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

Boomer smirked at her, but his face soon fell; he knew the truth as he looked back at his boxes. In their line of work, over-preparing meant fear or reluctance. And the lieutenant being worried was rare. After looking at her for a few more seconds, he unsealed his pouch and begrudgingly retrieved more equipment.

Nitro walked by, already fully suited up. He was silent and focused: something the Company was accustomed to before a mission—and only before a mission. He dragged out a large box full of clips. Boomer scoffed at the sight; it had been a while since they had used actual munitions.

Economically speaking, old school munitions had grown quite expensive. They had to be manufactured, packed, shipped, and loaded, all for a one-time use. Plasma batteries were rechargeable, more effective against non-biological enemies, and they just looked cool. Purple Company had outfitted all of their equipment with purple plasma. It was a part of their aesthetic, which was important to Boomer. “Might as well just throw currency at them,” Boomer mumbled as he opened the old-fashioned case. He expected it to be dusty, like opening a tomb, but it wasn’t.

“Doctor’s orders. And mine,” Nitro commented, loud enough for the team to hear, and they continued to load up. Their current arms, both main and side, fired both live rounds and plasma, with just a small button on the side to switch between the two. Even so, the rifles became much heavier, would kick harder, and would fire louder than when firing plasma. With a smile, Josie slammed the clip in and heard it click. To her, it was all the more satisfying.

When Purple Company arrived at the landing bay, Nitro glanced up to see all the doctors filing into the Atticus as well. His face dropped to disapproval before he heard Ox behind him. “Too many.” The captain’s upper lip curled before he nodded, storming up to the ship, ahead of the other mercenaries.

He found Gally standing at the base of the loading dock. When he reached her, he found that she wouldn’t match his energy. She turned at the waist toward him and raised a curious eyebrow. He gave her a serious look, as if it was a question that he turned into a statement. “They’re not coming.”

But she shrugged, looking back at the ship. “It’s the discovery of an age, captain.” She couldn’t help but smile at their enthusiasm, even if they had been stubborn when she asked them to stay put. The rest of Purple Company walked past Nitro, and she watched them board, still turned away from him. “It’s just a quick trip.”

Nitro’s nose twitched, wanting to argue further, but he was interrupted by the engines of the Atticus warming up. He stepped past her and boarded the ship, his head bouncing in an angry nod. “What could possibly go wrong?!” he asked, ironically.

Ox plopped himself down next to Mitch, who was then forced to hunch over. They both looked to Boomer, who was looking at the ceiling and pondering Nitro’s question aloud. “Lots of things.” He spoke over the engine noise. “Lots of fucking things.”

The roof on the research station’s docking bay opened, and the Atticus rose up, diligently. The vessel carried on for some time before they reached any signs of buildings. Doctor Howlette leaned into the cockpit, noticing the large gray-swept landscape that was merely dotted with proof of civilization. Pieces of half-eaten buildings and bits of houses littered their path like discarded chicken bones. “My god,” he uttered to no one in particular. His voice came through the coms rough and bewildered. “This was a city when we got here.”

Gally, in the co-pilot seat—perfectly happy not to touch anything, though Harper reminded her anyway—rolled her bottom lip. It was all an affirmation that this needed to be done; this kind of decimation would not end on Sabile. And while her personal business with Rook was vital to her, she couldn’t walk away without doing something about these monsters. Just then, she thought of her report back to her superiors. “Doctor Collier,” she called to him over the coms. Without waiting for him to acknowledge, she continued, “have you named them yet?”

The scientists looked at each other inquisitively. Usually the honor of naming the creature was given to the discoverer. However, this was due to the fact that the discoverer and the actual creator never seemed to be in the same room. But they were now. Doctor Howlette had a peculiar grin on his face as he glanced up to Martin; given Martin’s reputation, Howlette was half expecting some variation of ‘Collierites’ or ‘Martin’s Munchers’. The look on Martin’s face proved that he hadn’t given it any thought.

Shame took Martin: shame in having all but eliminated the Heruleans, shame at creating such devastating creatures, and shame for having felt pride in being a creator of life. “Carrion,” he grimaced, thinking that the only name appropriate. His legacy was already a tapestry of death; he would not see these creatures added to that.

Over the hum of the engines and the heavy silence, the other doctors nodded in agreement and understanding. Lee slapped Martin on the shoulder in solidarity. They didn’t speak, [as they were awful with words and feelings and such], but they all sat there, silently commiserating with the man they idolized.

“Everybody buckle up,” Harper was heard over the coms, but the instruction fell on deaf ears. The doctors and their assistants already had their seatbelts on, and Purple Company simply disregarded it. Even Gally disregarded it, and she was sitting right next to him, slumped comfortably in her seat up front. “Cracking a window.” The back of the cargo bay drooped, and wind howled through the Atticus. Most of the crew deployed the visual shields on their helmets. Gally did this and stood up, slowly making her way toward the back. Harper’s head turned to follow her, though