any ability to call for help was stolen a moment later when another chime rang out.

" COMMUNICATIONS OFFLINE ."

One by one, the high currents shut her systems down, her head aching at the beating it was taking between the jolting of the solar winds and the dysfunctional neural interface whose hum had turned to a screech in her ear.

When she finally escaped the storm, she had a raging headache and no way to pilot the shuttle.

Irina's stomach twisted in knots, sweat beading her forehead as she fought the controls .

Another month on Oblivion suddenly felt preferable to dying in a fiery crash, but she was helpless as the shuttlecraft changed course, drawn towards the gravity of a nearby planet. Irina had made her choice, and yet again, it had been the wrong one.

With systems down, she had no way of knowing whether the planet was habitable, though she supposed the large swathes of blue were a good sign. If that was water, then maybe the atmosphere would have oxygen, just maybe she'd be able to breathe.

That is, if she survived the crash landing.

Pressure gripped Irina's chest and spine as the Cyclone broke through the atmosphere, the shuttlecraft jostling violently. She clutched the straps around her chest, as futile as they were in the event of a landing like this.

Tears burned Irina's eyes, though her reality was as clear as crystal. She would die alone, never knowing what happened to Ruby and the other prisoners, never making the Coalition pay for what they had done. Panic clawed at her chest, her breaths coming in short gasps, all attempts to remain calm long forgotten.

Her vision grayed, then was completely gone, her head spinning with vertigo. With a final breath, Irina blacked out, the impact of the crash just seconds away .

Irina's eyes fluttered open. Her head ached like the hangover after a night of shooting Anzu brandy, and she couldn't seem to focus on anything.

The shield. She removed the gilded interface, though it did little to aid her vision.

As she came to, she realized that smoke filled the small room. Smoke? Where was she? This wasn't her prison cell, was it?

Irina tried to shift her body, but was immediately thwarted as pain shot through her extremities.

When her eyes finally focused, she saw her left arm jutting out at an unnatural angle, a bone piercing through her dark jumpsuit.

"Fuck," Irina moaned, as throbbing pain radiated from the break.

The state of her other limbs wasn't much better; she could just barely move her right arm and her legs were pinned under a piece of metal.

A piece of metal that belonged to the shuttlecraft, a gaping hole in the hull letting sunlight stream in. The crash came back to her, the utter terror as she plummeted towards the surface of this unknown planet.

But she was still alive and breathing, if barely.

Irina's head pounded, and she let out a hacking cough as smoke filled her lungs. She needed to get out of here. There must be a fire somewhere, and who knows how long she'd been unconscious, breathing in black smoke .

Irina attempted to move her legs, but between the weight of the hull and the shooting pain in her arm, her effort did not last long.

Tears rolled down her face, leaving trails along soot-covered cheeks. This was it. The culmination of her life had come down to this moment. All the good she had tried to do and here she was, a criminal, an escaped convict dying in a stolen shuttle.

She closed her eyes, hoping her death would be quick as the whoosh of flames curled towards her. Heat flared near her legs, not yet unbearable, but getting warmer as the seconds ticked by.

This was her reward for trying to speak the truth.

A creak of metal caused Irina to flutter her eyes open once more, though as she glanced around the small space, the thick smoke obscured her vision. She coughed again; the hacking sending shooting pain through her left arm as she tried to see through the smog.

A dark shadow loomed over her, and suddenly she was weightless, floating through the air. Irina blinked her eyes shut, unable to hold on to consciousness much longer.

What was that noise? Something was cooing at her, but sleep took her before she could even wonder what it was.