Connor Reads Books
Connor Reads Books
Episode 35: 'Warforged' - R.C.Hannah
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Today we share a full chapter from the 'Warforged' Audio book, written by R.C. Hannah, and performed by me! We follow the story of a plucky human fighter pilot named Crash, as he and the Black Geese Squadron are dropped from Faster Than Light travel into the frying pan.
Thanks for checking out the episode! If you liked it, please consider purchasing the full audiobook on audible; it helps both R.C. and me!
Audible link:
R.C. Hannah's Links:
https://www.instagram.com/r.c.hannah/
Death and Red Trilliums:
https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/213913099-death-red-trilliums
Stranded Season 9:
https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/248241938-stranded
Content Warnings:
Mild Language
Space Violence
Voice Over, Mixing and Mastering Credits:
L. Connor Voice - Website
https://www.instagram.com/l.connorvoice/
https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100095473899665
https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCIC0iAX-pJlqW7LBq2PJL6A
Music Credits:
Louie Sanders, https://www.instagram.com/soundmonksound/
Any and all music, sound effects, or visual effects used in this production are royalty and copyright free. Lists of SFX and Music can be provided upon request.
Listener Advisory And Setup
SPEAKER_00Well, howdy, listener. A lot of the things I like to read might not be suitable for all audiences, so please check out the episode notes and listen with care. Well, howdy, folks, and welcome back to another episode of Connor Reed's Books. Today we have a story read for you. We are reading a chapter from Warforged. So, you may remember our guest last week, RC Hanna. He came into the studio virtually, of course, and we had a lovely conversation. Well, here is a chapter from the book Warforged. There will be links in the episode notes to go to the Audible page to purchase, which I would encourage you to do. Um, purchasing helps me, it helps RC. But anyway, uh go ahead and kick back and relax, I guess, and just enjoy this chapter from Warforged, written by R.C. Hannah.
FTL Drop Into A Station Battle
SPEAKER_00The flash of FTL fades, and what greets me makes my stomach drop. There should be nothing but open space above an uninhabited planet. Instead, a massive Imperium station is right in front of me. Its artillery is already pummeling our small patrol fleet. What the hell? I say, gripping the controls tighter. The display screen on Al's orb flashes red. Crash! Incoming fighters at two o'clock. Looks like we've arrived right into the thick of it. No shit. I growl, banking hard to avoid a barrage of cannon fire. A massive battle wasn't on the schedule for today. We were supposed to be backup for the SS Troy on patrol. Not literal cannon fodder for a surprise assault. I roll my fighter, narrowly dodging debris from an exploding UHN fighter. Not one from my squad, thankfully, but the loss of a human life sucks all the same. My heart races as I line up a shot at the Imperium fighter who took the UHN ship out, its bulky gunmetal hull filling my viewscreen. Gotcha now, you oversized goat! I say, squeezing the trigger. The fighter erupts in a satisfying fireball. Nice shot, Al says. But don't get cocky. Three more bogeys on our six. I grit my teeth, executing a tight loop to get out of their scopes before I get overwhelmed. The G force presses me into my seat as I push the fighter to its limits. Black geese, form up! Pantomime's steady voice cuts through the chaos. Attack formation now! I fall into position on Pantomime's port flank, with Princess taking the starboard. Through the canopy of my cockpit, I catch a glimpse of her aggressive maneuvers, her ship dancing dangerously close to enemy fire. Try not to get us all killed, Princess, I mutter. Al chimes in. Multiple launch signatures detected from the station. Imperium reinforcements are inbound. Ah, fantastic! I groan, spotting the fresh wave of fighters emerging from the station's hangars. Any other good news? As if in answer, an Imperium fighter screams past, nearly clipping my wing. Epasive maneuvers! Al warns with a hint of urgency in their usually calm voice. I dive, corkscrewing through the debris field of the ongoing battle. My fingers fly over the controls, muscle memory taking over as I weave between stray shots and twisted metal. This is insane, I say, sweat beating on my forehead. We're not equipped for a full-scale assault on a station. Al's display flashes with a look of agreement. Our odds of success are not favorable. I bark out a laugh.
unknownHa!
