Local Star Aimee Ogden (the lemonade war series txt) 📖

Praise for Local Star

“Local Star is a heartfelt, heartwarming polyam romance driven by mystery, intrigue, and action, whose grease-stained main character works to repair more than just ships. Ogden assembles a universe of complex people and problems, then drills down to a story about love, family, self-acceptance, and forgiveness.”

—Valerie Valdes, author of Chilling Effect

“A smart, witty exploration of what it means to be a family, Local Star combines the thoughtful humanism of A Closed and Common Orbit with a delightfully quirky setting reminiscent of the best works of Bruce Sterling.

For years now, members of the SFF community have known that Aimee Ogden is a writer who can be counted on to deliver insightful stories packed with beautiful, flowing prose. The day after this book is published, everyone will know.”

—Robyn Bennis, author of The Guns Above

“I pick up everything I see with Ogden's name on it and I am never disappointed! Local Star sits in that lovely intersection of the personal and the operatic, hinting at intergalactic-level conflict while remaining deeply wedded to the life and loves of its heroine—a former guttergirl-turned-ship-mechanic who doesn't meet a problem she can't barrel through. Sweet and romantic. Highly recommended!”

Samantha Mills, short fiction author

"In navigating familial ties amidst a backdrop of war, Triz carves out a space in a queer community that, despite its far-flung location, rings familiar and true. A dazzling tale of interstellar intrigue, Local Star is beautiful contemplation on what it means to be a family."

Suzanne Walker, , co-creator of the Hugo-nominated graphic novel Mooncakes with artist Wendy Xu

Also by Aimee Ogden

Sun-Daughters, Sea Daughters (2021) from Tor.com

"A Song for the Leadwood Tree" in Beneath Ceaseless Skies

"His Heart is the Haunted House" in Apparition Lit

"Seb Dreams of Reincarnation" in Escape Pod

"Shelter, Sustenance, Self" in Fireside

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously.

LOCAL STAR

Copyright © 2020 by Aimee Ogden.

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author and publisher, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Cover illustration by Oleg Tsoy.

Edited by Holly Lyn Walrath.

Published by Interstellar Flight Press, Houston, Texas.

www.interstellarflightpress.com

ISBN (eBook): 978-1-953736-00-0

ISBN (Paperback): 978-1-953736-02-4

First Edition: 2021

Local Star

Aimee Ogden

Interstellar Flight Press

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Glossary

Acknowledgments

About the Author

About the Cover Artist

Interstellar Flight Press

New Releases from Interstellar Flight Press

Chapter One

Normally, there was nowhere Triz Cierrond would rather be than elbows-deep in a starfighter. But twenty levels above her, the Hab’s main Arcade was crammed with people celebrating the victorious return of the Confederated Fleet. For once in her life, the station wrenchworks were the last place she wanted to be.

And Kalo was the last person she wanted to be stuck there with.

It was partly her fault for making him wait while she finished checking the other six light attack Swarmers. But if she had to be miserable, her ex might as well be too. Soon, soon, she’d be uphab celebrating with Casne and her quadparents. A small part of her knew she was hesitating over that too. Probably best to wait a few hours anyway, to give them some time to try being one big happy family. She still didn’t know how she fit into that equation.

Triz ducked under the left-hand engine pod of Kalo’s swarmer, noting an oozing coolant leak where the wing had partially sheared away from the fuselage. Scorch marks streaked the cockpit, and the nosecone was less of a cone now than an impact-flattened nub. She shook her head and recorded a note on the tablet: total wrench job. “Shitting stars,” she muttered, and pulled her facemask up over her nose and mouth. “How are you not dead after this?”

“I apologize on behalf of the Cyberbionautic Alliance. I’m sure the Ceebees wish they’d finished the job almost as much as you do.” Kalo sprawled atop Triz’s eternally-in-progress refit of an Escoth V-27 engine assembly. The Escoth, as well as the pile of damaged ore-Scoopers hurriedly rearranged behind it, had been set aside for the sudden influx of paying work. Ships like Escoths were fast and sporty, great for fixing up and selling for a little credit. The Scoopers were scavenger crafts that filtered through the silt layers on the outside of asteroids, panning for something richer than iron oxide in that dust. Kalo didn’t seem to mind his precarious position. If the prospect of getting oil on his dress greens alarmed him, he didn’t show it. He didn’t look at her but combed one hand through wavy, dark hair. He needed a haircut.

Not that it mattered much how he looked. Once he escaped to the festivities uphab, he and anyone else in a Fleet uniform would be deluged by offers of drinks and dalliances tonight, and those with a Light Attack Swarm pin on their collar more than most. Greaseball mechanics just didn’t invite the same level of attention—especially the ones who’d grown up as guttergirls in a recycling engine, with the manners to match.

Casne would probably be just as beset with admirers as Kalo . . . but Triz knew her best friend and most significant of others wouldn’t be entertaining outside interest tonight. Some things were worth waiting for. Triz dragged her stylus across the screen of her tablet, scratching out her notes one slow stroke at a time. She glanced over at Kalo, who was fidgeting with one of his silver-ringed cuffs. Good. Let him be impatient.

“I was thinking,” said Kalo, and Triz’s stylus froze against the screen. There were a lot of things that could come after those three words, and she doubted any of them would improve the current situation. “The atmospheric handling hasn’t been great for me lately. The greaseheads over at Auzhni Hab got a little creative with the repairs after that little to-do outside