Gunship - The Series

by John Davis

  “Yea, and who's that?” Zane asked with interest.

  “My brother.” Roman added as he continued to stare at a man whom he had close ties with. Quinton.

  “So that's when they caught me,” Quinton said as he sat at the steel table, its legs bolted to the floor of the recreational area as both Roman and Zane listened. “I had an entire shipment of weapons, warrants for my arrest on a dozen or so planets and the blood of a Hunter on my hands.” Quinton added.

  “A Hunter? Can't honestly say I have ever met someone who has fought one and lived to tell about it.” Zane replied.

  “Really,” Quinton asked, turning to look Roman in the eyes. “I take it he doesn't know?” Quinton said.

  “Know what?” Zane asked as Roman began to reflect on a past that he had so long tried to leave behind.

  “I'd say you have met someone that has fought a Hunter and lived to tell about it,” Quinton said with a bit of laughter. “Roman here has killed hundreds of the bastards, including one of their queens.” he added.

  “Bullshit.” Zane said sharply.

  “No, it's true. I can't believe you've been locked up with him for this long and it hasn't come up yet,” Quinton replied, gaining a stern look from Roman. “Ah hell, I'd say it's alright to talk about it now. You've been caught. We both have. Might as well lay it all out there for him.” Quinton added.

  After a few moments of looking at Quinton, Roman turned to Zane, ready to reveal at least part of his past.

  “Several years back, my unit was dispatched to work security for the signing of a treaty,” Roman said reluctantly. “Seemed like just another security detail, I figured I would be back out drinking a few hours after the politicians did their thing,” he added as his eyes began to tear just slightly. “When I was eight I watched both of my parents get murdered in cold blood. Goddamn Hunters cut them down in the middle of the street like they were garbage. I tried to fight them off but I wasn't anything more than a boney ass runt.” Roman added before taking a long pause.

  “When I walked in to secure the conference room for the treaty signing and found out my own government was signing a treaty with the Hunters, I lost it,” he added. “I waited for their queen to arrive, and even with a large security detail of her own I struck. I buried a blade flush into that bitch's skull and twisted it hard enough to know for a fact she wasn't walking back out of there.” Roman added.

  “I remember hearing about that. The shit was all over the news. The Greyspine Massacre.” Zane said.

  “Yea. When I struck Queen Lethra, I guess the Hunters thought it was a coordinated assassination and all hell broke loose in that fucking room. We were the absolute best our government had to offer,” Roman said, pausing for a moment to glance at Quinton. “But they had their elites and eventually I realized there was no winning the fight, it became a matter of survival. Two of my own damn men held me at gunpoint when I tried to take a shuttle. Those are the only two men I have ever killed that I regret day and night.” Roman replied.

  “No wonder the Gali paid such a high price to lock your ass up.” Zane said.

  “They have been tracking me down every since, trying to bury me under a prison. The Hunters have been tracking me to cut me into small pieces and I knew deep down that eventually one of them would catch up to me. Can't run forever.” Roman said.

  “Don't have to run anymore little brother, I got your back.” Quinton said.

  “After my parents were struck down for nothing more than sport by the Hunters, Quinton and his family took me in. Raised me the best they could,” Roman said. “I've dedicated my life from that point on considering them my family and trying to kill as many of the Hunters as I fucking can.” Roman added.

  “So we can trust him as our third man?” Zane asked, already knowing the answer.

  “You can trust him with your life, Quinton hasn't ever let me down.” Roman replied.

  “And I'm not about to start now.” Quinton added, turning to Zane as a prison guard slowly walked behind them. “Good. Very good.” Zane said in a low voice.

  Normally dressed for only the most glamorous of events, Sarah was outfitted in a snug fitting pair of blue military pants and a long sleeve shirt which was stitched from thermal material.

  “And you trust everyone coming along?” Sarah asked with hope filled intent.

  “Yes my lady, they are absolutely your most loyal followers.” Lassiter said as they boarded through the small entrance which was reinforced with thick bolts and blast shielding.

  Sarah stopped, glancing across the crew area of the cabin into the faces of the men in which she placed her life into the hands of. There were three of the very large Husk race, barbaric as well as beast like, they bore a heavy resemblance to the mythical minotaurs of old. Two Goliath V2 soldiers were seated at the rear of the shuttle, both programed to use their robotic frames and small mini-guns to defend Sarah at all costs. Finally, Lassiter had hand picked three Colonial soldiers. Human, as well as the most able and trusted he knew. Each had lost so much throughout the war and looked to Sarah with the utmost respect for leading them into the direction of freedom.

