Excerpt

As Sparks approached the bar, her heart rate quickened, and despite filling her lungs with the cool spaceport air, it did little to dampen her apprehension. Were it just a game of droneball, she'd enter the place with a spring in her step and a sway to her gait. She could beat anyone, any day, any time. But, like with so many things in life, managing the egos of others provided the biggest challenge. Especially as she was about to play a game she couldn't lose.

Every week the same; she began yet another bullshit hustle where she needed to make her opponent feel good about themselves while she deprived them of just enough credits to get her and Reyes through another few days. Reyes would do the same for her were the roles reversed. But she'd probably do it without the deceit.

Sweating beneath her thick black robe, Sparks faced the oncoming wind, turning the hood into a cooling funnel. One day she'd find a lighter replacement. Something more practical. But so far, none did the job as well. None hid the tiny human from inquisitive eyes. At least, that was what they believed her to be. She stood about three and a half feet tall. Tall for a Thrystian, but so few beings had heard of her species, so they made assumptions. Assumptions that often led to hostilities. Easier to remain inconspicuous to avoid the conversation altogether.

Her face hidden in shadow, she drew close to Mac's bar, and a flutter ran through her chest. The door sensor triggered and opened with a whoosh!

While beings probably watched from the shadows, the clusters of creatures in the packed bar paid her little mind. Sticking in your nose, snout, hooter, or whatever other protrusion with which you chose to invade another's privacy, rarely ended well. Especially in Acoolter, where its spaceport drove its economy. With such a high turnover of clients, it made almost every being a stranger in every establishment. None had any right knowing Sparks' intentions, just as she had no right knowing theirs. But just in case her attire didn't convey the message to leave her the fuck alone, she rested her hand on her blaster at her hip. An entirely acceptable response to unsolicited inquisition. This place had clear rules and clear consequences. Stick to the former and you'd avoid the latter.

The door closed behind her as she weaved through the busy room, collusions of creatures packed around small tables and wedged into shadowy booths. She kept her attention fixed on the droneball kiosk in the corner.

She held her breath as she passed through a thick cloud of raspberry-scented smoke loosed from the hinge-jawed mouth of a bulbous toad-like being. The last time she breathed in something similar, she'd spent three days in a multicoloured world, running away from demons that had crawled from deep within the bowels of her own imagination.

The long bar ran the length of the room on her left. Mac ignored her. Nosey bartenders didn't last long in a place like this. Besides, she always made sure a part of her winnings ended up in his pocket. This place had supported her and Reyes for close to a year. A little kickback was the least she could do.

Passing beneath a flickering lightbulb, Sparks' right eye twitched, and her brain speared with a sharp sting. The bulb didn't have long left in this world. Not her responsibility. In a galaxy that cared little for sentient life, it needed a digital advocate about as much as it needed another crazy dictator invading a distant planet.

Several beings pressed their snouts to the droneball booth's tinted window, their hands cupping their faces. Every one of them oblivious to Sparks' approach. And why would they notice her? She might be the best droneball player in the galaxy, but the galaxy didn't need to know that.

A four-foot-tall yellow-skinned creature stepped back from the booth and punched the air. As with most interactions, her lips moved with an alien dialect while Sparks' language chip interpreted on the fly. "Yes!" She halted in the face of Sparks' scrutiny. A head taller than her, she had a long snout, tusks, and a bulbous bottom lip that lay along her face like a giant space slug, warts and all. She looked her up and down.

Sparks smiled, the gesture hidden in the shadow cast by her hood. Hopefully, some of it made it to her tone. "Did your friend win?"

"What do you think?"

"How good are they?"

"He just won, didn't he?"

"Apparently so."

The yellow-skinned creature stepped back. Again, she looked Sparks up and down. This time she sneered, lifting one of her tusks higher than the other. "You really want to challenge him?"

The game booth's door slid open, the machine's automation tingling through Sparks' senses. The action emitted a gentle whir of tiny servos. They had nothing on the earth-shuddering action of the ones used to drive Reyes' towering mech, but they were the closest she'd heard to them in a long time. Reyes would beat the simulator and regain her confidence. And then Sparks could stand beside her twenty-metre-tall titan in battle once again. She could stop lowering herself to playing small-time games in dive bars for only enough reward to get them through another week. She'd had a year of this shit. Were she doing it for anyone else, she would have given up a long time ago.

