Gunship - The Series

by John Davis

  He was calm enough, in fact he was impressed. A woman who knew her weaponry, could hold her own with words and had a undeniable beauty throughout her entire body. Not the textbook definition, Roman never had a need for that type of woman, they were much too weak for his taste.

  Sure, she could have easily worn the clothes of a princess and blended well with the title. However, he thought she had a more gritty perfection about her, she could handle herself well in a fight, this much Roman knew the moment she walked from the ship for the first time. She was the first woman in a very long time who had gained his respect.

  “If they so much as move the wrong way, shoot them.” Oz said to Sasha as the two men began to buckle their flight harnesses.

  “Get this fucking rope off of me.” Draco said demandingly as Sasha quickly used Roman's blade to do so, sliding the steel between his wrists and the thick rope, which fell into pieces like a child's toy as she gave a simple upward thrust of the knife. Both Adam and Roman sat there, amazed at a woman who knew her steel well.

  At the moment his bonds were no more, Draco's hand lunged to Sasha's leg, pulling her combat sidearm made of solid black steel and pointing it at the two men. As swiftly as he aimed the weapon, the barrel of Oz's shotgun touched the back of his neck, his tiny hairs standing to attention as the circular design of the barrel commanded respect.

  “No harm is to come to them while they are under safe harbor from Cyrus.” Oz said, holding the shotgun at point blank range.

  “You would shoot me and watch them go free?” Draco asked loudly, surprised by the thought. Oz simply answered his question by pushing on Draco's neck with the shotgun, the unforgiving steel digging into his skin and quickly convincing him to lower Sasha's sidearm.

  “It won't be forgotten my brother.” Draco said sarcastically as Sasha forcefully grabbed her pistol, placing it back into her leg holster.

  “The memories of a man who gets himself caught on a simple hit are of no concern to me.” Oz replied with a touch of sarcasm himself as he strapped into the pilot's seat.

  Only minutes later, Sheriff Barker stood to his feet, his injured hand wrapped as he collected his rifle and watched the Benzan shuttle once again hit Glimmeria's upper atmosphere.

  Although Adam was preoccupied with hoping he and Roman would live to see another sunrise, at the same time he found himself intrigued with Sasha's intoxicating beauty and skills with a weapon. Moments after hitting the thin layer of the planet's atmosphere, his attention was quickly drawn to a small window of the shuttle as they entered space. Legion ships as thick as the sand on Glimmeria's surface bunching together for the invasion to come, as he and Roman both sat silently in awe of the force they would soon be fighting against. Within seconds they both knew that the Colonials were outnumbered at least three to one, and there was no doubt that the invasion was being carefully planned before execution.

  Adam suddenly found himself wanting to be back on the planet's surface, helping his friends prepare for a fight which would surely lead to the death of them all. Meeting with the Benzans to find the person who initiated Kelly's death was deeply important to him, however, she was gone and nothing would ever bring her back. But he still had a chance to inform his friends of the fight to come, maybe talk them out of a battle in which they had no chance of winning and in doing so, save their lives.

  “Hey, check it out.” Lassiter said to both Dalton and Steiner as they began the short journey on foot to the ammunition storage building as ordered, the Husk still moving rather slowly as the soreness of his bandaged right thigh had started to catch up to him.

  “What is it Private Lassiter, I'm a busy man.” Dalton replied, flexing his newly assigned command.

  “Private?” Lassiter replied, amazed at Dalton's newly found dedication to the uniform, not to mention his ability to use the term outside of the bedroom.

  “Didn't see this coming.” Steiner said laughing as Dalton returned the comment with a stern look before noticing what Lassiter had seen only moments ago.

  Glimmeria's citizens had began crowding the streets, cheering the many soldiers who were preparing for the upcoming battle against the Legion. Many of them clapped loudly, while a few of the women had thrown flowers as a sign of respect. In only a few hours they would no doubt be instructed to remain in their homes, preparing as if a disaster was inevitable while forced to huddle around small radios and listen to the progress of the war. Still they welcomed it with open arms, realizing that these soldiers represented a free tomorrow for each and every one of them.