  “Umm, Lassiter. Maybe we should discuss the group you have selected.” Sarah said, unconvinced of this being a group she could trust. One of the large Husk warriors stood to his feet, his near eight foot frame only inches from touching the ceiling of the shuttle. Walking into the direction of Sarah, the thick hair which covered his bulging arms gave them a grizzly appearance as he stood before her. Kneeling down to the floor, the Husk stared low with loyalty.

  “My lady, it is truly an honor to be standing before you this very moment. Please know that I will use every fiber of my being to defend you to my very own death.” Sarah looked taken back by such loyalty coming from the heart of a warrior who could easily have broken her into pieces.

  “Never mind, they'll do.” Sarah said calmly as she took a seat with Lassiter near the front of the shuttle.

  “Tigon Twelve to tower. Requesting permission to launch.” the shuttle's pilot said into his helmet mounted com unit.

  “Affirmative Tigon twelve, safe voyage.” a voice replied loudly over the console mounted speakers which surrounded the pilot. “Only the brass know you are onboard, I told everyone else that I was taking out a strike team to bring in a Colonial fugitive,” Lassiter said. “I figured the less people in the loop, the better.” he added.

  “Good thinking.” Sarah said, continuing to stare out of the window and hoping with every piece of her soul that Adam Michaels would forgive her.

  As the shuttle pulled slowly from the deck of the ship and made its way into the void black of space, Sarah continued looking through the small window positioned near her seat. How could the survival of my heart depend on a single man when all of this exists? Sarah thought as she imagined so many planets around them filled with a variety of people. She started to think about the times shared with Adam.

  How, only minutes after meeting, Adam had risked his life for hers and that of a young boy; going toe to toe with the Hunters in the process. In fact, he had went to bat for her so many times, only to have it thrown back into his face when she asked him to leave.

  “Are you alright my lady?” Lassiter asked quietly, the shuttle traveling quickly through the curtain of twilight.

  “Yes,” Sarah replied, her stare into space never faltering. “Just thinking about everything Adam did for me. I was such a fool.” she added with truth.

  “Adam is a smart man when it comes to the character of a person. I know you are sincere, and I'm sure he'll see it too.” Lassiter said.

  “I truly hope so,” Sarah replied, turning to Lassiter with trembling eyes. “I miss him so much.” she added.

  “Attention,” Kraid yelled, instantly silencing the crowd of Benzans who had been drinking and socializing in the lodge. “I have just been informed by some very credible sources that the Hunters are assembling soldiers to invade us. They would come to our lands in an effort to spi
ll our blood,” Kraid added, many loud shouts following his words from Benzans who were ready for a fight. “I say let them come! For they will not find trembling women and children here, they will not find the usual intimidated cowards they face; only battle tested slayers of the undead!” Kraid yelled holding his broadsword high into the air, its handle wrapped in leather bonding as the entire room filled with nearly two hundred warriors shouted uncontrollably. The noise pierced not only the smoke filled lodge, but the valley behind the Benzan settlement, crisping the leaves and snow with echos of madness.

  The loud shouting of insanity fueled by rage continued, as did the billowy grey stacks of smoke which climbed from their fires and into the heavens. And the snow continued to fall relentlessly. This was their home, their fields of killing and though the Hunters were damn formidable in combat, the Benzans welcomed the challenge with open arms.

  From the time a Benzan child learned to walk, they began training. For years they would learn hand to hand combat, everything from breaking bones to the finer points of strangulation. When they reached their teenage years, only the best of Benzan women continued training with men. Wielding anything from a long blade to a compact firearm, they were taught everything about killing. How each of their more notorious foes were slain easily and how the Benzan code demanded of them that no fight should ever be avoided. While the lesser Benzan women began learning survival tactics, the men and stronger women simply learned how to slay without regard.

  They knew all too well that the Hunters were damn hard to kill, almost monster-like in their way of reaving humans. They did not care. When it came to battle, no man, human or otherwise, would ever witness a Benzan back down. Ever. They would fight to the death for the most simple of reasons, and when it came to defending their homes and protecting their families, they would slay any man or beast who stood in front of them.

  “I say come God damn you! Come!” Kraid yelled loudly, once again holding his sword into the air, its pale blue complexion in need of salty warm blood.

  The sword had been with the Benzan people for centuries, passed down from leader to leader as a token of authority. It had slain so many. As the gigantic arms of Kraid held the blade high into the infusion of smoke and snow, the Benzans yelled wildly. Waiting for the arrival of the immortals so they could be immortal no longer.

