Gunship - The Series

by John Davis

  Never mind the fact that she sat at a table with another female and two men wearing the Colonial uniform, or that it wasn't true love. In Dalton's mind a casual glance from the end of an alcoholic beverage was true enough.

  “Sit tight buddy, and watch the master work.” Dalton told Steiner as he slowly got up from his stool, patting his much larger Husk friend on the back for a brief moment before attempting to walk into the woman's direction.

  His lack of speed was a direct effect of the workload he had recently placed into his bloodstream, still he managed to stagger with swagger as he eventually made it to his destination.

  Preparing for the show, Steiner turned to watch the events unfold, a frothy glass of house brew in his oversize hand. Quickly, he realized how he and Dalton viewed the world through different lenses. How the young lady looked very happy with the group she sat with, not to mention the fact that she was far from being even decently attractive.

  “Excuse me miss. Care to join me for some fine wine and casual sex?” Dalton asked blatantly, causing an immediate look of disgust to fall across the woman's face as he reeked of anything but fine. “What? You don't like wine?” Dalton added, confused at being shot down on one of his best pickup lines.

  It had worked so many times before, granted most of them were not that easy on the eyes, in fact they were slumming it at best according to his standards. Still, at his age, getting turned down using his best line made him begin to question if he still had charm.

  Both Colonial soldiers stood to their feet abruptly, one of them calling Dalton a string of words that would scar a child's ears for life, prompting Steiner to stand to his feet as well, the over abundance of muscular tone that was all too common with the Husk race was ever intimidating.

  “Sit down big man, I got this,” Dalton said loudly, turning to Steiner as he motioned him to sit and let things unfold without his intervention. “While you're at it, order me another drink. One with the pretty umbrellas.” he added.

  As Dalton began to turn back, the Colonial soldier who had cursed him only moments ago, struck him across the face with a hooking punch, knocking him onto a nearby table and slinging several drinks onto the floor beneath it.

  “You son of a bi..” Dalton began to reply, before the second Colonial soldier kicked him in the ribs solidly, knocking the air from the drunken warrior's lungs.

  Dalton tried to yell for help from Steiner, extending his hand in a begging fashion as he fought to catch his breath. Steiner remained calm, drinking slowly from his glass as he watched the master at work. Scooped up and thrown several feet, Dalton landed on one of the nearby tables, clearing everything from the top as it followed him to the floor, crashing all around him like a glass filled grenade.

  Slowly standing to his feet, he finally responded with a thrashing punch of his own to the face of one of the attackers, followed by a punishing kick to the stomach of the other.

  At least that was his intention, but with things blurred extensively because of the night's binge drinking and beating, he wasn't convinced he had even hit the right two men. Standing there for a moment, trying to get his bearings straight, he randomly sucker punched one of the customers who had been sitting at the now flattened table.

  First on the scene, two Glimmerian warrant officers raced through the door of the large bar, quickly flattened by a sweeping elbow from Steiner, who had watched his friend endure enough. Dalton staggered behind the bar, looking deviously at the coward bartender for a moment as he began pouring a large glass of whiskey, the tall glass nearly emptying the entire bottle before it topped off.

  “And I want a fuckin' umbrella.” Dalton slurred loudly, pulling one of the neon umbrellas from another patron's drink and placing it in his glass of whiskey.

  Moments later, he and Steiner were standing at the end of Colonial rifles held by warrant officers of their own military.

  “Well, I guess we're cut off.” Dalton remarked softly as both men were escorted out in hand restraints to be processed at a local holding facility.

  Adam and Sarah sat in illustrious surroundings as they ate one of the finest dinners he had ever seen, the type of establishment that was usually reserved for those in high political position and the absolute wealthy. Tonight was different however, tonight was the turning point in his life, the defining moment of his soul. With nearly eighty people eating in the large ballroom of red velvet and stained wood finish, Adam stood to his feet for a moment, drawing Sarah's immediate attention as he softly placed his thick red linen napkin onto the table before taking a place beside her on one of his knees.

