Stargun Messenger

"Harn's entertaining debut uses super powers as a metaphor to delve into class politics in an alternate America."PUBLISHER'S WEEKLY“Gorgeous literary writing, sweeping themes about how capitalist gain has replaced empathy in American society, and Darby's usual amazing dialogue.”SUNYI DEAN, AUTHOR OF THE BOOK EATERS"If you want a gritty approach to super heroes with a literary twist that still levels buildings, has aliens, and government conspiracies, don't sleep on this."WAYNE SANTOS, AUTHOR OF THE CHIMERA CODE“It’s a crime Harn isn’t more well known.”JOSHUA MAUTHE“This was a fascinating, fast-paced, yet lyrical read about what commercialized super heroism might look like. Loved it and highly recommend!”SHELLY CAMPBELL, AUTHOR OF UNDER THE LESSER MOON"★★★★★ – Ever The Hero is highly recommended for fans of LGBTQ+ fiction, superhero genre readers and sci-fi fans alike."READERS' FAVORITE"Superheroes and an alien threat within a dystopian society – all these individually, and seemingly endlessly, fascinating things are combined in Darby Harn's Ever the Hero."MAKING GOOD STORIES"Ever The Hero is an absolute must-read for anyone who is even remotely interested in superheroes, and if this genre is to continue to grow in the literary world, books like this are a big reason why."J.D. CUNEGAN, AUTHOR OF THE JILL ANDERSON MYSTERIES“Lyrical, evocative prose! Raw, emotional dialogue! Delicate and personal, but also has epic action and huge concepts.”ESSA HANSEN, AUTHOR OF NOPHEK GLOSS STARGUN MESSENGERCopyright © 2023 Darby Harn. All rights reserved.This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.Library of Congress Control Number: 2022923392ISBN: 978-1-7370097-6-4Fair Play Bookswww.darbyharn.comCover art by Al Hess.www.alhessauthor.comNo part of this book may be reproduced in any form by electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the publisher. To seek permission to use the book for anything other than review purposes, please contact the publisher at [email protected] in the U.S.A.First Edition “The truth is of course there is no journey. We are all arriving and departing at the same time.”– DAVID BOWIE For Al contentsChapter 1Chapter 2Chapter 3Chapter 4Chapter 5Chapter 6Chapter 7Chapter 8Chapter 9Chapter 10Chapter 11Chapter 12Chapter 13Chapter 14Chapter 15Chapter 16Chapter 17Chapter 18Chapter 19Chapter 20Chapter 21Chapter 22Chapter 23Chapter 24Chapter 25Chapter 26Chapter 27Chapter 28Chapter 29Chapter 30Chapter 31Astra Idari Will Return!Enter The EververseAbout the AuthorAcknowledgmentsAlso By Darby Harn I STRUGGLE with who I am.Bad memory. Evidently, I’m a pirate, going off this blaster/sword combo thing. Blasword. Something like that. I know I’m a proxy-netic. No matter how much memory I lose closing down bars in dead-end systems or operating after I’ve run out of storage, this body never lets me forget. I’m not entirely the human I see myself as.>INTERNAL MEMORY FULLBan Minda. I shouldn’t swear. Though for the life of me, I can’t recall why. I can’t recall anything at the moment, including who or where I am. My name is on the tip of my tongue. Anur? Soja? That’s probably some other girl on the tip of my tongue.Use your head. Use your sensors. You’ve plenty of those. Audio, visual, some other ones you probably shouldn’t touch the dial on until you know better. Right, then. I’m in a derelict ore processing facility with a hangover of equal or greater mass than the planetary fragment I’m on. Shouldn’t have had that last bottle of babyl.At least then I’d have it now.Nickel shavings float in a nebula around me as I make my way down an endless corridor. What am I doing here? Keep your head on. I may not know where I am or why, but I have no doubt of where I’m going. No matter what, drunk, forgetful, or both, I can always fall back on my true and constant guide through the dark.CR-UX, are you reading me?>LOSS OF SIGNALWhere is he? I must be out of the range of the ship. What’s it called? I can never remember what it’s called. I should. It’s a shoe, that ship. Old. Tatty. Comfortable. I’ve worn holes through her, but I don’t feel right in anything else. Plus, it’s where I keep everything important to me. My booze. CR-UX. My backup memory.If I don’t get back and synch to the mainframe, I’ll forget forever who I am and then I’ll be just another human-looking android wandering around the stars. One of those blank books they sell in musty old shops for people to fill with dreams but no understanding.CR-UX, I need a hand.Did I crash? Ban Minda. I probably crashed. Generally not great on remembering things but some of my experiences leave bruises deeper than memory engrams.I crash a lot.I hope I didn’t this time. I’d be hopeless without CR-UX. I wake up out of the recharging cycle, a graft of jumbled memories, and he’s the only constant. Sometimes he gets on my nerves, but that’s anyone who you spend every day with. Doesn’t mean anything. Absent CR-UX, I have no perspective on the galaxy beyond the Steel Haven.That’s her name. The Steel Haven.She’s home. She’s me, in a way. My ark. We do what we have to do to keep her going, even if we don’t like it. Who likes their job? I’m here on a job. I’m a contractor. Bounty hunter? Something like that. I try to ping off the mainframe to locate the ship, but no luck. Should be a signal. The proxy-netic maintains a constant link to the ship. I can tell by the constant little note blinking here in my diagnostic log.I should probably open the constant little note.>ACCESSING PROTECTED FILES>PASSWORD: IDARI1234>FILE CRITICAL / ALWAYS READ THIS FIRSTYour name is Astra Idari. You’re an IA-XR Model 4 proxy-netic. You have limited onboard memory that purges data routinely.Syllables line up. Idari. What kind of name is that? Pirate, I think. Am I Pujar? How do I tell? All I’ve got besides this blasword is a tattoo on my chest. Sort of like a star, if