Prince Du Mon of Mars is a reluctant officer aboard the starship, Socrates. However, he quickly finds himself thrust into danger when pirates kill his best friend, and a devastating creature arrives at the edge of inhabited space. The prince quickly learns two things:
First, someone onboard wants him captured or dead. Second, he must outwit a terrifying alien foe that he cannot comprehend.
Lessons from the Wreckage mixes the thrills of space opera and alien contact, with a coming of age story about friendship, learning, love and loss.
Praise for Lessons from the Wreckage:
A great read. Fast paced and gripping, I couldn’t put it down. Can’t wait till next book. Good character development with some interesting twists. – Amazon AU Review
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Excerpt from Lessons from the Wreckage:
There was a faint popping sound from far away, and the Socrates lurched heavily under the duress of a warhead exploding under the bow. The ship’s spin rapidly decelerated with the sudden impact, and Captain Dav’i felt himself grow several kilos lighter in his command chair. He gripped the armrests and waited for the ship’s computer to fire the spin thrusters again.
“What are the lasermen doing?” he shouted at Plessis.
Her eyes were wide, and her face was aglow in the scarlet warnings and contacts displayed on her console. “They didn’t detect the explosives captain,” she shouted as another shockwave rocked the vessel. The prince to his left was deadpan, frowning into his own console in disbelief.
Dav’i flicked his console over to show a projection of the capital ship Socrates and its surroundings. Ahead of them, the stars winked slightly.
“Commander Plessis, aim the forward lasers ahead and strafe them in a grid-search pattern,” he commanded. She relayed the command without looking up. Dav’i concentrated his own console’s screen on the heat signatures further out in space.
“Sensors, have you processed who’s firing on us?”
Du Mon hadn’t stopped frowning at his console, but he nodded. “The engine trails look Lunar-made, and the radio traffic is in scrambled Earthen,” he said.
Approximately ten thousand kilometres away, the four mining frigates responsible for the warheads launched their corvettes towards the Socrates.
“Their flying formation isn’t Earthen,” Plessis called from the red glow beside him. Captain Dav’i glanced at her console and saw the red swarm of ships that the central computer was projecting for them. The corvettes danced and dogged in a roughly cone-shaped formation: undisciplined, but obviously skilled and acclimatised to deep space.
Du Mon tilted his head and listened carefully to the radio chatter. “They’re broadcasting to the open channel. They want us to surrender…” He stopped, eyes widening.
“Spit it out, boy.”
“…to surrender me, to give up Prince Du Mon to the Earth-Lunar Miner’s Guild. The message is on repeat.”
“Bloody pirates,” Captain Dav’i shouted. He slammed his fist against his command chair. “I’d rather fight another war.”