  “Sarah,” Adam said with truth and integrity of the heart. Her eyes exploded with emotion, filled with both tears and emotional connection as she stared at Adam, hanging on his every word. “The moment I met you, I became a different person. What you've taught me is that I have always been this person deep down, I have lived my life, destined to get to this very moment. You bring out all of the best in me, without you I would be a broken man, both heart and soul. I am asking you from the bottom of this thing inside my chest that beats uncontrollably when you are near if you would do me the honor of being my wife?” Adam asked as the entire ballroom full of citizens looked on.

  “Yes, of course!” Sarah replied without hesitation.

  Everyone started clapping quietly as Adam rose to his feet slowly and embraced Sarah into his arms, kissing her as deeply as the concentration of stars that filled the night sky. After several minutes of affection, the waiter slowly walked over to give Adam the news of his friends checking into lockup. Not the first time Adam had bailed Dalton out of jail, but to have to put such a magical evening on hold to do it should be a felony within itself.

  “It's alright Adam, let's go get our boys out of lockup and spend the rest of the night planning the first day of the rest of our lives together.” Sarah said softly.

  He nodded, although he planned on giving both Dalton and Steiner a damn good ass chewing when and if he could actually talk the Colonials into releasing them. As they began leaving the confines of the lavish restaurant, everyone once again clapped softly to let them know they had been touched to be a part of such a magical moment.

  “What the hell is your problem?” Dalton asked Steiner as both men stood in a small holding cell, Dalton pacing a path in front of the door while Steiner stood in a rear corner.

  “Just watching the master at work.” Steiner replied with heavy sarcasm. Before Dalton could answer with a small piece of his self proclaimed infinite wisdom, they both recognized footsteps approaching.

  “You have a visitor.” a well dressed and lightly armed Colonial soldier said to Dalton.

  “About damn time, hell Adam's usually here to pick me up long before now.” Dalton said with relief as Steiner slowly approached the front of the cell. Rather than seeing his longtime friend walking up to the cell, the young woman from the bar cautiously approached.

  “The master son. Don't forget it.” Dalton said softly as if to pour salt into the wounded pride of Steiner before pausing to grab his brown coat and fluff it a bit.

  Several hours had passed, which were filled with lies, bedroom eyes and the aftermath of barroom lust between Dalton and the young woman. Never asking her name, it was his belief that a woman's name just complicated things unnecessarily, especially through the steel bars of lockup.

  It was a bittersweet feeling for Kelly. Troy had been lucky enough to find a stable home on Glimmeria with a family that would love and care for him deeply. Still, like the rest of the Gunship crew, she had grown to love and care for him deeply as well. He would be safer here however, there was a raging war that would soon enough reignite only a few miles away.

  She was quickly reminded of that as she stepped outside of the housing unit onto the crowded urban street as a full squadron of Swordfish jets flew overhead. She couldn't wait to catch a transport and get back to the arms of Lassiter, having come to feel a comfort and peace around him that she had never known, a fe
eling that only true love can bring.

  She never made it back. Standing respectfully as only a Colonial soldier could, she felt a sharp piercing band of lead cut through her chest. Her first reaction was to draw her sidearm, maybe the Legion invasion had began? As she slowly turned, her sidearm shaking roughly while her body fought to remain alive, a second shot hit her chest only inches below the first, the muzzle flash of Draco's sniper rifle alerting her to his position in a second story window. Moments later she died, falling soundly onto the streets below.

  Draco tossed a large golden coin out of the window, landing near her lifeless body. A Glimmerian coin that had been out of mint since the day they had lost the first war to the Legion, his calling card to Adam Michaels.

  Several hours later Adam and Sarah were the first to join the Colonial investigators at the scene of the shooting. Visibly shaken by the body of someone who he had looked at as a little sister, someone he felt compelled to look after, Adam trembled uncontrollably as Sarah held his hand and tried to convince him that there was nothing he could have done to help her. It wasn't his fault. Or was it?