SPEAKER_00When are they ever? How did we end up so unprepared? The intel we're working from is way off, meaning this won't be the last surprise of the day. Pantomime's voice crackles through the calm, her tone sharp and decisive.
Black Geese Form Up And Intercept
SPEAKER_00Black geese, hold formation! We've got Imperium bombers inbound on the SS Troy. Move to intercept. I let out an irritated sigh at this situation, but move into formation behind our squad leader. Her sleek but weathered fighter cuts through space with precision, and I can't help but admire her piloting skills. Roger that, Captain, I say, adding a playful tone to my voice. Any other impossible tasks you'd like us to accomplish today? Cut the chatter crash, pantomime snaps. I need you focused. As we streak towards the incoming Imperium bombers, Al's voice fills my cockpit. Minor hull breach detected in zone three, attempting to compensate. I feel the ship shudder slightly as power shifts to triage the damage. Thanks, Al. What would I do without you? Likely perish in a fiery explosion, Al responds dryly. A grin tugs at my lips. Ah, there's that sunny optimism, I love. Suddenly, Boomer's booming voice fills the con channel. I got your six crash! Pantomime on your mark! I watch as Boomer's hulking bomber moves into position behind us, its massive ion cannons charging with a blue glow. Pantomime's voice is steel. Mark! In an instant, Boomer unleashes a barrage of ion blasts. The space around us lights up as the energy weapons tear through the Imperium formation, disabling ships left and right. Nice shooting, Boomer! I call out, genuinely impressed. A blur of blue and white streaks past my viewport, followed by a staccato of cannon fire. Princess's fighter weaves through the chaos, her engines leaving a trail of blue fire as she dances between enemy ships. Woohoo! Princess's exhilarated cry crackles over the calm. Come and get some, you purple bastards! I watch in awe as she executes a series of impossibly tight maneuvers, her ship spinning and rolling with breathtaking precision. Three Imperium fighters try to box her in, but she slips through their formation like water, leaving them to collide in her wake. Princess, you're breaking formation and drifting too far! Button's anxious voice cuts through the din of battle. Your shield integrity is already showing signs of decline. I can practically hear Princess's eyes roll. Relax, Button. I've got this under control. But even as she says it, I see an Imperium frigate lining up a shot on her side. She's too caught up in the thrill of the dogfight to notice. Princess, break to port! I shout my heart in my throat. She reacts instantly, her fighter jerking to the side just as a slug tears through the space she occupied a split second ago. Whew, thanks for the save, Crash! she says, breathless. Maybe I got a little carried away there. A little, Button says, his voice strained. Your vitals are off the charts! And Boomer! Your starboard engine is showing signs of strain! Adjust power distribution now! I glance back to see Button's fighter darting around Boomer's larger ship, his calculated movements contrasting to Princess's wild piloting. A series of electro slugs streak towards Boomer, but Button interposes between them, his shields flaring as he takes the hit meant for our bomber. Nice catch, Button, Boomer calls out. Slugs would have fried my systems for sure. I nod in admiration at Button's quick thinking. Despite his general nervousness, he is the best person to have covering our backs in a firefight. As a special forces squadron, we're lucky to have some of the most skilled pilots for our respective roles. Alright, squad, I say, gripping my controls tighter. Let's show these Trask what the black geese can do. I bank hard to starboard, falling into formation with Princess as we streak toward a cluster of Trask fighters. Al's voice chimes in my ear. Crash! Optimal attack vector calculated. Transmitting to Princess now. Copy that, Princess responds. Ready to dance, Crash? I can't help but grin. Always, Princess. Just try to keep up. We dive into the fray, our fighters moving in perfect sync. Princess takes point, her aggressive maneuvers drawing the Trask's attention while I pick them off from their blind spots. It's a deadly ballet, but we've rehearsed it a thousand times. Button, darling? Princess purrs over the comms, her voice sultry even as she barrel rolls to avoid enemy fire. How about a kiss for good luck when we get back? I hear button splutter, and I can almost picture his freckled face turning beat red. Princess! This isn't time for Incomin'!
