Stars Gods Wolves by Dan Kirshtein (best classic books .txt) 📕

what could have been the same breath, it continued. “Landing gear unadvised, given current terrain.”

Harper gave a tight nod and a response he knew she wouldn’t recognize. “Yeah, but what can you do!” His white knuckles shook as the steering controls rattled.

“Warning,” it started again. “Altitude decreasing.”

“Sydney, stop!” Martin shouted, spitting. His own knuckles were white upon the arms of the co-pilot’s seat. During the silence, Harper gave the man a surprised look as they rocked.

Sabile: Research Station 2

Doctor Christopher Howlette was a patient man who felt he was being tested. His usually gentle eyes were tired and strained. It had been two weeks since they called for help, and they hadn’t left the station since. That plan was proving to be a temporary one; Research Station 3 had done the same and had just recently run out of food. They kept in constant contact with each other—mostly out of fear that one station might no longer be able to do so—and Howlette had found doing so quite trying on his nerves while he knew they’d soon be starving.

Mitch, his assistant, refused to go back out there since his last trip, and begged all of them to do the same. He had made it a point to grow a beard since his hazardous journey, and Lee had mentioned how quiet he’d been since he returned. Howlette and Lee, as well as the doctors in Station 3, obeyed his wishes, though it pained them. When they’d finally received a response to their distress call, the scientists assumed it was a rescue, or a delivery of emergency supplies, or even extra security to protect them while they worked. When Howlette relayed the message to his colleagues, they pointed out that the response had promised none of those things. That’s when the panic came.

Doctor Howlette was in the middle of a book when he heard Lee shouting at the sight of a proximity alert. He stood up and bolted to the terminal, nearly colliding with Mitch who was doing the same. They watched Lee pull open the report, and all smiles turned to skepticism. After a pause, Mitch commented. “Well, that can’t be it.” He furrowed a brow. “It’s only one ship.”

Lee leaned closer to the terminal, reading the specs of the incoming ship. “Looks like an old model.”

Howlette voiced his concerns. “Are we sure that’s even our ship? At that speed, it may pass us.”

That’s when he noticed a sound that was gradually refusing to be considered background noise. The rumbling made all the white-coated men perk their ears. It was occasionally interrupted by soft crashes. It seemed to be coming from the right side of the building, to which all of them turned.

Through the windows, the scientists watched a sturdy, albeit small vessel slide over mound after mound of snow. Sitting atop its inflatable water-landing gear, it burst through the gray snow and crashed over peak after peak. It was slowing, but it cleared the building, going just shy of twenty miles an hour. All three heads within Research Station 2 watched it slide past them. They began to lower their expectations.

Sabile:The Atticus, two miles past Research Station 2

Nitro watched as Gally’s pink and green vomit slid down the walkway, though he didn’t bother to lift his boots when it got to him. He could hear her groaning as the others prepped their all-terrain gear. After a second or two of fumbling around in a nearby backpack, Nitro finally took out a packet of Salt-Sticks and handed one to the girl to soothe her stomach.

She looked up at him, after blotting her running eyes with her wrists, and took the packet. And while she didn’t thank him, she never looked away from him, even as he walked away and joined his company.

Boomer was quite ready to leave; he’d grown bored of sitting and was excited to see what all this fuss was about. After stripping down to his underwear, revealing his shrapnel-scarred, bony figure, he stepped into the all-terrain suit. He’d always found these things quite cozy, as once the button was pressed they became skin-tight and air-tight. A small built-in backpack generated a body-safe environment, no matter what extreme weather it faced. They detached the masks and opted for helmets that were equipped with coms and a heads-up-display visor.

Josie pulled a sidearm from her pack and, without looking, held it for Gally to retrieve from her. When Gally hadn’t taken it, the whole cabin went silent. It was a strange thing, as something so silent and subtle would not have been noticed by most. But when someone within the Purple Company felt something was wrong—in this case, Josie—it drew the attention of the others.

“Leave it. She’s no fighter,” Ox’s booming voice surmised: the first one to break the silence.

Nitro stormed back up the walkway, only half-equipped for the trip out. “Oh, yes, she is,” he insisted. He swiped the sidearm from Josie’s hand and urged it toward Gally. The girl didn’t take it; she just stood there, looking at the captain as if he’d walk away soon. He didn’t. “You are my employer.” He spoke quietly, firmly. “And if you insist on coming with us—” he thrust the sidearm in front of her again, “—I insist on you living long enough to pay us.”

She didn’t look scared of the pistol; she simply had no intention of shooting anyone. Gally had experience with such equipment, but it was against targets or digital skeets, never anything living. The thought of taking a life chilled her to her core, and it showed in the way she stared at the firearm.

“It’s fine.” Harper interrupted the tension, grabbing the gun from Nitro’s hands. “She’ll be fine.” When Nitro didn’t seem convinced, still staring straight through the delicate girl, Harper patted the captain on the chest to draw his attention. “She’ll be fine.” He loaded it himself and looked at Gally as she stood up. “You take it from me