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

Gally led Ula to the co-pilot’s seat and buckled her in. Seeing the girl up there, Harper gave Gally a nervous look. Ula sat, comfortably, looking up at Gally, who sighed. “Just uh, don’t touch anything, okay?” She looked back at Harper, who seemed to give her a nervous nod. Gally smirked as she patted the girl’s helmet before making room for Harper, who immediately began disassembling components and bulkheads.

The ship was larger than the Atticus, and it seemed more complex for no reason. The pilot’s eyes darted from wire to wire, taking more care this time than with the door.

An explosion rocked the building, and an alarm sounded. Gally grinned as she held her earpiece in place. “Felt that from here, Boomer. Nice job. Are we clear?” She noticed Ox stumble. She thought it was from physical pain, so she rushed to help him. When she arrived, Ox looked up at her, slowly, with telling eyes. “Ah, no.”

8

It was a quiet life, for a while. Maxia was a great little colony, and we were all very close. Martin was—peaceful. Well, as peaceful as he could be.

I know he was arrogant about his work, and everyone loved to parade him around as some mad scientist because of what he did, but that’s not how I knew him.

I knew him as a man: slightly flustered, troubled, and complicated. He had demons, sure, but who didn’t after that war. He was brilliant and a bit arrogant, but he was also kind, gentle.

He had to take something to help him sleep, almost daily. He regretted what he did, and it kept him awake at night. Which is one of the reasons he surrendered the way he did.

They came for him, in their white armor, all militaristic and stiff. We all went to see him off. Everyone there did.

But he walked with me. And I was—God, I was so weak back then.

Ah, I’m sorry, I just, sorry.

Do you have a tissue or something?

Thank you.

I just—

I wanted to help him. I wanted to give him a way out.

If, for some reason, he had any regrets about going, I wanted to make sure he wasn’t going to suffer. So I handed him a vial, and he said, ‘What’s this?’

And I hugged him and whispered in his ear: ‘Poison’.

‘Windows: The Amateur Scientist Pub-cast’

Interview with Elizabeth Bowman

August 2nd, 2315

Sabile:Base of Operations of the Eighth: West Wing

Nitro was humming a song. It wasn’t a particularly good or clever song. It was just some jaunty sailor tune that Zerich had ingrained into his mind over the years. And while it wasn’t hopping or leg bouncing, the song kept him focused, while the memory of his late friend kept him angry.

As he stood in the communications relay, the captain removed a bandolier from his shoulder. Upon the bandolier sat many batteries, usually reserved as ammunition for a plasma rifle. But he was a new man now. And he had ample laser rifles.

He took the dead Eighth body in front of him and propped it up, having found it to be the only one with all its limbs still intact. It stood leaning against a wall as Nitro wrapped the bandolier over it. He pressed a button on every single one of the batteries, until they let out a high-pitched whine.

The whine was remarkably off-key from the tune Nitro was humming, but that didn’t stop him. When all the buttons had been pushed, and all the batteries gave off a whine that sounded like the galaxy’s worst choir, Nitro gave a proud look to the Eighth’s body and grinned. “Ham-fisted,” he scoffed as he looked over his work. Soon enough, his face drifted from proud to reflective. “Eh, maybe.” After a shrug, he dragged the body over to the door, propped it against the door, and ran behind a distant row of terminals for cover.

Looking over the terminals, Nitro saw the console for the door ahead, which led to the large room with the cells he believed Martin to be in. He threw a piece of debris at the console and missed. The second piece of debris connected, and the door slid open. Without the door as support, the body toppled over toward the next room, which, as anticipated, was packed with the Eighth.

It hadn’t even hit the floor before it was blazed by enemy fire. Laser after laser after laser battered the body. Nitro dropped below the terminals again and shoved his hands under his helmet to cover his ears. Just as the body was about to hit the floor, one of the laser blasts pierced a battery pack. Granted, one battery pack wasn’t enough to blow up a whole room, but a whole bandolier full of them was.

Purple light burst out into several flashes, lighting both rooms like a strobe before a booming crash decimated the room full of the Eighth. Dust and debris splattered into the communications relay, covering the very satisfied captain. Having full knowledge of the base—thanks to Ox’s incredibly useful trick—he knew that plasma would not get through the light-walls with which the cells were lined. The doctor would be well protected. Nitro uncovered his ears, though he could not shake a distant ringing, and brushed off the dust from the blast. He cracked his neck, grinned, and stepped into the large room.

Now whistling the tune, he strolled through the room. He found every cell empty; not a single light-barrier was activated. Some even had chunks of the Eighth tossed in from the blast. ‘The next one,’ he thought each time. Upon reaching the very last empty cell, Nitro’s grin faded quickly.

Another explosion rocked the base, and Nitro looked in the direction where he last left his demolitions expert. He heard Gally over the coms. “Felt that from here, Boomer. Nice job. Are we clear?” There was a long silence. Nitro stopped.

“Boomer, acknowledge,” Nitro cut in. He hoped he