Gunship - The Series

by John Davis

  He was wrong, it wasn't pushing high speeds, and it wasn't a Strikewing, it was his ship, the Gunship! He smiled as wide as he ever had before, his eyes full of tears as the titanium skiff lifted up beside them from the cliff below. Even Roman caught himself tearing up a bit as Troy looked out of the passenger window of the cockpit, sitting beside Kelly as Kato manned a large mini gun that had been mounted to the outside of the crew area. It was vastly smaller ship than the day of its crash landing, still Adam had never seen a more beautiful sight in all of his life.

  The mini gun began to ring out, the tearing flesh of Legion soldiers falling from the bone as they screamed in morbid agony. The first in was Sarah Blaine, who immediately turned to begin firing her combat weapon into the direction of the attacking force. Next, Lassiter climbed in before going prone and using his long range rifle to end a few lives of his own. Adam stood there firing one round at a time, dropping a few Legion faithful before Roman could interject.

  “It's your ship Adam, GO!” he yelled, his chest covered with bloody bandages proving the capable handy work of the Colonial medics. Michaels hesitated for a moment before sprinting to the Gunship to reunite with everyone.

  As Roman and Steiner began to make a run for it, Roman's leg buckled as a bullet passed through, sending him to a knee. Stopping to help him to his feet, Steiner was immediately overtaken by a Fang, jumping on top of him as it tried to rip meat from his skeletal frame. It took four shots from Roman's rifle to get the attention of the beast, who pounced from Steiner to Roman, slicing its claws across his already wounded stomach, as Roman did his best to try and fight back. The gunfire from the ship was enough to hold the Legion guards at bay, but it wasn't possible to get a clean shot on the hulking beast without risking friendly fire.

  “Fuck this!” Kato said, grabbing the Mauler that he had become so comfortable with over the years and jumping down to assist the members of his crew, while Dalton quickly took his place on the minigun. He sprinted to the fight as the Fang thrust his claws into Roman a second time, tearing vital organs and opening a river of blood onto the ground. With Roman defenseless, Steiner swung his machete with every ounce of power in his body, nearly severing the head of the Fang, which combined with several shots from the Mauler, was enough to send the monster to the ground screaming in pain. Steiner quickly hoisted Roman onto his shoulder and sprinted as best he could to the Gunship, Kato clearing a path behind them with the Mauler.

  Reaching the ship, Steiner lifted his fallen friend carefully into the arms of Lieutenant Michaels, who was covered in blood within seconds of the transaction, laying Roman onto the floor of the ship as he frantically tried to stop the bleeding. Steiner looked back as he boarded long enough to see Kato fall to his death, several gunshot wounds leading him to it. A small group of Hunters sealed the deal as they sent nearly a dozen more shells from a pistol into the chest of the fallen hero, who lay dead with Mauler in hand.

  In shock from the events, Kelly trembled in the pilot's seat, thinking of nothing but the death of Kato and the imminent demise of Roman Raines.

  “KELLY, GO!” Adam yelled with no result. “Damn, we gotta go now!” Dalton yelled inside the ship as gunfire ricocheted around him; prompting Sarah to quickly make her way to the pilot's chair, tossing Kelly, who was obviously in shock onto the floor.

  Sarah quickly assumed control of the ship's flight stick, bringing the vessel to a full burn as Dalton shut the exterior door and helped Adam tend to the dying warrior.

  “We've got to catch up to that Colonial Star, otherwise he isn't going to make it!” Adam yelled desperately, trying to stop the internal bleeding of the former Gali commando.

  “He isn't going to make it either way Adam, it would take a miracle.” Dalton said solemnly as the Gunship blazed a trail of neon colored fumes across the sky, hitting orbit as it chased its only hope for a miracle to Glimmeria.

  Gunship II: Glimmeria

  The wind blew steadily through the lush leaves that gave such a buxom appearance to the thick trees behind as Roman stood there, facing the pastel shimmer of the river before him. It was almost a surreal sight, the sky above filled with cotton white clouds moving slowly as he knelt to rub his hand in the dirt of the riverbed, small rocks slipping through his fingers and falling from his battle hardened grasp.