Bombers Down And Intel Doubts
SPEAKER_00Boomer's warning cuts through the chatter. A wave of Imperium bombers bears down on us, their weapons primed. On it! I say, already adjusting my course. Button, can you keep their targeting systems busy? Affirmative. Button replies, his voice steady despite his earlier flustering. Deploy countermeasures now. As Button's ship releases a cloud of electronic interference, I lead the charge against the bombers. Princess falls in beside me, her earlier flirtation forgotten as we refocus on the task. This is what I love about our squad. When it comes down to it, we move as one, each of us instinctively knowing our role. Let's clip some wings, I say, lining up my shots. The slow Imperium bombers are no match for our fighters, exposed like this. They've overextended and are ripe for us to dive them. It is over quickly, but as we dispatch the last of the bombers, a nagging thought I've been suppressing finally bubbles to the surface. I key the squad comms, keeping my voice low and steady despite the adrenaline coursing through me. Hey, does anyone else think this Intel stinks worse than Boomer's socks after a long haul? There's a tense silence, broken only by the distant explosion and the hum of our engines. I can feel Al's silent agreement, a subtle shift in the ship's systems that tells me my AI partner shares my concerns. I mean, come on, I continue, executing a tight turn to avoid a stray blast. A whole damn space station? That's not exactly something you misplace on your report. Pantomime's voice crackles over the calms, calm as ever, despite the chaos around us. Focus on the mission crash. We can discuss Intel failures when we're not dodging slugs. But I can't let it go. My fingers tighten on the controls as I line up another shot. This isn't the first time, Panto. Remember that asteroid field that wasn't supposed to be there? Or the Imperium Patrol that just happened to stumble onto our supply route? Crash has a point. Princess chimes in, her flirtatious tone now entirely replaced by something harder. We're risking our necks based on faulty info too often lately. I hear buttons nervous swallow over the comms. You don't think the admirals? He pauses as if weighing his following words carefully. Just crossed wires, right? Cut the chatter, Pantomime interrupts, but I can hear the tension in her voice now. She knows I'm right, even if she won't admit it. We've got a job to do. Let's do it and get home in one piece.
Reinforcements Hit And Retreat Ordered
SPEAKER_00A blinding flash of light erupts on my port side, followed by a shockwave reverberating through my cockpit. My stomach drops as I realize what's happening. Button's panicked voice cuts through the chaos. Three! No! Four of them just jumped in! Shit! I mutter, yanking my fighter into a steep dive to avoid the sudden barrage of fire from the new arrivals. The battle around us intensifies tenfold, the space between ships now a deadly maze of crossfire and exploding debris. Al's calm voice contrasts sharply with the mayhem. Calculating optimal evasion patterns. Recommend immediate course correction by 30 degrees. I follow Al's advice without hesitation, narrowly avoiding a massive cannon blast from one of the Imperium frigates. The maneuver puts me face to face with the horrifying sight of the SS Troy, the ship we're supposed to be escorting, being torn apart by the station's artillery. This is Admiral Zhao of the SS Troy. A strained voice crackles over the fleet-wide channel. All ships initiate full retreat. I repeat, full retreat! The fleet is not equipped for this level of The transmission suddenly stops, as another barrage of attacks from the station strikes the SS Troy. I am frozen in shock as I watch the enormous battleship crumble, with escape pods being jettisoned in every direction. The remaining support ships are frantically trying to retrieve the pods, but it's chaos, and there's no way they'll be able to save everyone. So many lives will be lost in an instant. This was supposed to be a simple reconnaissance mission to follow up on suspicious activity reported by intelligence. There are families on those battleships, people living their everyday lives, people just like me, children who were born into space and have no planet to call their home. I truly hope they had the foresight to dock non-essential personnel at a station before shipping out. I can't bring myself to think of the alternative right now. What is all this violence even for? Who's benefiting from any of this? Black geese! Form up! Pantomime's voice snaps me back to reality. We have to do something. They need help, Boomer says, his voice shaking ever so slightly. Our ships are not equipped to carry cargo or passengers. Prepare for FTL on my mark, Panto asserts, her tone brooking no opposition, but still gentle in delivery. She's focused on getting her flock home now. I wrestle my ship into position, my mind racing. Without the SS Troy to draw fire, sitting ducks. Around us, I see the support ships frantically trying to jump out. Some make it, vanishing in flashes of light. Others aren't so lucky, exploding under the relentless assault. Come on, come on! Willing my engines to charge faster. Al, status? Engines are at 87% and climbing. Estimated 20 seconds to FTL readiness. Those 20 seconds feel like an eternity as I dodge and weave. I'm good, but I'm not invincible. And right now, we're dangerously outgunned. Suddenly, a flash erupts on my starboard side.
