Stars Gods Wolves: Book One: Carrion

by Dan Kirshtein

  He’d applied to other militaries, but none would take him. He’d applied to other mercenaries, but none would hire him due to his injuries from Sabile. The former captain had days when he was angry at Gally and some days when he was angry at the Human Government, but he also had days when he forgave them both. Today, he couldn’t decide.

  Cellis 6: A moon orbiting the planet Ephla

  Gaiman Transport Station

  A short, cloaked figure stepped off the transport ship and into the rain. It carried no luggage, no bags, just an ornate walking stick that came up well over the figure’s head. The navy blue cloak flapped in the wind as the figure navigated through a crowd.

  The transport station was bustling and packed with transients and travelers of all manner of species and occupations. The small, cloaked figure’s boots strode with confidence, as if they were proud or excited to be amid civilization.

  Long lines were laid out all along the metallic platforms that would eventually lead to a ticket booth and, further on, the transport shuttles. After waiting in line, the small, cloaked figure approached the booth. The hood of the cloak inched back just enough to reveal an eager, blue face.

  “One-way to Ephla, please.” Ula spoke into a large computer speaker. The computer churned as it translated and processed the request.

  “How many in your party?” it responded in Herulean, albeit with a gurgled, metallic voice.

  “One,” she smirked, grateful that she hadn’t needed to wear an oversized helmet to be understood.

  “Total is fifty one currency. Please present payment.”

  Ula’s gloved hand held up a small card to a circular sensor, perched just below the speaker she was talking into. A chime was synthesized, signaling that the payment was received, and a ticket printed out, which she accepted happily.

  Tugging once again on the hood to cover her face from the rain, Ula carried her walking stick all the way through the gates and into a shuttle whose number matched her ticket.

  The shuttle was long, white, and weathered. The dark and the rain covered the dents and dirt quite well, but the blasting white light from the shipyard made it all the more obvious. Ula found her way onto a seat and awaited the transport’s departure.

  Ephla: lush, grass-filled planet, homeworld of many

  City of Lorin’Thock

  The transport landed with an unnecessarily hard thud, and the passengers jerked forward. The doors opened, and the passengers poured out, as did little Ula. She carried the walking stick, no longer using it for support as she did at the station. Her curt walking became a full sprint as she navigated the small city in which the transport arrived.

  Red copper buildings lined the dirt streets that were peppered with merchants and swindlers. Many noticed the small-framed girl of eleven. Some even pointed at her peculiar walking stick, which they’d seen before, but could not place why she had it. Some surmised that she must have stolen it, but none made any attempt to ask or stop her.

  The only slight inconvenience was when she approached the dahff-rider station. She handed paper money—wet and crumpled, but still good local currency—to a man on a dahff (an animal that looked like the offspring of a horse and an ostrich) and stated where she wished to go. The man, more lizard than Human, gave the girl a discerning look, which was then given to the walking stick. Ula did not waver. She repeated herself, telling the man her destination and presenting the currency more insistently.

  Eventually, the rider took the money and jerked his neck to beckon her. Ula hopped on the back half of the saddle that sat upon the dahff, placing the walking stick on her lap and grabbing onto the saddle’s rear strap. It was a long, silent ride. It took her far from the city, but only a slight distance from civilization.

  Past the cities with the tiny, red buildings, over hill upon hill, and mile after mile of grassland, they came upon huts: tall, brown huts made of sticks and draped blankets. In their center was a large, sprawling campfire to protect from the cold and the wind. Several such encampments were clustered over the grassland. Ula’s awe was interrupted when the dahff stopped.

  The beast slowly lowered itself, and the rider turned to the girl. He waved his hand at her, shooing her away. When she didn’t understand after the first few tries, the rider attempted the same motion with both hands.

  When Ula realized he would go no further, she dismounted and watched the rider meander away. She walked, carefully minding her speed so as not to look aggressive. When she got closer, the girl took her walking stick and held it high in the air. Ox’s staff revealed itself in all its fury. After some of the inhabitants came out of their huts, Ula dropped her hood completely.

  They were Waykind: large, muscular, wide-eyed, and slow-moving. They wore large ponchos made of some kind of leather. Most of them stayed back, but one made its way toward the girl.