  It had been such a long time since the warrior's eyes had last seen serenity such as was laid out before him at this very moment. Every second that he stood hypnotized by the perfected body of water, he made use of his senses, pulling every small detail into reality. Everything from the birds singing in their melodic language overhead to the sound of the small waves crashing against the front of his boots on the shore. Everything seemed so perfect.

  His attention was immediately broken by movement to his left, a nearing boat full of passengers who stood grouped together on the front deck as it slowly made its way to the edge of the river. Roman's first reaction was to reach for his combat blade, he was a warrior well trained, and any soldier who had seen what his eyes had witnessed through decades of gruesome killing and tasteless wars would be quick to draw a weapon from suspicion. He realized quickly, however, that he was unarmed.

  Unusual for the former Gali commando, but that feeling soon dissipated as Roman began to recognize the faces on the boat that was docking with the river bank in front of him. Some were fallen warriors who had passed away beside him during one of many conflicts through the years, while others were familiar faces of family and close friends long deceased.

  What kind of madness was this? A multitude of things began to run rampant through his mind as he cautiously watched a man step off of the boat, his boots digging firmly into the water drenched sand as he slowly walked directly for Roman. Dressed in official blue, gold buttons holding the jacket closed, the man fit the part of someone who seemed in be in charge of a ferry such as this. As he approached Roman, the commando began calculating self defense tactics in his mind, just in case. He had never laid eyes on the stranger before and wasn't about to let his training go to waste. But there was no time.

  “They are waiting for you Roman.” the calculated man said in a somber voice, obviously referring to the faces aboard the ferry.

  Having decided he had seen enough, Roman began to slowly back away before turning to quicken his pace into the direction of a heavily wooded area nearby.

  “IT'S YOUR TIME!” the ferryboat operator yelled in a demonic voice, grabbing Roman by the upper portion of his arm in an attempt to force him onto the vessel of souls.

  “FUCK YOU!” Roman yelled, pushing the man down onto the ground and quickly turning to run for the thick trees that were only feet away.

  The perfect world of vibrantly painted surroundings soon blended with bright white lights as Roman tried to make sense of things, the birds quickly becoming sounds of advanced medical equipment as he lay on an operating table under nearly a dozen doctors and nurses, the flood of overpowering white lights blinding the man who had cheated death.

  “I've got a pulse!” one of the doctors yelled loudly, as several machines remained attached to the hardened warrior, giving a readout of every vital sign in his body, both the human and the mechanical side.

  Roman let loose a loud shriek of pain that was terrifying for everyone close by, a damn stern reminder of this being the first lifesaving surgical attempt using Goliath parts on a living human being.

  Several hours passed as Adam, Sarah, Dalton and Steiner waited patiently for some official word on their friend. Kelly and Lassiter had offered to watch over Troy, who was still recovering a bit from his injuries at the hands of the savage Husk and was trying his best to adjust to the desert planet of Glimmeria.

  “Lieutenant Michaels,” a doctor dressed in solid white said as he entered the waiting room, Adam immediately jumping to his feet, a standard issue Colonial combat pistol having replaced his trusted revolver in the holster on his side. “Your friend should eventually make a full recovery,” the doctor said, bringing imm
ediate celebration among the crew who sat behind Adam. “We lost him for a couple of minutes, but he came back to us on his own. It's unlike anything that I or any of my colleagues have ever seen. He is one tough man. It will take some time for him to get used to the idea of being half mechanical, however I hope he eventually understands that without the Goliath parts, he wouldn't be alive.” the doctor added.

  “Thank you.” Adam said, shaking the doctor's hand before turning to his crew.

  “This calls for a damn celebration!” Dalton said, hinting to everyone that he needed a drink.

  Glimmeria may have been a desolate place for the most part, but the Colonial forces had sat down in and around Kamira, which was the planet's largest city. Dalton translated that into having drinking locations nearby, and now that he knew Roman was going to pull through, it was all about keeping his self-proclaimed reputation intact.