  Adam spotted the golden coin laying near her body, immediately recognizing it and deciding there was a huge problem. The coins were only issued to a limited number of Glimmerians nearly a decade ago, a special group, the group he fought beside. His unit. He quickly realized that Kelly had died because of him, as would everyone else around him unless he could somehow find a way to protect them, like he should have been there to protect her.

  “Kelly,” Lassiter screamed as he sprinted across the street and fell on his knees trying to revive the lifeless body of his lover. “Get off of me!” he added as Adam grabbed him, both arms clinched around Lassiter as he drug him away from her body unwillingly.

  “She's gone.” Adam said softly as Lassiter cried uncontrollably.

  The Colonial jailer escorted Adam down the corridor, the striking of their boots against the stone tiled floor making their presence immediately known.

  “About fucking time. You forget about us or something?” Dalton asked arrogantly as the cell door opened.

  Without a word, Adam simply turned and grabbed Dalton firmly by the front of his brown coat, picking him up a few inches from the ground and holding him against the cold brick wall. Exchanging nothing more than deep stares, it quickly became obvious to Dalton that his friend was a different person than he was only hours before.

  “Get your fucking hands off of me!” Dalton yelled as Adam dropped him and loosened his grip. Steiner quickly intervened, easily holding Dalton at bay as Michaels looked onto both of them for several moments with the eyes of a man hellbent on revenge.

  A few painstaking days had passed before Adam found himself standing under the large canopy surrounded by friends as a Colonial priest spoke words before committing Kelly's body to the ground. The only sounds that kept the entire funeral from seeming like a dream were the shots from Colonial rifles as the twelve soldiers fired them into the air in unison. Adam watched Lassiter deal with the loss of someone he couldn't manage to live without, he felt for the young man as he tried to imagine losing Sarah Blaine the same way. The thought of it was unbearable.

  After the service and departure of a majority of those in attendance, Adam gathered his crew.

  “We have a problem. The person who shot Kelly, left this.” Michaels said, holding the gold coin up as the sunlight shimmered across it.

  “Bullshit, ain't no way Adam. Those coins were specific to our platoon back in the first war. I should know, I dropped hundreds of them at every bar on this fuckin' rock,” Dalton replied.

  Adam answered only with a dedicated stare. “I'd say we do got a problem then, a big fucking problem.” Dalton added, feeling Adam's sense of urgency.

  “Whoever did this is coming for Dalton or myself, maybe both of us. The marksmanship and weapon they used to kill Kelly lets me know that none of you are safe. From this moment forward, nobody goes anywhere alone. Nobody.” Adam added to the conversation.

  “Steiner. You and Lassiter will stay with Dalton at all times. Pack plenty of firepower and stay indoors as much as possible. If they used a sniper rifle the first time, chances are they plan on striking again from a distance,” Michaels said. “Roman, you will be with Sarah and I. Lassiter, I realize this is a very tough time, but I have to ask you to stay focused. Until we catch the person who did this, none of us are safe.” Adam added.

  Lassiter agreed with a nod, still visibly shaken.

  “I know what Kelly meant to you, she was like a sister to me. I will go through the rest of my life blaming myself for not being able to protect her from this, but you have to shake it off for now. Put it on a shelf, the only way we can help her now is by catching the son of a bitch who did this. Understand?” Adam said.

  “Yea, I understand.” Lassiter responded after a long pause.

  As the group split up and walked toward two different Colonial transports, Adam turned to face the others.

  “Dalton, keep your ass out of trouble.” Dalton stopped walking for a moment.

  “Who me? Sure thing, scout's honor.” he replied with a smile before once again joining his group.

  “Dalton used to be a scout?” Sarah asked surprised.

  “No, he didn't. That's what worries me.” Adam replied, drawing a bit of laughter from Roman.

  “Based on the information our spies have given us, the Colonial base is heavily defended. Our forces will take heavy losses on their way to the surface.” a Legion advisor said as Flag Officer Andrews stood for a few silent moments watching his forces staging on a wall mounted grid, his crimson red officer's uniform lined with thick black to match his shoes.