  She was blonde-furred, pink-skinned, and blue-eyed. She approached, using her knuckles to aid in her speed. The large Waykind placed a hand on the staff, careful not to take it from Ula. “You must be Ula.” She smiled calmly as the staff translated. “The one you call ‘Ox’ follows this staff, as his parents follow him.”

  Ula said nothing. Her eyes were wide.

  “You have done us a great service, returning this to us.” The Waykind placed her other hand on the Herulean’s shoulder. “Would you like to learn how to use it?”

  Jupiter Proximity:

  Government Building 17C

  Gally Ramone’s high-heeled shoes clicked upon familiar linoleum at their usual quick pace. Having returned from bereavement leave and a long vacation, she found a different feel to her old workplace. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but it felt like meeting an old work acquaintance for lunch: good to see, but a tad uncomfortable to stay around.

  As she walked, she heard the televisions in the background talking about the cleansing of Sabile, and how the effort was a quick, clean sweep-up. There was no mention of Purple Company, or of the doctors; nor was there any mention of automaton involvement. All of those things were considered top secret and dealt with accordingly.

  She approached a very familiar door, though two new men were standing guard, and knocked on it. “Come in,” a voice answered, sternly. Col’po, wearing the top of his fur differently, smiled widely to see Gally come through the door. “Ah! Come in, my dear, come in.” He ushered a stubby hoof. “Shiela was just leaving,” he suggested. The woman currently at his desk gave Gally an unimpressed look as she walked by, more than a little bitter at being dismissed.

  He waited a moment for the door to close, and they looked at each other with small smiles. “It’s good to see you back. How was your vacation?”

  Gally shrugged with one shoulder. “You know me; I get bored.”

  Col’po nodded as he looked down. “And I’ve been selfishly using that to my own benefit.” She shook her head and started to protest, but was interrupted. “Now, I know, you didn’t get exactly what you wanted out of that business on Sabile.” His thick hands waved in the air, as if Sabile were sitting right behind him. “But you did well, and people noticed.” Gally looked more serious, realizing where Col’po was going. “And as much as I’d hate to see you go….” He slid a tablet in front of her.

  The tablet gave details of a job description. It was a new one, a better one: Director of Reconnaissance, Group 35. Her eyes were wide. “You’d have to wear a uniform every day. And you’d report to Geoff Motley, who is just awful, but–” he paused, looking up at her. “It’s where you belong.”

  “You won’t miss me too much?” She was fighting back tears.

  Col’po laughed. “That’s the whole point; I’ll miss you here because you belong there.” She got up and shook his hand. She went to speak again, but was interrupted by a knock at the door.

  The person did not wait for permission to enter; he simply ran in. If he waited for permission to enter at every door, his job would never get done. And he entered with that mentality. “Sorry to interrupt.” H
e was thin, short, and in a perpetual hurry. He used his hands to punctuate nearly every word. “But there’s an unauthorized vessel requesting permission to land. He is insisting that you authorized him, but I can’t find any record of that. Can you confirm?”

  Yet another tablet was handed to Gally. She looked at this one, and the screen caused her to give a very different kind of smile.

  Jupiter Proximity:

  Landing Pad 2

  He pretended he hadn’t spent several nights with just her on his mind. He pretended that he hadn’t been looking forward to this moment for six months. And most of all, he pretended not to hold himself back when he saw a very frail, kind of lanky figure walking his way on the landing pad.

  It wasn’t like before, and that was felt by both of them. This was quieter, warmer. When she was close enough, Harper spoke first. “I like your hair,” he said, thinking she’d done something different.

  “Thanks. So, this is what it’s like all the time.” She lifted a hand, palm up, and showed it to him.

  Harper nodded and smiled. “When you’re not vacationing on Sabile.”

  “Exactly.” She grinned before realizing that she’d got rather close to him, standing a few inches apart. “They just offered me a promotion for that whole mess.”

  Harper looked impressed. “Really? You gonna take it?”

  Her eyebrows dropped, losing their casualness. It was one of the first times she’d ever talked about herself to him. “I don’t know,” she mused with a higher-pitched voice, scratching the back of her neck. “I want, uhm…” she paused. “I want to be in a place where—” She paused again, turning a bit red. “I’d be easy to find. Should someone decide to visit,” she hinted.

  Harper smiled. “Well, I was able to afford some upgrades, thanks to you.” He looked back at his medium-sized black vessel. “I think I’ll be around.”

  She smiled, and the silence grew for a moment, but only for a moment.

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah.”