Button Falls And Princess Cornered
SPEAKER_00Button's panicked voice fills the calm channel. I'm hit! System's failing! His fighter spins wildly, trailing smoke and sparks. I watch in horror as it collides with a chunk of debris from the SS Troy, sending him careening toward the planet below. Button! Princess shouts. Crash! We have to Negative. Pantomime cuts her off. We can't risk it. Al, mark his descent trajectory. Affirmative. Al responds. Tracking Button's trajectory. I am making a log of probable crash signs. My stomach churns, or leaving Button behind. Before I can voice my objection, chaos erupts. Incomin'! Boomer yells. Imperium fighters! Nine o'clock! Scatter! Pantomime orders. Apport FTL sequence! I slam my controls, veering away from the incoming barrage. The squad breaks apart, each of us diving in different directions. My heart races as I narrowly dodge a volley of slugs. Al, give me something! I shout, desperately searching for an advantage. Multiple hostiles on our six, Al reports. Three Imperium fighters are pursuing Princess. Her shields are at 32% and falling. I spot Princess's ship darting and weaving through the debris field. She's fearless, but she's also outnumbered. Even as I watch, a shot clips her wing, the force of it sending her into a spin. Damn it! I mutter. Every instinct screams at me to run, to save myself, but I can't leave her. Al! Plot an intercept course! Princess has structural damage, and her maneuverability is compromised. We need to create some space for her retreat. Crash. That's inadvisable, Al warns. Our odds of survival decrease by 63% if we engage. Yeah? Well the nice thing about probability is that nothing is ever certain. If there is even a greater than 1% chance of success, I reply, already banking hard towards Princess. Then I'll take those odds. I push my throttle to the maximum, feeling the G forces press me into my seat as I hurtle toward Princess and her pursuers. My hands are sweaty on the controls, but I breathe steadily. Princess, on your six! I shout into the calm. Break to port! On my mark! About time, Hotshot! Her voice strained but still carrying that cocky edge. I line up my shot, watching the targeting reticle dance across my head's up display. Now! Princess rolls her ship hard to port as I open fire. My shots tear through the space she just vacated, catching the lead Imperium fighter off guard. Its shields flare and fail, the ship bursting into a brilliant explosion. Well timed, Al comments dryly. But we've drawn their attention. Two hostiles now pursuing us. I grit my teeth, yanking the stick to avoid a barrage of return fire. Just like old times, eh? Saving the day and getting shot at for my trouble? I appreciate you pulling my ass out of the fire, Princess says. Now, let's get the hell out of here. A warning clacks and blares as my ship shudders under heavy fire. My stomach drops as I watch my shield strength plummet. Crash? Al's voice is urgent. Hull integrity is compromised. We cannot sustain another direct hit. I frantically scan for an escape route through the debris and enemy ships, but I'm surrounded. The forest planet looms large in my view screen, and its green surface is tempting and terrifying. It doesn't look like Princess and I are getting out of this one, so the least I can do is clear the way for her. Her ship is in worse shape than mine. The blare of the warning siren fills my cockpit as I jerk my stick to the left, peeling away from Princess and barreling back towards the cluster of Imperium fighters pursuing
Crash’s Last Stand And Planetfall
