Gunship - The Series

by John Davis

  It seemed strange, Lassiter giving orders to the leader of the Colonials. However, he was concerned for Sarah's safety and she was aware of the fact, though she had no clue of his mounting feelings for her.

  “Just find Adam before they do.” Sarah replied.

  “Don't worry my lady, if he's there we'll find him.” Lassiter responded as he sat directly in front of the mighty Husk warriors who were prepared to fight to the death for Sarah Blaine.

  Arch City was located on the small but highly populated planet of Gali, known for its upscale living conditions, high priced fashion and modern technology. None of that appealed to Sarah Blaine, instead she only prayed that Adam Michaels was here and that he was safe. Of course, she wanted so badly for him to forgive her. Possibly give her a second chance at the storybook romance they once shared, but her love for him was the unconditional kind. Even if he refused to speak to her again, she just wanted him safe, wanted him happy.

  Sarah had always been taught that she was in control of her own life, her own destiny. Which is why this was so hard to deal with. She couldn't control her heart's longing for Adam Michaels, it simply wasn't an emotion that could be turned on and off with the push of a button. In fact, nothing about the events which were about to unfold gave her any control. She was helpless. Was Adam alright? Would he forgive her and possibly give her another chance? It was all taking a huge toll on her emotionally, and none of it was to be controlled or decided by her. Instead, she could only pray for his safety and plead for his forgiveness.

  “Sir. You better let us take the lead on this. If the Hunters have an elite in their ranks it may take all of us to bring him down.” one of the Husk said with reserve as the human Colonial soldiers looked at one another. It was a staggering thought, anything taking all of the mighty Husk warriors to kill.

  “Well enough, but I will be right behind you with my Colonial team. The Hunters do not intimidate me.” Lassiter replied proudly.

  “Ever see a Hunter Elite?” the Husk asked.

  “Not up close, why?” Lassiter asked. The Husk remained silent as they began checking their weaponry for several tense moments.

  “Just let us take the lead. They are not to be taken lightly.” the Husk finally replied.

  “We are hitting the upper atmosphere now sir, should be on top of Arch City within minutes.” the Colonial pilot said as he turned to Lieutenant Lassiter for a moment.

  “Circle the city low and try to locate the Benzan shuttle. We'll have eyes on the ground looking for any signs of Hunters.” Lassiter replied.

  “Yes sir.” the pilot responded, turning to bring Tigon Twelve down low and begin looking for the shuttle's identification number and description.

  Zane slowly walked down the corridor of narrow steel and aged plating as gunshots rang out in the distance. “Just keep your eyes peeled open and if we find them leave Roman for me.” he said in a low voice which was answered by silent nods as all three men held riot style shotguns out in front of them.

  Hearing footsteps, the men stopped and crouched to a knee in wait of what enemies might be ahead. Moments later, two Gali prison guards turned the corner, each with a repeater gun in hand. The Gali repeater was a semi-automatic rifle that fired hollow point shells, though the stock of the weapon was short. Best suited for close quarter combat, the well trained guards preferred them in the event of a prison uprising or riot.

  Zane and his men stood up, quickly firing bursts from their shotguns as one prison guard immediately fell to his death. The remaining was hit in the leg, falling as he returned fire. The shots fired from his repeater easily cut through both flesh and bone, dropping one of Zane's men and chewing into the plated steel wall behind him. The injured guard tried to crawl back around the corner, blind firing his repeater while doing so. Seconds later Zane stood over him, smiling slightly before burying a shotgun blast into the guard's face at point blank range.

  “Grab their weapons and let's head back. We go much farther and we are liable to run into a nest of the bastards.” Zane said as they collected the weapons and key cards from the fallen guards, both Roman and Quinton watching from the rafters nearby.

  Their plan was to climb down from the steel beams which held the ship intact shortly after Zane and his remaining henchman had turned back, however additional Gali prison guards arrived before they were able to put the plan into action. Checking their dead, they soon gave chase themselves, a total of eight soldiers carrying the deadly repeater rifles.

