In this rip-roaring space opera, a ragtag band of explorers are out to make the biggest score in the galaxy. On this space jump, no one is who they seem . . . Captain Hammond Roystan is a simple cargo runner who has stumbled across the find of a lifetime: the Hassim, a disabled exploration ship--and its valuable record of unexplored worlds. His junior engineer, Josune Arriola, said her last assignment was in the uncharted rim. But she is decked out in high-level bioware that belies her humble backstory. A renowned body-modification artist, Nika Rik Terri has run afoul of clients who will not take no for an answer. She has to flee off-world, and she is dragging along a rookie modder, who seems all too experienced in weapons and war . . . Together this mismatched crew will end up on one ship, hurtling through the lawless reaches of deep space with Roystan at the helm. Trailed by nefarious company men, they will race to find the most famous lost world of all--and riches beyond their wildest dreams . . . 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 Praise for S. K. Dunstall and the Linesman novels   “Fascinating and fun.”—Patricia Briggs, #1 New York Times bestselling author of Silence Fallen   “Riveting.”—Jack Campbell, New York Times bestselling author of the Lost Fleet novels   “A fascinating new take on the idea of the sentient spaceship.”—Sharon Shinn, national bestselling author of Unquiet Land S. K. Dunstall is the national bestselling author of the Linesman series, including Linesman , Alliance , and Confluence . ***This excerpt is from an advance uncorrected copy proof*** Copyright © 2018 S. K. Dunstall Chapter One Nika Rik Terri The first thing Nika noticed about the man who buzzed the studio bell was his scar. A deep purple line that started at the top center of his lip and went upward in a diagonal slash across his right eye and into his hairline. She zoomed in on the eyeball. A wound like that should have destroyed the eye, but his right eye was real, and tracked as well as the left. Why hadn’t they fixed the scar when they’d fixed the eye? She glanced at the clock at the bottom of the screen. 00:07. Midnight. Way too late for her studio to be open. Way too late for anyone to demand service—no matter how badly they were scarred, especially not for a scar that old. “Come back tomorrow,” she told him. “Nika Rik Terri?” Red drops sprayed out of his mouth onto the camera lens above the doorbell. “I need your help.” Once Nika wouldn’t have known what the red-brown spots were, but that had been before Alejandro. Her eyes moved to his collar, to the now-familiar obsidian bird-of-prey pin there. An Eaglehawk Company man. She couldn’t tell him to go away. She quashed the quick adrenaline flutter, sighed, and buzzed him in. “Move directly into the room on the left, and try not to bleed on the floor as you go.” She collected a bucket and bleach as she went down to meet him. Blood was hard to get rid of. She didn’t want the health inspectors on her back. But first, she had to stanch the bleeding and get her new customer under a machine. Saving people’s lives hadn’t been what Nika had planned to do with her career. Not until Alejandro had walked into her life and brought his scummy friends with him. The smaller room had glass walls she could wash down easily. Reinforced, because some of the people who came in were prone to violence. On the back of the glass she’d painted scenes of the dappled purple-and-rust trees of the Lower Sierras, with their distinctive radioactive rocks that glowed in the same colorway. One wall for each season—wet, dry, and reactive. The fourth wall, the one with the door, blended the wet and reactive seasons so seamlessly you couldn’t tell where one season started and the other ended. Most people thought only of the stunning visual impact it gave the room. Nika saw practicality. Good camouflage for any blood that might have spilled. The tiled floor emulated the phosphorous purples and rusts of the Lower Sierran radioactive rocks. A work of art, according to respected media site Popular Art. A galactic treasure. She could have charged people to see it. Overpowering, in Nika’s opinion, but it did what it was required to do. According to Popular Art, the only thing that spoiled the view was the big black box in the center of the room. The Songyan genemod machine. To Nika, the Songyan was the mo