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Traitor’s Code: Freelancer #1
An Obsidian Rim novel
Intrigue, adventure and love on the edge of the galaxy.
When a dying fugitive begs Cassy to protect a stolen code, she becomes custodian of a secret which could save humanity.
Cassy, a freelance spaceship captain, battles pirates and evades jail as she works to unravel the mystery of the code taken from the Fertillan royal family. Pursuing her, Prince Stephen of the Fertillan Guard delves deeper into her past and discovers someone protecting Cassy from behind the scenes.
Drawn closer together by the investigation, Cassy learns why the Fertillan royal family fears the secrets hidden inside the code and why the fugitive risked everything to steal it. Torn between her love for the prince and the promise of saving humanity, she must choose the dangerous path or betray her own conscience.
The first novel of the Freelancer trilogy is a page-turning space adventure with a twist of romance that fans of Farscape and Killjoys will love.
- PAGES: 264 (trade paper)
- RRP: £2.99/$3.99 (ebook) £9.99/$11.99 (paperback)
- PUBLICATION: June 2019
- ISBN: 9781908340269 (ebook) // 9781908340276 (paperback)
Read an excerpt below…
Excerpt from Traitor’s Code
I took my chance and leapt sideways for my weapon. One hand encircled the grip, the other unclipped it from the holster and I pulled out the handgun as I had rehearsed it in my head.
The pirate woman fired at something outside: the blast boomed down the corridor and her body jolted at the recoil.
I knew my weapon was not as powerful as hers, and if I was going to fire, I would have to make it count. If I only wounded her – or worse, went for a smaller target like her head and missed – she could return fire and I’d be dead.
I glanced around at Freddi. He pulled himself up on his haunches and scampered to hide behind the nearest console.
I stepped lightly and slowly sideways to where the larger captain’s console would provide better cover while also being closer to the target.
Gunfire echoed in the corridor. Not from her rifle, but from someone else’s EE weapon with a still powerful, but higher pitched blast. She pressed her back against the side wall.
I ducked down behind the console, but kept my gaze on the woman and my gun raised.
She edged backwards, with her gun ready at her hip.
An unseen, chillingly familiar voice spoke from the corridor. “You don’t want to shoot me,” he said. “I have a whole fleet of Fertillan Guard between here and any escape route you might try to take. You can take your chances with them, or you could lower your weapon and I can let you live.”
The owner of the voice stepped into the control room and I saw what I already knew: it was Trevel.
He wore an armoured suit in the same brown as his regular uniform and a helmet with the blast shield down. His unmistakable intense eyes stared out from behind the protective barrier as he aimed his military-grade EE rifle at her head.
The woman backed away, but didn’t let her gun drop even a millimetre. “How do I know if I can trust you?” she said.
An explosion shot from Trevel’s rifle and the woman’s body was thrown backwards as the blast ripped into her forehead. Bits of her brain sprayed out into the control room. Her body slammed hard on the floor followed by the rain of her own blood as the echo of the blast rang out around us. Trevel – his EEW still aimed at her – walked up to her corpse and prodded her lifeless stomach with the barrel to make sure she was dead.
“You can’t trust me,” he said.
I think I had made a sound when his gun went off. I had gasped – or maybe I screamed – I don’t remember. Whatever noise it was, it was enough for him to know I was there.
“You can come out now,” he declared to the room.
I stood up from behind the console with my hands above my head. I’m not ashamed to say I was shaking a little.
I was still holding my gun, but with an open palm and with my finger away from the trigger. I showed it to him as I made an exaggerated move of placing it on the floor and kicking it away.
“All of you can come out,” said Trevel.
Freddi emerged from the console behind me: his hands raised.
“Well,” he said, looking at the two of us. “Isn’t this unexpected.”