  “What now?” Quinton asked quietly as both men waited a few minutes before slowly climbing down onto the steel deck of the ship.

  “Now we work on making our way to the landing bay.” Roman said steadfast as he checked both corners of the short and narrow hallway.

  “Gonna be hell taking it, Zane is likely to be expecting us to try.” Quinton remarked.

  “Zane's got it all figured out. Except for the fact that my hands have killed more men than his eyes have seen. He has no idea what I'm capable of when I'm pissed off.” Roman replied.

  “And let me guess my brother, you're pissed off right about now?” Quinton asked. His question was simply answered with a stare that he had only seen Roman give a few times before. Indeed...he was pissed off.

  “They left nothing behind.” one of the Hunter Elites said as Vladris helped him search through everything. The third elite had suffered several gunshots and was sitting in the floor near the bed of the room, grimacing with pain.

  “I know where they are heading. At least I will.” Vladris said, holding the receiver of a tracking module in his hand, the glow of pulsing red running through it. “I just want to know who were are dealing with,” Vladris added, turning to his wounded brother who sat in the floor. “Will you make it?” he asked. “In time. The gunshots were dead on but I will heal.” the Hunter Elite replied, doing his best to stop the bleeding of a nearly foot wide hole that gaped into his chest.

  The elite knights possessed the ability to heal quickly, tissue regeneration only one of many Hunter traits. They were damn hard to kill, and the elite sitting in the floor with a grin of pain had four gunshots attesting to the fact.

  Their voices were easily heard by the approaching Colonial strike team, which walked with light steps into the direction of the room. Its door stood wide open, bloody footsteps leading them from the carved bodies of both Stage and Primal to their current location. The Husk gently pulled the blades from their backs, slowly bringing them to a ready and hoping not to alarm the Hunter Elites. They had no such luck. Vladris heard the silent but distinguishable sound of steel sliding against leather as the Husk unsheathed their blades.

  “At arms!” Vladris yelled, though one of his elites was in no condition to fight. Both Vladris and his battle ready soldier pulled their blades with just enough time to meet the Husk on even terms, steel clanging against steel as every one of the warriors fought for survival.

  Hunter Elites were the top of the food chain. That said, Husk were damn worthy opponents and in numbers they were slayers of Hunters, no matter the breed. The elite who continued battling previous gunshot wounds slowly made his way to the same fire escape Adam's group had used to flee less than an hour before. A Hunter Elite fleeing was practically unheard of, but catching the sight of a full strike team led by Goliaths in the hallway, the demons knew there was no victory to be had.

  “Get him to the shuttle!” Vladris yelled. “We will track them from the air!” he added loudly, motioning his able elite to pull the injured out of the window and onto the fire escape.

  Meanwhile, Vladris held his Vampiric fashioned blade above his head at a slant, daring the three Husk who circled him to make a move. They knew the dangers of fighting an elite, even with three to one odds the Husk were over-matched. The equivalent of three finely trained attack dogs circling a Lion. What they didn't know, however, was that they stood before the top Hunter Elite. A fact they would soon learn the hard way.

  The first Husk dashed in, his blade thr
usting in front of him. A solid move against most, but not Vladris, who easily slipped past and cleaved his own blade into the shoulder of the beast. The Husk painfully screamed as the small bones of the shoulder area and attached tendons snapped unmercifully. Vladris quickly pulled his warm, salty steel from the Husk flesh, swinging it around and plunging it into the stomach of a second Husk. The beast like warrior immediately dropped his blade, a look of death slowly pasting into his eyes. Only Samuel remained, and he had promised to give his life for Sarah Blaine if need be. He was ready to do just that, though it wouldn't be on this day. Goliaths stormed the room, letting loose a wave of death worthy lead into the direction of a fleeing Vladris.

  Sarah entered with the remainder of the strike team. She wanted to desperately search for Adam, but her first concern was that of a dying warrior. The Husk who had been cut from shoulder to chest sat in the floor, slowly bleeding out as his life flashed before him. Sarah knelt with him, doing her best to comfort the dying beast, an act that only grew stronger the loyalty of the remaining Husk. Never before had he seen such compassion for his kind by a human being.