  “I'm going to stay here, sit with Roman and try to get Troy settled in with a local family.” Adam said.

  The Colonials had recently started to place homeless children with families on Glimmeria, which was a much better fate than they would have had if taken in by Legion forces, which would have amounted to nothing short of forced slavery. After the crushing defeat at the hands of the Legion in Tameca City, there were plenty of children without homes, and even on a large planet such as Glimmeria, placing the children would be a daunting task at best.

  “I'm game.” Steiner said, volunteering to go with Dalton and rage a bit at any of the drinking establishments nearby.

  “Just keep your asses out of trouble, understand?” Adam asked as Sarah slowly placed her arm around his lower back in order to hold him with affection.

  “Yes sir!” Dalton said sarcastically as the idea of playing hide and go seek with full bottles of whiskey danced in his head.

  Having caught one of the Colonial Star ships in a narrow escape was the biggest factor in saving Roman's life. As impressive as it all was, it paled in comparison to the sight of things when Dalton and Steiner left the Colonial hospital and made their way onto the sun scorched streets of Glimmeria's largest city.

  Kamira looked almost as if it were one huge military base now, the outskirts of the city protected by huge underground Mack guns, which were nearly two-hundred yards in diameter and could fire bursts of lead from the surface into space, essentially punching holes through the largest of ships.

  They were protected by Razor turrets, nothing more than a clever term for huge steel towers, each manned by two soldiers that fired a twenty-inch rail gun into the direction of anything that approached the city unwelcome on foot.

  The new Goliath Model Two soldiers patrolled the city streets, having replaced the original units with much thicker armor plating as well as the addition of carrying surface to air missiles. Last but not least, the Colonial Marines. They weren't as feared as the larger Goliath units or weaponry, but in force, they were still the backbone of the Colonial war effort.

  This was literally the last place that the Colonial forces had to go, and they had thrown all of their eggs into a single basket in order to assure the safety of Glimmeria's citizens.

  With everyone in Adam's crew having officially joined the Colonial ranks, they all had sworn the allegiance and wore the uniform. Of course, that didn't stop Dalton from covering his with the brown duster that he had become so used to wearing.

  As much as the rest of the crew dreaded the mere sight of that raggedy ass leather duster that had followed his back so long that it was starting to fall apart at the seams, it was his security blanket, especially when preparing to hammer back as many drinks as he possibly could.

  “Where's the closest pub?” Steiner asked as they stood in the street, the torturing rays of Glimmeria's sun reddening them every single moment of it.

  Two Swordfish fighter jets quickly blew by overhead, drowning out Dalton's response. They were the design of the Glimmarian military, the extra-long nose of the ship as well as the unique ability to hug the ground within a few feet during flight making them virtually undetectable on radar.

  “I dunno, but when we find one, if we see two Swordfish parked out front, somebody's taking an ass whipping.” Dalton said loudly, upset over the intrusion as Steiner mockingly laughed.

  “I think we can all agree that the ones fighting for control of the Skyla System are not the ones who should be in power.” Anwick said as he sat at a large wooden table that was polished to a gleaming shine.

  His teeth filed to a razor sharp point, the dead white pupils of his eyes fixated themselves on his business partner. Two of his toughest escort Hunters sat with him, stark white hair also flowing from their scalps as they remained stone faced and heavily armed. Across the table, three well dressed members of the Benzan Mafia sat, finely pressed suits and ties accented by sunglasses of solid silver.

  “The weak do not concern us. Our only wish is to be left alone, so that we may continue to live in true freedom.” the man sitting in the middle of the Mafia members replied, his lenses reflecting back nothing more than the look of the Hunters to Anwick.

  “True freedom always comes with a price. Always,” Anwick replied calmly. “It's time to weed out the weak and useless from our midst, and that begins with Adam Michaels,” Anwick added, throwing down several sheets of paper that included Adam's photo. “Prove your capability to me by getting rid of him and in return, I will ensure that the Legion leaves your kind well enough alone once they have crushed the Colonials.” Anwick said, eagerly awaiting a response from Cyrus.

