Page 1 of Mistletoe

Prologue

Hal

Colony ShipEndeavor

Earth

Nepotism wasn’t all bad,not when it got Hal a coveted spot on the colony ship. Sure, his brother was the brains and the real reason he had tickets. That was fine. Hal could admit that he was just the brawn and riding his brother’s coattails. Ethan was the one with the skills the colony wanted. Hal glowered at people and low-key menaced them by standing around like a slab of muscle with a bad attitude.

Still, a ride off an overcrowded, over-polluted Earth and a chance for a new life on another planet? Shit, he’d ride Ethan’s coattails all the way to the stars.

The colony project must have wanted Ethan real bad, too; the powers that be overlooked Hal’s conviction. It’s not like he had “convicted felon” tattooed on his forehead. You wouldn’t look at Hal and know he’d done time for assault.

Well, you might. Anyway, all that was in the past. It’s not like he didn’t work for his spot. He worked. Hard. Slab of Muscle wasn’t his official title, but it might as well have been, even if his badge said Ship Security. He kept things running smoothly while the passengers boarded, which mostly meant standing around and scowling to keep the lines moving. Mostly.

Passengers fell into four categories: crew, staff, general ticket holders, and first-class. Crew would cycle through shifts of deep sleep and wakefulness to keep the ship running during the century-long journey. A decade of work in exchange for a spot on the new planet.

Staff—medical, engineers, agriculture, and even slabs of muscle like Hal—would wake about a year or so before the end of their journey to start preparing for their new life.

General ticketholders bought their place on the ship and slept in a cryo chamber for the journey, oblivious to the trials and hardships, and would wake on a new world. A settler’s life wasn’t easy, but they’d have a decent shot at making something better than what they left behind on Earth.

First-class, though, they bought the complete luxury experience. They also slept the entire journey and would wake not only on a new world but with premium housing, a large plot of land, more resources, and a seat on the advisory council.

Rich bastards.

One such rich bastard was holding up the orientation process.

“I only wear organic cotton. I can’t wear this, you understand.” The woman held the offending shroud in one hand, waving it about dramatically.

Hal didn’t catch the entire conversation, but Ethan looked relieved when he arrived. “Finally,” his brother said.

“What’s the issue?”

“This passenger refuses to wear the shroud. I’ve explained quite clearly that if she does not comply, she will be removed. Please remove her.” Ethan turned his attention away from the irate passenger to his tablet. “I do not have time for this. I must process the other patients.”

“I paid good money for my ticket. You can’t kick me off. I’m Sarah Folgers, and I’m a personal friend of Captain Beckford,” the woman said, her tone frustrated.

Hal understood that. He loved his brother, but Ethan was… frosty at the best of times. It was his technical skills that got him a spot on the colony ship, not his bedside manner.

“You heard the doc,” Hal said. “Wear the shroud or get off the ship.”

“Why can’t I wear my own?” She gestured to the gray tunic she wore. “My skin is sensitive. I’ll break out in hives.”

Ethan pinched the bridge of his nose. “The shroud is a medical device that will monitor your vitals while you are in the cryo chamber. If there is a problem with the dosage or the machine, no one will know, and you will die. Frankly, I’m not impressed with your lack of self-preservation.”

“Probably some annoying paperwork to file if a passenger dies,” Hal added.

“Yes, but why should they care about being an annoyance in the future when they are clearly an annoyance now? Remove her,” Ethan said, dismissing the passenger with a wave of his hand.

“Right, let’s do this the easy way. Come along.” Hal reached for the woman’s wrist. She pulled back, slapping his hand away.

Apparently, they were doing it the hard way.

Hal grabbed the woman by the arm, no longer caring to be gentle. He was twice her size, and he’d use that to force compliance.

“Don’t you know who I am?” The woman fought against his grip.

“Sarah Folgers, you said.” He recognized the name, of course. Anyone would. “Do not struggle. You will bruise yourself.”

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