13 Mercs

I’ll be honest: *13 Mercs* frustrated me at first. The opening throws you into the deep end with Priam already wounded, his squad scattered, and the war’s bigger picture deliberately obscured. For the first hour, I kept waiting for the “real” story to start—until I realized *this was the point*. Moon isn’t interested in hand-holding. The disorientation mirrors Priam’s, and once I leaned into it, the payoff was brutal and satisfying. The alien threat isn’t just another Bugger analog; their tactics feel *alien*, from their decentralized command structure to the way they exploit human factions against each other. The mercenary politics, meanwhile, are so cynical they border on dark comedy (the scene where Priam negotiates with a warlord over a half-eaten protein bar is a standout). Berkrot’s performance sells the exhaustion. His Priam isn’t a gravel-voiced action hero—he sounds like a man who’s been chewing on bitterness for years. The supporting cast gets distinct vocal treatments, though a few minor characters blur together in the audio mix during chaotic scenes (a rare misstep in an otherwise stellar production). My biggest critique? The pacing stumbles in the middle during a protracted infiltration sequence that drags where it should snap. But the finale—oh, the finale—delivers a gut-punch twist that recontextualizes everything. This isn’t a book for listeners who need likable protagonists or neat resolutions. It’s for those who want their sci-fi *messy*, *moral*, and drenched in the sweat of desperate choices.