  Yelling a handful of words loudly in Benzan, a large man entered the room, very well dressed in a gray pinstripe suit with a face that was without emotion, as if it were cut from marble slate.

  “I will leave the choice to Draco. Should he choose to enter into an arrangement with you, it will remain between the two of you. I have no desire to kill by way of contract, nor do I wish to be directly involved. That said, should he choose to decline, then we are done here.” Cyrus replied.

  “I'm sure if the money is right, Draco won't mind doing the dirty work. Am I correct Benzan?” Anwick asked, throwing a sackful of Legion credits onto the table, easily ten thousand or more. Walking over to pick up one of the photos of Adam, Draco smiled widely.

  “Consider him a dead man. Officially. We fought together in the first Glimmerian war. I know how he thinks, how he moves.” Draco replied in a deep tone of voice, leaving little doubt of his ability to end lives.

  “Very well then. I look forward to hearing from you my brother,” Anwick said, standing to his feet while smiling wide, the low light of the room reflecting from the large razor's edge of his teeth.

  “Now if you will excuse me, I must meet with the Legion regarding our next major assault.” Anwick added as Cyrus slowly stood and extended his arm as the two men in charge sealed the deal with a firm handshake, which was a legally binding contract in the world of terrorism.

  “Anyone ever tell you that you are magnificent with children?” Lassiter asked as Kelly answered his question with only a glowing smile. They had spent the last several hours helping Troy get what few belongings he had together, which amounted to nothing more than the few clothes he had gotten since arriving and a combat blade given to him by the Gali warrior.

  “Kelly. Will I ever have a chance to say goodbye to Roman?” the young boy asked, his question taking her by complete surprise.

  “No need for a goodbye. As soon as he is done recovering, I'm sure he will visit. The family you have been placed with is right here in Kamira, so you will be seeing plenty of all of us.” she replied, bringing a brilliant smile to Troy's face.

  “You need a hand getting Troy to his new home?” Lassiter asked, a bit nervous, but trying to hide it behind the mask of calmness that he wore to disguise his feelings for her.

  “I can handle it,” Kelly replied, pausing for a moment. “When I get back though, maybe you'd be interesting in going into the city together? I haven't had a decent sit down meal in a
long time.” she asked, her shoulder length blonde hair keeping his undivided attention.

  “I would love to, as long as it doesn't include Dalton and an open bar.” he replied, laughing a bit to calm the mood in the room, their unexplored love having grown every single moment since arriving on Glimmeria.

  “Alright, I'll see you soon then.” Kelly replied smiling happily as Troy gave Lassiter a hug before grabbing his bag and heading for the front door of the small apartment.

  “Not soon enough.” Lassiter said to Kelly with a smile before turning to Troy, bending down so they could speak at eye level.

  “Don't worry, I'll personally make sure Roman comes to visit soon, alright?” Lassiter said as Troy grinned ear to ear, shaking his head in approval.

  It was a huge bar, one of the largest Dalton had found himself at in many years. He had long considered himself not only an avid connoisseur of the full spectrum of alcoholic drinks, but a critic of drinking establishments both large and small. Sitting on a wooden stool beside Steiner, he was amazed at the number of tables, nearly a hundred of them, full of people playing cards, drinking and exchanging exaggerated truths.

  “I'll say one thing, these umbrellas are damn classy.” Dalton stated, referring to the wooden umbrella in his latest mixed drink.

  “Agreed, but some of us are more about quantity and less about quality.” Steiner replied loudly, trying to talk over the background noise as he held an unmarked brew in each hand.

  “I'm about both, I just call a spade a spade. And these umbrellas are all class, right down to the neon pink.” Dalton replied, turning up his drink and downing in one lengthy swig what would have taken most men an hour to nurse into their bloodstreams.

  Maybe it was the alcohol casting illusions in front of his eyes as it had done so many times before, but Dalton had convinced himself that a brunette sitting at a nearby table, the kind that became more attractive as the drinks became more available, had been throwing stares into his direction.