"You deaf or something?" The yellow-skinned creature rested her hands on her hips and stepped closer. "I said, do you really want to chall—"

"I heard what you said, runt."

She snorted, her indignation cut short by the defeated mandulu stepping from the booth with his shoulders slumped and his head bowed.

Sparks jumped aside to let him pass. With so many beings coming through the spaceport, she recognised maybe one in every twenty. She'd seen enough mandulus to last a lifetime. Still, she smiled. Seb would be happy to see one defeated. She'd tell him if she ever saw him and SA again.

The yellow-skinned being drew a breath. "Ar—"

"Yes!"

She snorted again. "B—"

"I do really want to challenge him."

The victor stepped from the game booth. Just short of six feet tall, he had blue skin and small yellow eyes. Every time he blinked, his eyelids met in the middle as vertical slits. Hairless, but his bald head had tens of tiny fins running from his brow to the base of his neck. She'd seen others like him before. Bipedal, and if she were to guess, she'd assume he came from an aquatic planet. But she'd been mistaken for human so often, she'd do well to ignore her assumptions. His upper body a bulging bulk of swollen muscles. "I'm guessing every day's biceps day?"

One side of his thin mouth twitched, and his tiny eyes narrowed. He remained fixed on Sparks while he slammed his fist against the button to open the small holding box. He removed two credit cards. His stake, and the one of his defeated opponent. He snapped his head in the booth's direction. "You want a game?"

"Are you confident that what you can offer me will be good enough to be classed as a game?"

He fixed her with a dead stare. "Rather than concentrating on my self-belief, maybe you should work on reining in your own?"

"Maybe."

"How much do you want to stake, little one?"

Say that again and she'd headbutt him in the stomach. "How much have you got there?"

The blue-skinned creature held up his two credit cards and winked. "One-fifty."

Just about enough. Like most droneball games in a place like this, her winnings would get her through another week and rarely longer. One hundred credits to Reyes, forty to Faz Went and Blark Venn-Quarter, and ten to Mac. The other one hundred and fifty for another game next week. She'd be back to dance the same routine with a different schmuck in seven days' time. But Reyes deserved it, and for however long it took her to get her head straight, Sparks would keep showing up. Reyes had earned all the time in the galaxy. She tossed a credit card loaded with one hundred and fifty credits at the blue-skinned creature. It spun through the air, struck him on his broad chest, and landed on the floor between his feet. "I can match that."

The slightest ripple of doubt disturbed his fixed arrogance. He picked up Sparks' credit card and held it with his close to the holding box. "O-okay."

"O-okay, or okay? You changing your mind already, big guy?"

He dropped the credit cards into the box and slammed the small hatch shut. Only the victor could reopen it. His thin lips pulled back to reveal his gritted teeth. "You first."

On her way past him into the small chamber, Sparks nodded. "That's usually how it works." She moved to the left side of the court and pulled back her hood. A neon line bisected the room. It divided the five-metre-by-five-metre-square booth in two. Cross the line into your opponent's side and you lost a point. Aim your blaster at your opponent and you lost the game, as well as getting electrocuted half to death before you could pull the trigger. She widened her stance, the door closing behind them as her competitor took up his position.

Her blaster raised above her head, Sparks waited for her opponent to do the same. She'd go easy on him. When she'd first played droneball, she used to get to three points as quickly as possible, take the credits, and leave. But large egos and resounding losses proved a volatile mix. She walked away with less aggro if her opponents had felt like they'd at least played their part in the game. She gave them a narrative about how they'd been robbed in the final moments. And as far as fragile egos went, this blue-skinned fella wore his paper-thin sense of self-worth loud and proud on his overstretched sleeve. His blaster still at his side, she tutted and snapped up her shoulders in a sharp shrug. "You ready, or what?"

