Radical Dreamer by J.N. Chaney (The Messenger Book 9)
English | 2020 | Fantasy | ePUB | 2.8 MB
J. N. Chaney has a Master’s of Fine Arts in creative writing and fancies himself quite the Super Mario Bros. fan. When he isn’t writing or gaming, you can ﬁnd him in the Renegade Readers Facebook Group. The Facebook group is full of fans as well as universe authors who love to discuss the books and other related topics.
The galaxy itself is under siege, and only the Messenger can save it.
The Verity are in collapse. Clan Shirna is gone. And all along, the ships of the Cygnus Realm have been pushing back until only the Golden are left.
Or so Dash thought.
With the discovery of two new races and a sphere of stars embroiled in war, Dash hurls the Forge ever deeper into territory where no human can live free. The Golden are no longer merely advisors—now, they are present in the fights themselves, their silver ships gleaming with menace in a war that threatens to incinerate an entire arm of the galaxy.
With mechs, and carriers, and a tough survivor named Jexin, Dash will strike at the first defensive line of an empire older than human history, and with it, set events in motion that can only end in victory for one side and the total destruction of the other.
For Dash, the choice is clear. Only absolute victory will do, and he will spill his own blood to achieve it.
One battle at a time.
Dash plunged a mechanical fist into the Golden ship’s hull, slamming through alloy plating and tearing power systems apart in showers of incandescent plasma.
“Gimme some room. Hot stuff coming out!” Dash said, hurling a glowing slab of bulkhead behind him. Pulse rounds started banging into his armor, adding to the fireworks.
“Don’t worry, Dash. You’ve got lots of room, so play on,” Leira replied. Dash spared the tactical display a glance and saw the other three mechs, the Slipwing, and a trio of Cygnus Realm corvettes weaving around him, taking out the smaller drones that had tried to defend this bigger vessel, their mothership. They doggedly tried to stop the Archetype, but it was a hopeless fight. As each drone died, the pulse-cannon fire slackened. In a few seconds, it had stopped altogether.
Some of the myriad local sensors that studded the Archetype’s exterior, the devices that kept detailed information about hull and systems integrity, recorded weapon hits. Something was attacking the massive hand ripping out the ship’s guts but so weakly as to inflict no meaningful damage at all. Curious, Dash pulled the mighty fist back out of the breach and peered inside. He expected to see Golden, probably firing small arms at him in a fit of desperation.
But he didn’t. Instead, he saw several multi-legged, insectile bots. They were Dreadfoot, the powerful combat bots they’d encountered aboard the crashed Golden wreck on Gulch. There, unarmored, armed only with small arms of their own, fighting through the dark, claustrophobic corridors and compartments, they’d been a terrifying threat. Against the Archetype, though, they didn’t even rate being called a nuisance.
Dash reached back in and grabbed a Dreadfoot, then he yanked it out of the ship, crushed it, and hurled it away as scrap.
“Dash, is that a Dreadfoot you just tossed there?” Conover asked. “If there are any more, don’t crush them—use a throw instead, and I’ll hijack their AI. We can take them intact.”
“Couldn’t agree more. Here you go.” Dash sent one in his direction, then he followed it up with more.
“Uh, Dash, I know you’re immersed in your work, but that big asteroid is getting awfully close,” Leira said.
Dash glanced at tactical. Sure enough, an asteroid the size of a city was looming ever closer as the remains of the Golden ship and the Archetype both sailed along on the former’s final trajectory. Dash would have called it incredibly dumb luck since the chances of accidentally hitting another celestial body were miniscule. But this system, located a few light-years core-ward of the Cradle, contained nothing but chunks of rock and ice. A cloud of them wrapped around the star in a vast, diffuse ring. If there had ever been planets here, something had thoroughly pulverized them.