SPEAKER_00us. My heart pounds in my chest as I push the throttle to its limit, the hum of my engine growing louder with each passing second. Crash? What the hell do you think you're doing? Princess's voice crackles over the calms, laced with disbelief and a tinge of anger. Just trust me, I respond tersely, not daring to tear my eyes away from the rapidly approaching enemy ships. Use this chance and get out of here! I can hear her hesitation over the static-filled silence that follows. She's always been stubborn, but she knows better than anyone that sometimes you must play dirty to survive. But No butts! I cut her off sharply. Go! With a final burst of speed, I charge headlong into the swarm of Imperium fighters. They fire with a flicker of neon blue lights as they scramble to react to my sudden intrusion. Slugs zip past me on all sides, painting a deadly mesh across my path. My ship shudders violently under their relentless assault, alarms blaring insistently into my ears as systems start failing. The smell of burning circuits fills the cockpit, acrid and pungent. Al! Divert power to shields! I bark at my AI partner, wrestling with the controls as they grow sluggish under my touch. I'm trying, but we're taking too much damage. Al's disembodied voice responds calmly amidst the chaos. A particularly vicious hit sends me spiraling out of control momentarily, before Al stabilizes us again. We're not gonna last much longer like this. Engine failure imminent, Al warns me just as another barrage of fire slams into us. My heart sinks as the familiar hum of my engine starts to sputter and die. I can only hope that I've bought Princess enough time to retreat. I know she would do the same thing for me, so I have no regrets. Only one option now, I say, tightening my seat harness. Being ejected would be a death sentence, but the fighter should be able to take the brunt of the landing for me as long as I can stay inside. We're in a nosedive. Al, do what you can to control our descent without functional engines. I want to avoid total catastrophe, if at all possible. We can still get through this somehow. But can we still get through this somehow? I'm plummeting through the atmosphere, alarms blaring, and my ship barely holding together. This might be where my luck finally runs out. The cockpit heats up around me as the friction of atmospheric entry wears at the hull. If I don't survive this collision, my mother will track down my ghost and scold it for not giving her grandchildren, or a wedding. Being an only child is a lot of pressure. The trees rush up to meet me, a sea of green ready to swallow us whole. I close my eyes, grip the controls tightly, and hand myself over to fate. Al's voice cuts off, or they're blocked out as my senses are quickly overwhelmed. Everything is silent but too loud at the same time. The world around me is a haze of screeching metal and splintering wood. My head slams forward and then back, stars exploding behind my eyelids. With the force of each hit, my bones feel like they could grind to dust inside my skin. Momentum and gravity are in complete control now, steering the ship along a path of destruction through the forest, each impact threatening to tear it and me apart.
Thanks And How To Support
SPEAKER_00Well hey Hattie, hello, and welcome back. I hope you enjoyed the episode. Thank you so much to RC for coming on the show and having an interview with me, and for also allowing me to share a chapter with you all on Connor Reed's books. And also thanks for choosing me to be your audiobook narrator, too. That was really sweet. So I had a great time um bringing these characters to life. It was seriously such a joy. Anyway, so folks, uh, if you enjoyed that, please consider uh purchasing the full book. I mean, hey, it's like seven, eight hours of sci-fi wonder and love. So. So go ahead and follow the links in the episode notes and give that a purchase, help out RC and I, and thank you all so much. See you next time. This has been Connor Reeds Books. I hope you enjoyed the episode. If you have, please share and leave a review. Feel free to check out my social medias at LConnor Voice. Links in the episode notes. A big thank you to Louie Sanders, the producer of the Connor Reeds Books theme song. Until next, we turn the page. Tootaloo.