Extract: Galaxy Grifter, by Alla Zaykova

Only the wittiest, smarmiest, most sycophantic person in the galaxy can grift like Levi can. Levi is an interstellar con artist: all charm, no conscience. His only real love is his spaceship, Caerus—his symbol of status and freedom—which he is forced to surrender as loan collateral to the most dangerous gang in his current quadrant. Desperate to get his ship back by any means necessary, Levi swindles a valuable antimatter-tech blueprint from an alien diplomat, which he plans to sell for millions of credits to the highest bidder.

Extract from Galaxy Grifter by Alla Zaykova, kindly published with permission from Orbit Books, 2025, RRP $37.99.

The Jaemlen explorer ship resembled a great pregnant shark, menacing points jutting out from the sides and a bulging center. After the first pirate rockets hit its shields, the center opened, birthing two small fighter frigates, which countered with vengeance, rattling the huge pirate galleon like an earthquake. It made Levi’s teeth clatter. Locked in the Vulture’s common room, with only Ren for company, Levi tugged on his tattered seat belts.

“Is Wendigo planning to do something about the shooting?” His voice rang with annoyance over the barrage. If it were him and Caerus, he’d have easily swerved from the line of fire, even though the freighter had no weapons.

“Watch.” Ren nodded at a screen on the opposite wall, where the live footage of the battle unfolded like a bad movie.

The pirates seemed to ignore the frigates, treating them like pesky flies and instead firing ceaselessly at the large explorer, denying it the chance to jump into hyperspace. A white flash illuminated the room as a laser beam aimed at the big ship pierced one of the frigates, and it burst into flames. Before Levi had time to wonder where the shot came from, a third, older-looking fighter came into view, probably released from the Vulture’s cargo hold.

The shaking stopped. The fire on the explorer continued. The remaining tiny frigate circled fruitlessly, trying to do any real damage to the Vulture. One precise shot from the Vulture later, the last Jaemlen fighter sang its fiery swan song.

Wendigo continued to shell the explorer as her voice boomed over the intercom. “Prepare for boarding.”

The pirates, including Ren, flooded into the cargo hold.

Relieved, Levi headed in the opposite direction, down a long corridor partitioned by open hatches, which sealed off sections of the ship in cases of hull integrity breaches. Discoloration along the seams of the unfaced metal bulkheads hinted at where the Vulture had been patched up. Voices and thumps echoed from the hold below.

The books Levi had read as a kid painted piracy as an exciting career option. In practice, he felt walking these corridors day after day would be as tedious as any office job. His own career offered much more variety. He liked his interstellar Ponzi schemes, the art of selling junk as priceless artifacts, and coaxing vendors into questionable freight contracts before disappearing with their goods. On Caerus, he was the captain and they made their own rules, unbridled by the suffocating constraints of power hierarchies, legal systems, and arbitrary moral codes designed to quell individuality. As free as the stars reflected in Caerus’s glossy black hull. But after a decade on the fun side of the law, he was back to square one: no ship, no money, and Wendigo still hadn’t paid him for the intel.

He reached the captain’s cabin and tried the door. Locked, most likely magnetically. So were the cabins of those next in command. He continued into the common dormitory, which smelled of unwashed bodies, with chests of drawers bolted to the floor next to the narrow bunks. Breathing into his sleeve, he knelt by the nearest one. It had been locked with an old-fashioned key and only took a minute to pick.

Inside, he found several changes of worn-out clothing, a virtEgo with a cracked screen, earpieces with traces of wax, and a pack of condoms. At least the pirates were being safe. He shut the drawers and tried the next chest. There had to be something he could score out of this joyride.

Five attempts later, and none the richer, he heard voices down the corridor. He left the dormitory and turned the corner, looking over his shoulder to ensure nobody saw him.

Two large men walked in the direction of the lavatory with their backs to him. Their easy gaits suggested the raid had been a success.

“It’s done then?” Levi asked.

They turned to face him. The taller one had a beard. The shorter one was bald and clean-shaven.

“We’re towing the explorer, the hostages are in our hold,” said the one with the beard.

Levi propped his elbow on a bulkhead. “What were they carrying?”

“They’re being questioned.” The bearded man proceeded into the lav, followed by his silent shipmate.

Satisfied that his intel proved accurate, Levi headed toward the stairs. Now was the perfect time to see the captain.

He’d climbed two steps toward the bridge when a pained scream echoed from below. He stopped, fighting the urge to look. The urge won, and he descended one level.

The cargo hold was the size of a sports field. Containers, machinery, and tarped mounds lined its perimeter. Pirates herded four Jaemlen hostages with bound wrists into a cage. A green Sehen, with muscular arms ending in four-fingered hands, and a three-meter-long serpentine lower body, coiled around the fifth hostage, rendering him immobile. The reptilians were known for bad tempers, and Wendigo was the only Human captain Levi knew of who had one in her service. The Jaemlen’s eyes were shut and blood dripped from his mouth. Navegante and another Human stood with their backs to the stairs.

“He better not be dead.” Navegante poked the Jaemlen’s face, but his head hung limp.

“I can feel a pulssse.” The Sehen flicked his forked tongue.

“Try another one. We’ll get them talking eventually.”

The Sehen threw the unconscious hostage into the cage and dragged out his second screaming victim.

Savages. Levi turned to leave. Perhaps he ought to have felt remorse, but he was merely an informant and wasn’t even supposed to be here.

Navegante called after him. “What the fuck do you want, Weasel?”

“Nothing.”

“Then get the fuck out, before I get you to scrub the piss off the floor.”

Thankless savages. *

Galaxy Grifter (Orbit Books) is available in bookstores now.