So yeah, our main man, John Shannon, is this disgraced Spacelane 5 Fleet captain. Buddy mutinied and tried to save all these prisoners serving time in isolation pods adrift in space. Here’s a guy who was raised by a robotic surrogate mom who was busting his ass to try and do what was right. What did that get him? Thrown out of the space fleet. C’mon man!
But this dude bangs. He’s scarred, hard as fuck, and doesn’t give a shit about what’s right and wrong. What works is what’s right and what works is being a god damn space pirate. We’re not talking about let’s raid that wimpy cargo ship for lichen or raze some developing planet for shits and giggles. Shannon and his crew give no fucks and have a space monopoly on the ultimate booty. Fertilized human eggs.
These bros zip in on their pods and drop thousands of pellets of this crazy hallucinogen Mythmadness. Everyone is just trippin’ balls. Screaming, dancing, having a debate on gender equality with a dog that they think is their late Uncle Neil sort of thing. Everyone is completely at the pirate’s whim. The pirates mark all the women in very early stages of pregnancy and steal their eggs. These chicks are thinking they’re playing whack-a-mole at the county fair and then the pirates take the fertilized eggs and sell them to some off-world colony or aliens that like to eat fatties. Makes no difference, money’s money, and they need money to go whoring at Seventh Heaven, the best damn satellite brothel in the galaxy. Well played.
The most powerful crime lord in the Starlanes, who is legally dead and beyond the reach of the law, shows up and wants what Shannon has. Oxon Kaedler has burns over 100% of his body and free floats in a force field. All I know is that I really could have used a free floating force fieldbafter I crushed a dozen margaritas and passed out in the kiddie pool at the Sandals Montego Bay. Woke up looking like the Canada flag but nothing another dozen margs wouldn’t cure. Anyways, buddy is so toast that he needs this obese Class 7 Neomorph alien from Caliban to telepathically communicate for him. Dude doesn’t just want what Shannon has; he wants to be Shannon. He offers to buy his business, his gal Reba, and his body to clone and transfer his consciousness into. The thing I don’t get is that if cloning, rapid maturation, and consciousness transfers are easy in this universe I don’t know why fertilized eggs are such big business. Then again, what do I know? I’m just a guy who reads books, eats pepperoni pizza pops dipped in ranch, and rips farts into my couch. Anyways, Shannon rejects his offer and the chase is on. With Kaedler and the Space Patrol on his tail, Shannon encounters the one thing that he wasn’t ready for… Love.
The pace slows down as the novel progresses from space raids to Shannon’s moral introspection. But there was always enough drugs, sex, and mayhem to keep this guy entertained. Most definitely recommend.
Anyways, that’s about all I got. Adios, amigos!
Used copies of Mythmaster are available on Amazon.