  Normally the Husk fought beside humans who paid them well and discarded them from thought afterward. Yet Sarah's face told a different story. She cared for the dying Husk as though they were her own children. She was a leader worth dying for, the Colonial cause a noble one and that was reason enough to convince his people to follow her.

  “Rest easy my brother, this is an honorable death. Your attacker will soon join you by my own hands.” the remaining Husk said.

  “Thank you my lady, I will sit with him. You find the one you love.” the Husk said with great respect.

  “Is he?” Sarah asked.

  “No, he's not here. They were though.” Lassiter replied.

  “How do you know?” Sarah asked with hesitation. Lassiter held up a half empty bottle of rock whiskey, the preferred drink of Dalton James.

  Sarah began to laugh a bit, relieved at least that they were alive and well.

  “How will we find them now?” she asked, looking to Lassiter for some kind of comforting answer.

  “I overheard one of the Hunters say they would track them using a location device. The same kind of location device I had our men plant on the Hunter's shuttle before we entered the hotel.” Lassiter replied with a grin, holding a small receiver with a luminous blue glow.

  Sarah breathed a bit easier, knowing eventually she may once again lay eyes on Adam Michaels and simply nodding to Lassiter for his quick thinking.

  “The bad news is when we do catch up to them, we will be seeing more of the killers who caused such quick death of two Husk warriors. I just hope we have enough firepower to fight them off again.” Lassiter said.

  “You let me worry about that.” the remaining Husk said, approaching them with the blood of his own race on his hands and a look of revenge in his eyes.

  As Lassiter and the Colonial soldiers cleared the hotel room, Samuel helped Sarah to the safety of the doorway.

  “My lady, I am sorry that we failed you.” the Husk warrior said regretfully. Rather than reply, Sarah simply broke down into tears.

  “Sarah are you alright?” Lassiter asked as he hurried back to the room's entrance to find the source of her sadness.

  “These warriors died for me. Died because of my love for Adam, I can't live with that. People are dying because of my mistakes!” Sarah said regretfully as she sobbed loudly.

  “My lady, the Husk and Hunters live to slay one another. If these warriors would not have fallen here, eventually they would have fallen to Hunters somewhere. We are bred for this, to die in battle is the greatest of honors.” Samuel said.

  “At least we know Adam made it out alright,” Lassiter said. Seeing the thought bring comfort to her as she smiled a bit, Lassiter walked closer. “We know they had to leave in a hurry too, not like Dalton to leave good liquor behind,” he said as Sarah began to laugh with emotional relief. “Don't worry, we'll find them soon enough. At least you know Adam's still alive.” Lassiter added. In Sarah's heart she already knew he was alright.

  This was Adam's world, he made a living escaping with his life. He was a smuggler, and a damn good one at that. Her fear would be his unwillingness to even listen to her pleas as she laid her heart out in front of him. She had to be able to convince him of her true sincerity, otherwise Sarah would have to live out the remainder of her life without him. She wasn't sure that was even possible.

  “It's gonna be tough,” Quinton said as both he and Roman stood in the shadows of piping near the prison ship's landing bay. “I'm counting fourteen of 'em, including Zane,” Quinton added. “All abundantly armed and waiting for us to try and take the landing bay.” he added.

  “In other words it's a fair fight.” Roman replied.

  “Yea, something like that my brother.” Quinton replied, smiling a bit as he turned to his fellow terrorist. Before they could put any type of plan into effect, the ship began to shift abruptly.

  “What the fuck?” Quinton asked with shock. “Looks like Zane's men have taken the control room,” Roman replied. “So what's the plan now?” Quinton asked.

  “Same plan. When that prison transport docks, we gotta be sure that we have control of the landing bay. Otherwise we are going to be stuck on this floating jail a lot longer than expected.” Roman replied.