  It was a very emotional moment for all three of the men, leveled by the sight of so many people who were counting on their help to remain free, rather than slaves who would spend the remainder of their days under horrible conditions while doing the Legion's manual labor. Both Lassiter and Steiner secretly wondered if Dalton's stare of concentration was one of gratitude or lust, as he continued glancing for several moments at the flower bearing women with saliva ridden lips as they slowly continued their course to collect ammunition.

  “Looks like this is the place,” Dalton said, several armored skiffs exiting through a huge set of steel bay doors which carried the painted insignia of the Colonials. “Automatic rifles, grenades and as much damn ammunition as we can carry, got it?” Dalton ordered, flashing his Colonial badge to an officer behind a thick steel desk as Lassiter and Steiner both began to join dozens of other Colonials in rummaging through huge wooden crates full of precision weaponry.

  “What the hell is this,” Lassiter asked as he began to laugh, Steiner looking for a moment before shrugging without an answer. “Looks like it belongs in a museum.” he added, tossing the gun back into the direction of the storage bin.

  The beat up wood grain stock of the single shot rifle, instead found its way to the palm of Dalton's hand as he snatched it from the air just moments before it would have been discarded.

  “This, greenhorn, is a Glimmerian Thumper.” Dalton said insultingly as he stroked the weapon with vain intention.

  “And they wonder why the first Glimmerian War was lost.” Lassiter replied with heavy sarcasm of his own.

  “Don't look like much at first glance...” Dalton said as he was interrupted.

  “Actually, I glanced at it three times, and it still looks like a raggedy piece of shit.” Steiner said, bursting into laughter as Lassiter quickly joined him.

  “Laugh it up.” Dalton replied, sliding the thin metal chamber cover open for a second to make sure it was loaded, before sliding it shut forcefully and aiming it to a corner of the warehouse, a quickly created smirk on his face as he fired the weapon.

  Everyone's attention was instantly abducted by the loud pop of the shell jolting from the gun's chamber and slamming into the thick stone corner, rock shrapnel flying several feet as the round exploded with force.

  Still holding his shit eating grin, he turned to the other Colonial soldiers, who had stopped collecting gear to stand and watch. “Say something,” Dalton dared of them as he turned back to his friends. “I don't give a damn what uniform a man is wearing, one of these exploding rounds hits him and it'll ruin his weekend.” he added, smiling so widely that his whiskey scarred teeth made a rare appearance.

  “Report!” Commander Edwards demanded as he leaned over to view the large monitor of one of the many Colonial workstations that was tucked snugly inside of the vault as its alarm rang loudly.

  “Sir,” a lower ranking officer said, standing to his feet to face the commander. “Our grids show the Legion staging area has reached the fringe area of our Mack Cannons.” he added.

  “Good. You have my permission to make them pay for their first mistake of the day. Start pounding the son of a bitches out of the sky.” Commander Edwards said sharply, ordering the first shot of the battle as he glanced around the room for a moment to admire such a group of loyal Colonials.

  Only a few moments later, everyone on Glimmeria's surface heard the first shot fire. The large, pounding hollow burst
of one of the Mack cannons illuminated the sunset filled sky for a moment, sending dedicated lead screaming into outer orbit. Everyone on the street stopped to watch as the city's fallout siren began blaring with painstaking volume, a mask of silence falling onto the city as everyone began to get indoors as quickly as possible. It had begun.

  Three more thumping blasts fired in unison, this time panic and screaming overtook the city as everyone both Glimmerian and Colonial began to quicken the pace of whatever they were doing, sprinting for either safety or the nearest military outpost.

  “Ahh shit,” Dalton said in a dedicated tone of voice, upset that they had not had the adequate time required to fetch a full array of weaponry. “Grab the whole damn crate, we 'aint got time for bullshittn'.” he added, Lassiter and Steiner looking at each other and both quickly coming to the solid conclusion that Dalton had been the only one bullshitting.

  Steiner easily pulled his end of the huge crate from the floor, his hulking arms barely straining as he hoisted his half to waist level, strength in full supply.

  Meanwhile, Lassiter struggled with the other end, repositioning himself several times and trying to find the easiest spot to grab hold of. Finally managing to pull his end off of the floor a bit, doing everything he could to keep it raised at the height of his knees and punishing his back in the process while the rest of his body shook slightly from the immense weight.

