The crew of Another Road are back, closer than ever to the biggest score in the galaxy. . . if they can stay a step ahead of the Justice Department agents and Company men tracking them. An engineer with a fondness for weapons. A captain with no memory. An obsessive genemodder who loves to tinker. Meet the crew of Another Road. Josune, Roystan, and Nika have escaped the company thugs trying to kill them. They've gotten a new spaceship to replace The Road (after it was blown up underneath them). And their new ship is armed to the teeth with dangerous weapons, courtesy of Josune. All that's left to do before they head out to find the legendary lode of transurides is to restore Roystan's memory. To do that, they need to collect the genemod machine Nika has ordered. But first, they have to shake off the Justice Department agent and the Companies tracking them. It should be easy. They've done it before. What could possibly go wrong? Praise for  Stars Beyond "A vigorous sequel exploring the depths of space and human deceit…the vivid action and lovable characters keep the pages turning."-- Publishers Weekly Praise for Stars Uncharted "A fun adventure novel with an irresistible ragtag crew."-- The Washington Post "An absorbing space opera, in the tradition of  The Expanse  and  The Long Way to a Small, Angry Planet ."--Charles Stross, award-winning author of  The Delirium Brief "[A] brilliant female-driven tale...Readers of Asimov, Lois McMaster Bujold's Vorkosigan saga, or Anne McCaffey's Pern series will enjoy this story."-- Booklist  (starred review) "A fresh concept, cutting edge technology, and characters that pop! A must-read." -William C. Dietz,  New York Times  bestselling author of  Battle Hymn S. K. Dunstall is the national bestselling author of the Linesman series, including Linesman , Alliance , and Confluence . 1   Leonard Wickmore   It might have been coincidence-the chairman of Eaglehawk Company standing in the foyer of the Grande Hotel, watching the news vid on the three-floor-high screen-but Leonard Wickmore didn't believe in coincidences. Not when Chairman Keenan was as unlikely to frequent midlevel hotels like this as he was. Nor when they'd both just come from a board meeting where Keenan had told Wickmore, in the cold, nasal way that irritated Wickmore so much, "Ten of your own staff dead. Sloppy, Wickmore. Downright sloppy."   And every head around the boardroom table had nodded.   "Drawing attention to our company at a time when the Justice Department is cleaning itself up is bad form," Keenan had continued. "They already suspect Woden worked with us. Woden was your assassin. You lost control."   Tamati Woden had become a liability. Wickmore was glad he was gone. "The Justice Department is easy to take care of."   Keenan had fixed Wickmore with his cold, flat gaze. "Not as easy as it used to be, Wickmore. If you don't realize that, then maybe you're no longer fit to-" He'd broken off before he'd finished, because he wasn't stupid enough to cross Leonard Wickmore without the board a hundred percent behind him. Not even with ten of his elite staff gone.   But Wickmore had seen the nods. He knew who backed whom.   Wickmore made his way across the foyer of the Grande. "Were you looking for me?"   Keenan glared at the man on the screen. "Honesty League. Two months ago they were nobody." He sipped the coffee in his hand, curled his mouth as if the coffee was curdled, and scowled at the screen again. "Now the whole galaxy is on their side."   "The Honesty League has been around for ten years." Not that Wickmore disagreed with Keenan. They had been unknown. Just another fringe group trying, unsuccessfully, to bring so-called law and order to an unlawful universe. Until Santiago-one of the Big Twenty-Seven companies-had been stupid enough to convince the Justice Department to blatantly look the other way while they murdered the brother of the man who owned most of the free media inside the legal zone and outside it. The Honesty League had used this to call the Justice Department to account. Santiago had given them a martyr, and a voice, and they were taking full advantage of it.   "One month and we have to watch everything we do," Keenan said.   It was closer to three months now, but you didn't correct the chairman of the board for minor inconsistencies like that.   "We can't even dispose of anyone now without the Honesty League, and hence the Justice Department, jumping all over it."   "How many people have you disposed of lately?" Wickmore's department looked after jobs like that.   "Metaphorically speaking. That's not the only thing the Justice Department turns a blind eye to." Keenan looked at the coffee again, looked at the recycler. "I hate this stuff. They coat the container with some sort of wax."   The coffee hub that made up the center of the foyer was doing roaring business, with customers waiting five-deep for their order. Keenan's bodyguards were nowhere in sight