Strange Company

I’ll admit, I went into *Strange Company* expecting another by-the-numbers military sci-fi romp—boy, was I wrong. From the first chapter, Nick Cole throws you into a pressure cooker of bad decisions and worse luck, and the squad’s dynamic is so sharp it feels like eavesdropping on real soldiers. The banter crackles, the tension is palpable, and the action scenes are *visceral*—Cole doesn’t shy away from the ugly realities of combat, from the adrenaline dump to the moral compromises. Christopher Ryan Grant’s narration is the cherry on top: his delivery is packed with personality, nailing the dry wit of the squad’s dialogue and the creeping dread of the planet’s mysteries. His voice for the AI handler, in particular, is chillingly detached, a perfect contrast to the mercenaries’ rough-edged humanity. That said, this isn’t a flawless listen. The middle act drags slightly as the squad navigates the planet’s hazards—Cole leans *hard* into the ‘hostile environment’ trope, and while the body horror is effectively grotesque, it occasionally feels like padding. Also, the corporate conspiracy angle, while intriguing, gets a bit lost in the chaos of survival. But these are minor gripes in an otherwise stellar experience. The final act delivers a punch to the gut, both emotionally and narratively, and the ending lingers like a good whiskey burn. If you love your sci-fi with grit, heart, and a side of existential dread, this is your next obsession. Just don’t blame me if you start side-eyeing your houseplants afterward.