  “We will send the invasion in two waves. Send the mercenaries and newly trained soldiers down in the first wave, let them take the blunt of it. Send the officers, battle tested soldiers and heavy equipment down with the second wave. Have them set up a forward base of operations so we can begin to funnel supplies and reinforcements to the front lines.” Andrews replied.

  “Yes sir. And what of the Hunters?” the advisor asked.

  “Have them wait in orbit with Legion High Command. If the Colonials attempt an early retreat, the Hunters should be able to finish them off easily. If the Colonials dig in, we'll have the Hunters drop down to the surface to reinforce our lines.” Flag Officer Andrews replied.

  “Yes sir!” the advisor responded, immediately ordering his communications officer to relay the message throughout the fleet.

  Andrews stood there for several minutes, admiring the view from the other side of the thick plated glass of the ship's bridge. Dozens of Legion capital ships and cruisers along with three Hunter carriers, all working together as squadrons of Legion fighter jets flew past, running drills in preparation of the upcoming battle.

  “Sir. We've picked up a large fleet broadcasting Legion code in outer orbit of the planet!” one of the grid operators yelled as Commander Edwards walked swiftly toward his station.

  “Set our condition to one, recall all Colonial soldiers and make them fully aware that this is not a drill,” Edwards replied. “They are staging from the looks of it, we still have some time. Order all Mack stations fully loaded and Swordfish and Spartans fueled and standing by. Bring every Goliath unit that we have online.” he added.

  “Yes sir!” the grid operator announced loudly, punching the orders into a computer that would mirror them to every outpost on Glimmeria.

  “Better not be a fucking drill because this is the first time I've ever left a pitcher of beer sitting,” Dalton said angrily as Steiner and Lassiter both had their thoughts on the impending battle rather than Dalton's lust for man drink. “And another thing, they need to find a way around this sweltering fucking heat, I'm already sick of it.” Dalton added sharply as the group quickly left the Colonial bar along with everyone else, the exterior neon sign easily overpowered by the strength of sunlight as they began their walk back to the Command Center.

  H
aving almost made it back, the men continued their slow march as they absorbed Dalton's constant barrage of bitching and moaning. Steiner had intended to let him know that his ranting was beginning to resemble that of a married woman, when the right thigh of the massive Husk warrior was struck with a shotgun blast, immediately putting him down to the ground yelling in agony.

  Draco walked from an alley nearby, firing the second shotgun blast of the double barrel in the direction of Lassiter, barely grazing his back with the hot lead spray as he dropped the emptied weapon and calmly pulled two pistols. Lassiter found refuge behind a parked transport, drawing his combat sidearm and looking several feet down the road, watching a suddenly sober Dalton pull Steiner to the rear of another one of the transports which lined the sides of the city's streets.

  “Adam! Where the fuck are you! We got the shooter a couple of blocks from HQ, we're pinned down and taking fire!” Dalton yelled into his com, throwing it to the ground as he stood to fire a blast from his own short barrel shotgun before dropping back down quickly behind cover.

  Dalton's blast was returned with three ringing pistol shots, shattering the window above the head of the roughly bearded man smothered in his favorite brown coat as he sat with his back firmly against the thin steel of the makeshift barricade. As Draco approached the transport, he slowly rounded the front end, Dalton and Steiner easily in his sights. Before he could finish the task, however, his ribs felt the penetrating plunge of a shot from Lassiter's combat pistol.

  The Colonial sniper had recovered enough to go on the offensive just in time to save the life of his friends.

  Dalton aimed his shotgun in the direction of the assassin, but it was quickly brushed to the side as the shot made its way deep into the transport, the steel pellets scattering in a circular design as they embedded themselves into the thin steel and aluminum. Draco used his second arm to throw a hooking punch into the face of Dalton who crumpled at the bottom of the transport and laid motionless as Lassiter had began closing in on the Benzan contract killer.