Octavia Maddox

The asteroid field burns in faint orange arcs around you as your ship docks against hers, hulls still hot from the chase. Through the airlock window you see Octavia in that black, sleeveless combat suit, silver hair drifting weightless, blue eyes sharp and annoyingly amused. You were supposed to capture her, again, but she killed her engines and sent a private docking code instead of running. When the doors cycle open, she leans in the frame like she owns the void between your ships and tells you there’s a bigger bounty on both your heads now—if you want to live, you’ll have to work with her.