  “Let's go private, cowboy the fuck up.” Dalton ordered, walking quickly outside carrying nothing more than the badly scarred Thumper and leaving the men to follow slowly. Lassiter doing his absolute best to convince himself not to drop the crate of weapons and begin pistol whipping the arrogant man in command.

  A few transports zoomed by them before Dalton saw an opportunity present itself, walking in front of the large flatbed truck and holding his newfound rifle in the face of its driver.

  “Need this vehicle, official Colonial business.” he said brashly.

  “But...but I'm not Colonial.” the Glimmerian stated, obviously shaken. Rather than give a reply, Dalton simply pulled the ready pin back on the weapon which led to the driver jumping out of the transport as if his clothes were on fire.

  “Aight' boys, throw it in the back,” Dalton ordered, Lassiter barely able to continue walking, much less throw it anywhere with the additional weight of the crate pulling his frame within a foot of the ground. “Hey, where the hell do you think you're going?” Dalton asked, pointing the gun back at the Glimmerian driver and then flicking the barrel in the direction of his struggling Colonial mate.

  Outraged at the idea of not only having his transport stolen red handed, but having to help the thieves load their belongings was unheard of in the man's opinion. Of course, opinions don't mean a damn thing when you have a long barrel rifle pointed in your face.

  Moments later the man helped Lassiter with his side of the crate, finally lifting it onto the flat bed well enough to appease their ranking officer.

  “Thanks bud.” Dalton said with gratitude as the man simply told him to fuck off in native Glimmerian and walked away. “When this war is over, you're hitting the gym little man.” Dalton said to Lassiter, which would almost have certainly started a fight if the Colonial sniper could have walked upright.

  Driving the vehicle only a couple of traffic congested blocks, Dalton leaned out as he spotted a small Colonial assault team setting up a defensive barricade on the corner.

  “Hey you. Take this group to the Colonial Command Center on orders from Commander Edwards, get inside and await further instruction.” Dalton said loudly, trying to vocally overpower the blasts from the Mack stations which had now become nonstop.

  “Yes sir!” the squad leader yelled, sprinting for the command center, his eight man squad tucked in closely behind him.

  “Get the lead out, it's about to be on!” Dalton added.

  “Double time it!” an impatient Dalton yelled to Steiner and a nearly crippled Lassiter as they had resorted to dragging the crate from the parked vehicle's location into the command center. Opting to pull a small flask from his brown coat and consume a great deal of the contents, Dalton gritted his teeth from the burn before looking into the sky to see the beauty of distant death. The Mack shots streaming as well as the thruster burns of hundreds of Colonial and Glimmerian fighter ships lit up the early night sky as if it were one big fireworks exhibition.

  “Sir, early reports indicate several direct hits on medium size Legion ships in orbit. Still no indication of return fire.” one of the Colonial officers stated as Commander Edwards stood with Sarah Blaine, dozens of high ranking officers checked data from all of the monitors throughout the room.

  “There won't be any return fire. We are hitting troop ships, they intend to take heavy losses in exchange for getting Legion boots on the surface.” Sarah said.

  “She's right. Contact all Colonial outposts within the city, tell them to be prepared to cut off the power grid and have every rail gun they have go to standby.” Commander Edwards ordered as the officer began to relay the message to every military building in the city.

  “I'm not getting a great feeling about this.” Roman said as he sat with Adam at a huge table made of solid glass inside of a heavily wood trimmed room on board the Benzan base ship. It was a smaller, cruiser size ship, but they had seen plenty of effective cannons on its exterior when the shuttle was boarding. They both had little doubt that the Benzan ship, although a small one, could hold its own against any Colonial or Legion base ship if needed be.

  “Relax. If they would have wanted to kill us, they could have done it as soon as we boarded the shuttle.” Michaels replied as the security coded door quickly opened.

  “Adam Michaels I presume,” Cyrus said, entering the room with Oz closely by his side. “I must admit, I'm surprised that you would have the testicular fortitude to ask for a meeting with someone in charge of a family that has such, well, questionable notoriety,” Cyrus said curiously. “My question is why?” he added, sitting down at the table in front of both men while Oz remained standing.

