Catch a Falling Star

— Sample Chapters

Chapter 1. Robot Walk

They say the stars at the edge of the galaxy are where fortunes are made. And maybe that’s true. Or maybe that’s just what you tell yourself before you dock at a station like Solaris-Five.

It was dangerous even on a good day. Then came the distress call… followed by silence.

The Star Rangers hadn’t asked just anyone to investigate. No. This was a rescue mission that needed a legend—a legend like Nova Starsong. And if you knew anything, you knew that meant things were already bad.

Talia grinned. Her imagination had gotten away from her again—not that she minded. Nova Starsong always answered the call of duty. Who cared if she was really stalking the underground halls of Fenclave?

Nova guided her ship in by hand, executing a flawless manual docking sequence. That was the thing about Nova Starsong: nobody wondered whether she was good enough. They already knew.

Talia’s heart quickened as she passed through the bulkhead door. Her footsteps echoed through empty halls, accompanied only by the station’s groans and creaks.

“A lone figure in this silent theater of an unknown disaster. What will she find?” Talia’s inner narration slipped out as she clutched her trusty buzz-cannon, fully leaning into the voice in her head. “Well, they called the right woman.”

She slowed at the corner. A robot ahead.

That settled it. A robotic rebellion had seized the station. Once slaves to human ambition, the metallic minions had risen up and toppled their masters. Somewhere beneath that polished steel exterior pulsed unchecked rage.

Nova Starsong stepped around the corner, buzz-cannon raised, already certain how this would end.

The robot didn’t attack.

It kept mopping.

Nova kept her weapon ready, knowing that was how they fooled you. She debated whether to blast it to smithereens or take the time to reprogram it, when a human scream pierced the air.

Moonbeam came charging toward her, howling over his shoulder at his pursuer, “I’m not the young master! I’m not the young master!”

Hot on his tail, a shapely white nanny-bot held a blue Fenclave jumpsuit aloft, insisting, “The young master must be properly attired before being seen in public!”

At this point, Moonbeam stepped onto the freshly cleaned section of the floor.

Now, to best understand the subsequent events, it’s important to recognize that this particular service robot had been experimenting with improved cleaning agents during its time in Fenclave. The latest experiment involved an agent known as Compound 201, which it had found in the rocket repair bay.

Advertised as the slipperiest oil in the galaxy, Compound 201 promised to unstick anything. It was the ultimate and final lubricant anyone would ever need—that’s what the package said, so it must be true. The service robot wondered: perhaps it would also make it the perfect cleaning agent—after all, if nothing could stick to the surface, then surely that would reduce the frequency of cleaning cycles.

So it was with detached curiosity that the robot observed Moonbeam place his foot on the freshly “cleaned” section of the floor. He immediately lost traction, cascading through a series of splits and tumbles. And, despite his best efforts, he still ended up sliding face-first across the slick, well-lubricated surface.

The robot made notes on the efficiency of Compound 201.

Despite her rubber footpads, the nanny-bot chasing him met a similar fate. Helpless against Compound 201, she sprawled in a clattering crash, which secretly delighted the service robot.

Talia dropped her buzz-cannon and ran forward—but she didn’t slip. Nova would never. With the grace of a celestial dancer, she executed a calculated slide, gliding to a halt before the service robot. Before it could react, she quickly located its maintenance controls and powered it off.

Meanwhile, the nanny-bot had seized Moonbeam’s foot and now engaged in a tug-of-war as he struggled to crawl away—all the while it continued to insist he dress properly.

Talia approached the nanny-bot in slow, deliberate steps. She deactivated it in the same way, then crossed to the oil-free section of the floor and retrieved her buzz-cannon. Meanwhile, Moonbeam, unable to right himself, had inched forward like a worm. She helped him stand, fighting the flutter in her heart as she took his hand.

Brushing himself off, Moonbeam surveyed the scene, offering a grateful smile, “Thank you, ma’am. Not sure what got into that thing.”

Talia gave no response, because she was too busy studying Moonbeam’s well-fit shoulders, wondering: if she had met him before Ashe, would he be interested in her instead? Or… was that why he was here now? Had he come looking for her?

Moonbeam’s features clouded at her lack of response, and he rubbed the back of his neck and tried to act casual. “So, where…are we?”

“We’re near environmental,” Talia answered, pointing the way he’d come. “The central plaza is back that way.”

Moonbeam appeared on the verge of saying more. Talia hoped he wanted to engage in some flirty banter… Or, perhaps he had questions about Ashe? This was the moment she had hoped for, where she could fill him in on all the peculiar edges of her bestie.

Thinking of Ashe made Talia wonder about how well she was doing searching through Fenclave’s databases. Talia had offered to help research Ember’s whereabouts and interrogate the captured Ordyne soldiers. However, the first thing she had to do was mop up the remnants of the robot insurrection she had intentionally sparked. All so they could reclaim Fenclave.

“Okay, then,” Moonbeam said, pivoting and stepping back toward the slippery floor.