"Hang on." The fin-headed creature twisted his left foot and then his right, as if grinding the soles of his shoes against the steel floor would somehow help him improve his aim. He paused halfway through raising his blaster. "And don't worry, I'll let you go for double or quits when you lose."

The second he thrust his blaster at the sky, a strong wind ripped through the booth. The walls turned pitch black, and stars burst to life all around them. A drumbeat rolled through the room like distant thunder. As the hammering rhythm grew louder, the stars streaked towards them, accelerating with the increasing volume. The wind dragged Sparks' robe, pulling her back a step. The beast beside her held firm.

A small spherical drone shot from their left. The size of a large orange and topped with a blinking red light, it hovered for a second, sent an electric bolt streaking towards Sparks from one of its many ports, and darted right to avoid her opponent's first shot.

She could have nailed it instantly. The steel plate in her head read the drone's next move and transmitted it directly to her brain. The accident that nearly killed her had left her with digital intuition. Machines spoke to her. From opening doors to blinking lightbulbs. Mechs. Surveillance drones … But his ego needed appeasing. She jumped aside, avoiding the drone's next electric bolt. She shot high, and it went low.

"Not so confident now, eh?"

Sparks dodged another blue bolt. For effect, she blew out, her cheeks bulging.

He shot again. He missed again.

"Like you're doing much better." Sparks' green blasts exploded against the far wall.

A loud mechanical duck quack blared through the booth. The wind stopped, and the thunderous drum solo faded. The smoking drone hit the floor with a clang! The bright white stars gave way to bright white numbers. A zero on Sparks' side. A number one on his.

He rolled his shoulders and snapped his head from side to side. "I do believe I've taken the advantage."

"It's the first to three, you know?"

"You think I'm green?"

"No, you're blue."

He tutted and shook his head.

Sparks raised her blaster.

He did the same.

For a second time, the wind shoved Sparks back a step. The stars streaked past her, driven by the slamming drum solo. The drone shot from the left. She aimed where it intended to go next and pulled her trigger.

The loud duck-quack tone blared through the booth. The drone hit the floor. The wind halted. The stars vanished. Sparks read out the bright white numbers. "One-one."

The blue-skinned creature raised his blaster. Sparks did the same.

Even with her glasses on, Sparks' eyes burned from the windy assault. She dodged left and right, avoiding the electric bolts.

Quack!

The drone fell. The blue-skinned creature rolled his broad shoulders. His signature move. "I make that two-one to me."

"You can read, then?" Sparks aimed at the sky.

He'd taken at least eight shots to hit the previous two drones. And of course she played a risky game, but she needed to win without gaining a reputation. Reyes wanted a quiet life.

Sparks missed the small sphere with her first three shots. Her blasts exploded against the back wall. She nailed the drone with her fourth.

Quack!

His face a contorted mess, he threw up his arm again. Sparks did the same.

Bzzt!

"Ow!" A bolt hit his right hand, turning it flaccid. He dropped his blaster.

The drone about to head diagonally up to the right. Sparks shot it from the sky.

Quack!

The drone hit the floor just as her opponent retrieved his weapon. His mouth fell wide, and a nerve beneath his right eye twitched. The booth's door opened with a whoosh!

"Doub—"

"I'm not interested." Sparks barged past him, pulled up her hood, and slammed her fist against the holding box button. The small hatch fell open. She reached in and retrieved the three credit cards.

A flash of white light burst through Sparks' vision when her forehead slammed into the booth. Her legs failed her. By the time she'd clambered back to her feet, he'd already taken her credits and run.

Sparks aimed her blaster at his broad back.

"No!" Mac the bartender thrust a halting hand in her direction.

Her teeth clenched, Sparks turned her blaster on his tusked mate. The small yellow-skinned creature raised her hands. She'd done nothing wrong, and they both knew it. Blark Venn-Quarter didn't believe in guilty by association. This tourist still had his full protection.

"Shit!" Sparks shook her head and took off after the thief, weaving through the tables and clusters of creatures. She'd given him a game. Made him feel like he had a chance. Yet he still did this to her. She'd given him every opportunity to save face, but now he'd stolen from her, she had every right to subject him to a very public execution.