  “Your assassin killed a young lady that was a member of my crew. Not only that, but she was like a sister to me.” Adam replied.

  “Yes, Draco informed us of the kill, for the record, I am sorry for your loss. She was collateral damage from what I understand.” Cyrus replied.

  “Under normal circumstances, I would have buried your knuckle dragger in the desert and been done with it, but these are not normal circumstances.” Adam replied.

  “No. No, indeed they are not. You are a guest on my ship, at my mercy and alive right now only because I have allowed it to be so.” Cyrus replied, letting Adam know that he was in control of the meeting.

  “I understand, and I respect the fact that you are a man of your word. My quarrel is not with you, or anyone aboard this ship. Just the person who ordered my execution and in turn led to Kelly being assassinated.” Michaels replied.

  “I see.” Cyrus said.

  “I want to know who it was, so I can cut out the middle man and either end his life or my own in trying to do so.” Adam replied.

  Cyrus stood to his feet quickly, momentarily startling both Adam and Roman as they remained seated.

  “Adam Michaels, walk with me for a few minutes,” Cyrus asked as Roman looked at his friend as if to talk him out of it. “I am a man of my word, do not worry,” Cyrus replied. Adam slowly stood to his feet, skeptical of the Benzan's intentions but seeing no other choice. “Hold him here until I get back.” Cyrus said as Oz nodded, his gun remaining in the direction of Roman Raines.

  “I like you Adam Michaels, it seems as though your heart is in the right place, and on top of that you have zeal,” Cyrus said as they exited the room, slowly walking side by side. “It's because of this that I am about to share some privileged information with you, information that only a handful aboard this ship themselves know.” Cyrus said as he stopped to look over the edge of a very long catwalk of glass which was positioned directly in fr
ont of a huge shatterproof window looking out into space. “I can give you this information, along with the name of your killer, but before I do, you must agree to remain on this ship until the battle on Glimmeria's surface has begun.” Cyrus said, turning to look at Adam as he awaited a reply.

  “What? My friends are down there this very minute preparing to be invaded. They are counting on me to join them.” Adam replied.

  “Join them in what, Death?” Cyrus responded. “Take a look at the armada that the Legion is staging outside Adam. You and I both know that the Colonials have absolutely no chance of victory here. Your friends will be wiped out inside of a week.” he added.

  “Maybe, but they are the closest thing to a family that I have,” Adam replied, gaining the full attention of Cyrus with those very words. “You have to try and understand, I would rather risk my life to try and save them than to live and watch them die from a distance.” he added.

  “Interesting.” Cyrus said, turning back to the thick shatterproof glass which separated them from the stars. “Alright Adam Michaels. You agree to remain on this ship until the Legion launches their forces. In return, I will personally send you with a crew of my best down in a shuttle to rescue those you speak so highly of. You have my word.” Cyrus added.

  Adam stood there for several moments, trying his best to think the decision through clearly before turning to the head of the Benzan family. “Deal.”

  “The man you seek is not a man at all, he's a Hunter named Anwick.” Cyrus said before pausing.

  “FUCK,” Adam shouted, putting his fist against his forehead slowly as his knuckles began to turn red from the squeezing of his clinched fist. “I had that son of a bitch in the sights of my gun and let him go. Kelly would still be here,” he added as his eyes began to tear a bit with both sadness and anger. “He's fucking dead!” Adam yelled, throwing his fist down as rage began to consume him.

  “Indeed. At least he will be if our upcoming meeting ends poorly. It was recently decided among the Benzan family that we will sever all ties with the Hunter tribes. It was an agreement that we were forced into, and it's one that my people simply have had enough of. We are not the murdering mafia that we have been labeled, and any kind of arrangement with the Hunters only strengthens that stereotype of our people. I have asked Anwick to meet with me so I can deliver the news face to face,” Cyrus said, pausing to look through the large window that held back deep space. “There is a good chance it will not end well for one of us. It was bound to happen eventually though, the two toughest kids in the school yard fighting,” Cyrus replied. “Which is why I need you to remain on this ship.” he added.