Talia grabbed Moonbeam’s jacket and yanked him back before he could repeat his earlier mistake. His arms spun as he struggled for balance, and he fell into her embrace. Their eyes met—his almond gaze locking with hers—before he flashed his trademark grin. “Why, hello there, you lovely goddess. You know, if you wanted me to stay, you just had to ask.”

This close to him, Talia couldn’t ignore his pleasant scent. He had clearly found cologne somewhere, and it sent her heart racing. But was that also a hint of cinnamon?

She set him upright, her fingers lingering on his upper arm. “Moonie, you don’t want to go that way; it’s all slippery, remember?”

He glanced at the floor and muttered, “I need to remember.”

Talia wrinkled her brow. “Are you okay? Did you take a hard fall?”

He puffed out his chest. “I’m good. Didn’t fall hard. Just did a little dance, you know?”

She lit up. “Do you like to dance? Like formal? Or a bop?”

Moonbeam considered the question far longer than she expected. “I don’t know. It might come to me, I suppose. Sometimes things do that.”

Talia tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. He was such a goofball. Their eyes locked, and an awkward moment stretched for a heartbeat, then a few more. She had to act. Had to seize the moment—

She extended her hand. “Let’s try. Maybe you’ll remember.”

Why did he hesitate?

“Maybe,” he said softly. Drawing close, he placed his hand on her hip, maintaining a respectful distance. That didn’t matter to Talia; she still felt a sizzle in the air between them—did he feel it too?

“Don’t we need music?” he asked.

Talia shrugged and took the lead, swaying in a slow dance to a silent beat. “No jukebox here, silly.”

They fell into a rhythm, moving together, and Talia pulled Moonbeam closer, until there was no space left between them. He relaxed and followed her lead. She could feel his heartbeat as they moved. Her eyes closed, and she allowed herself to be swept away in the moment.

Moonbeam was remarkably graceful as they continued to dance. Talia wondered what it would be like to dance with her own beau someday. Would he be an artist? A warrior? Or someone who simply reveled in the moment, like Moonbeam? And if things didn’t work out between Moonbeam and Ashe…could that person be him?

His words came softly. “You’re a good dancer, Talia.” He pulled back and locked eyes with her, the intensity sending an electric zing through her. For a moment, the world went quiet around them.

Was she reading too much into it? She was reading too much into it. Or maybe not?

That quirk to his smile, surely it was a promise? An unspoken invitation? This wasn’t how friends looked at each other, so it had to be. But were they both ready for it?

And what would Ashe think if she saw them like this? Talia forced herself to grin, not wanting to go too far. Still, she savored his compliment and added, “Well, my Kupuna Wahine used to say that dancing is like storytelling with your body.”

Moonbeam’s eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled. “Storytelling, neat. So who was that?”

Talia spun him. “She was my grandmother and a renowned performer. Knew all sorts of folk dances, plus many others from across the galaxy. She said each step in a dance is part of a story.”

He rolled with the dance move, then pulled her into a close embrace. “So what does this mean in the story?”

So close.

She tried to suppress the pull she felt. She tried really hard. But she just couldn’t ignore the heat between them.

But… this isn’t serious, right? She told herself, suddenly feeling guilty. Just some idle fun between friends… How Nova Starsong might handle this situation?

“Well, in this story,” Talia’s voice took on her radio drama tone. “It means two explorers, after vanquishing a robot uprising, find a moment to enjoy each other’s company in a dance both radiant and absurd amid the ruins of their civilization.”

He laughed. “So, we’re in a pulp romance novel?”

“Maybe,” Talia said quietly. “What do you think?”

Her gaze locked with his, and she guided him through a few more improvised steps while her emotions twirled. She couldn’t deny his pull. He was entertaining, intriguing, and a little enigmatic. The whole package left her fascinated, and… strangely uneasy. Why was he so odd at times?

His eyes looked into the distance. “You know,” he said. “Sometimes I feel like I’m dancing with shadows. There are times I forget things. Mostly names and faces, but—”

Talia’s heart skipped at his unusual vulnerability. He leaned in close, and her heart skipped a beat or three. Surely his movements carry a sense of desire. She wanted him closer still—close enough that she could feel his breath as he whispered into her ear.

She almost couldn’t hear him as he added. “I remember…”

Their bodies swayed, and Talia let herself be caught in the romance of it all. The walls seemed to fade, leaving only the two of them moving together.

“Somebody…somebody I think I need,” he continued. “She’s a fire burning bright. I wondered if it was you—”

Talia froze. They lingered in the embrace for a few heartbeats, and she counted each one as the ache in her chest sharpened. She knew—with painful clarity—whose fire Moonbeam yearned for, and it wasn’t hers.

Ashe’s voice shattered the moment. “What are you two doing?”

Talia jumped back from Moonbeam. “It’s not what you think! We weren’t—”

Ashe spun around, her steps staccato as she retreated.

For some reason, Jade lingered behind. He glanced between Moonbeam and Talia, brow furrowed.

“Ashe!” Talia called. “Stop! Let’s talk!”

But Ashe bolted around a corner. “Just leave me alone!”

Moonbeam’s gaze now carried a hint of sadness as he watched Ashe disappear down the hallway.

Talia groaned. Nova Starsong would have handled this far better than she had.