  The two men moved a bit farther back into the shadows as a six man group of Gali prison guards rushed by and immediately opened fire into the direction of Zane and his men. Heavily outgunned, the six guards soon began to fall back, not that it would matter. More of Zane's men flanked their position and cut them to shreds with a hail of gunfire within only minutes. Knowing well enough that there was no chance of winning the fight in front of them, Roman and Quinton both remained in the shadows. The sight of dead prison guards being looted reflected back to the cutting pupils of Roman Raines, who did his best to memorize the face of every murdering bastard before him. Eventually their time would come, and when it did Roman would do his best to make sure he was a part of it.

  “This shit 'aint gonna work Adam.” Dalton said sarcastically as he stood there, dressed in a stolen guard's uniform. It was a snug fit, but manageable. His concern was the fact that they had decked Whiskey out in a guard's shirt as well.

  “Relax.” Adam said as he and Sasha both wore the same uniforms.

  “Relax?” Dalton said in a stunned tone. “How the fuck are we supposed to explain a dog wearing a prison guard's shirt? Hell, the badge on the front is dragging the ground!” Dalton said loudly.

  “Just tell them it's a K-9 unit or something to that effect.” Sasha said, turning to Adam as they both began laughing.

  “I 'aint telling 'em shit. If it looks like they 'aint buyin' it then I'm gonna start shooting.” Dalton replied angrily.

  “Trust me. They are going to smell whiskey on your breath long before they catch a glimpse of the four legged variety.” Adam added as Sasha burst into full blown laughter.

  “Damn smart ass.” Dalton replied, covering his mouth and nose for a moment before blowing to test Adam's theory.

  “Relax, the hardest part will be passing as a prison transport shuttle with Benzan markings all over the outside of our ship,” Sasha said as she began the landing sequence. “I'm shocked they haven't hailed us by now, the landing bay is sitting wide open. May not buy any of this.” she added.

  “They don't have to buy anything for long, we don't have a single prisoner. Just land, look official when you exit and then start letting lead fly. Hopefully catchin' their asses off guard will be enough.” Dalton replied as Sasha guided the ship onto the path of flashing red lights which lay on the prison ship's deck.

  Roman's attention was immediately taken by the sight of the transport shuttle to the left as it began entering the ship's landing bay.

  “When it touches down, wait for the guards to exit the shuttle and then we make a run for it. Kill anything with a heartbeat, but do not stop runnin
g.” Roman said.

  “Got it.” Quinton replied.

  “Wait for them to exit and then spring the trap.” Zane said as he stood with two of his men who were decked out in Gali prison guard outfits, while almost two dozen armed prisoners waited patiently inside of the room which controlled the landing bay doors.

  “Here we go.” Adam said as the shuttle touched down and a mixture of grey steam and smoke blew underneath its frame. Sasha followed Adam out of the shuttle door, walking slowly down the ramp as they skimmed the landing bay with an observant eye.

  “How many did you bring us today?” Zane asked as he approached.

  “Actually we come bearing room for one more.” Adam said quickly, pulling his gold plated pistol of Benzan craftsmanship and firing the first shot with such speed that Zane and his men still had no idea what was happening.

  His shot surgically pierced the shoulder of the man to the left of Zane, rendering him defenseless as lead passed through the backside of the wound. As Zane and his remaining follower pulled their weapons to the ready, Sasha instantly cut Zane's other loyal friend down, her machine gun pistol tearing both cloth and meat as the man fell down in gripping pain. Outnumbered, Zane caught a glimpse of both Roman and Quinton sprinting for the ship from the corner of his anger ridden eye.

  “Now!” he yelled as armed prisoners flooded from the landing bay control room in all directions.

  Looking up to the shuttle entrance, Adam quickly extended his free hand, catching a fully loaded shotgun which had been tossed by Dalton. Nodding his gratitude, Adam turned and began firing shot after shot into the crowd of armed prisoners. Meanwhile, Dalton remained crouched at the entrance of the shuttle with a Benzan bolt action sniper rifle in hand.

  “Take that ya' little bastard.” Dalton mumbled as he fired a steadfast shot which instantly dropped one of the armed men. Whiskey remained near the shuttle's cockpit, waiting until the gunshots ceased and it was clear to leave.