  “Adam,” Sasha said, quickly following him out of the lodge and into the heavy fall of cloud born snow. “Adam wait, we need to talk about this.” she added, stopping him in his tracks.

  “No Sasha, we don't.” he said, turning slowly to face her with the serenity of nature flooding around them.

  “I'm sorry Adam, I didn't think it would matter. It was a long time ago.” Sasha said, visibly upset.

  “It doesn't. The fact that he obviously still has feelings for you combined with the fact that I was starting to fall for you myself. That matters.” Adam replied sharply.

  “What are you saying?” Sasha asked, moving in a bit closer as the snow fell poetically around them.

  “I don't know Sasha, every single time my life begins to make sense it gets turned upside down. I never thought I would say this, but I need calm. I need something solid that I can count on for the rest of my life. Lately I haven't been able to find that.” Adam replied.

  “I can be that Adam Michaels.” Sasha said softly, gently putting her arms around him and kissing his lips slowly as luster filled flakes fell from the sky around them.

  “My Lord, do you wish us to stay and fight?” Stage asked nearly in a yell to be heard over the chants of a war to come.

  Kraid had seen the kiss between Adam and Sasha, his stare fixated onto them through a small window in the lodge was crushing to say the least.

  “No. I promised Adam we would help free his friend and I am a man of my word. Go, and when you return you can help us count the slaughtered beasts,” Kraid said confidently. The group of Benzans yelled with hellbent fury as Dalton found himself yelling if for no other reason than to give himself an excuse to raise a little hell without recourse, Whiskey even joining along with vicious barking. “And when the job is complete, Adam and his friends are not to return. Am I clear?” Kraid asked in a whisper.

  “Yes my Lord. Crystal.” Stage replied.

  The Hunters sat in war equipped shuttles inside the face of a large mountain as gripping rainfall moistened the surrounding area. Five shuttles, each holding nearly twenty of the most battle tested Hunters, along with two of the elite variety. While they would all carry the standard Hunter designed rifle, which was a semi-automatic weapon capable of punching holes through the thickest of men, they were on a different mission. One fueled on revenge and retribution, and for those very reasons it was their intention to cut their foes into pieces. Slicing flesh from bone with perfectly edged swords which they each carried, harnessed onto their backs and nearly alive with the hunger for blood.

  As the five shuttles slowly began to pull from the rocky terrain, many of the undead warriors gazed through the small windows into a curtain of rain and wondered if it would be the last time their eyes would see the gothic beauty of the queen's cavern. A series of several large doors cut into the face of a mountain with outlines of tribal style writing surrounding them. As feared as the Hunters were, they knew well the ferocity of Benzans in battle. In fact, the Benzans were famous for it. That said, Hunters still considered themselves at the top of the food chain and this was a perfect example of an unstoppable force clashing with an immovable object. Many of each species would perish in the battle to come, if not all of them, which made the presence of Hunter Elites among them bring comfort.

  Legend tells of the rise of Hunter Elites. A time when scattered nations of vampiric beasts clashed with one another, the elites were born to defend their queen. They were the epitome of horror, easily slaying the most dominant foes in battle, and that was reason enough for the Hunters heading to the upcoming slaughter between nations to feel a bit more confident as they set course for the well known location of the Benzan hideout.

  “The plan is pretty damn simple,” Zane said as both Roman and Quinton looked on. “When the next transport shuttle arrives in a week to deliver new prisoners, we take the ship.” he added.

  “How the hell do you plan on doing that? We were under heavy guard the entire time, at least six riot ready soldiers aboard the shuttle.” Quinton said.

  “Our ship only places two guards in the landing bay. We take them out and meet the shuttle as normal. Wait for the guards aboard to exit with the prisoners and then use the element of surprise to our advantage,” Zane replied. “Third person waits up on the steel catwalk near the entrance of the landing bay. They'll be responsible for keeping everyone on this orbiting hell out of the landing bay until the other two take the shuttle and are ready to make an exit.” he added.

  “Who's responsible for what?” Roman asked with concentration. “Look, I trust you, but I'm not stupid enough to hang out up on the catwalk. I got no intentions of you two taking the shuttle and leaving my ass high and dry.” Zane said.

  “I'll take the catwalk,” Quinton said. “I will only have been here for a week anyway, so there would be a good chance one of the guards aboard the shuttle would recognize me.” he added.

  “Then it's settled.” Zane said.

  “One thing,” Roman responded, looking abruptly into the dead gaze of Zane. “We will not leave without Quinton.” he added.

  “Agreed my friend.” Zane said with a touch of nervousness in his tone.

  “Only question now is how to get to the landing bay?” Quinton asked.

  “You will ask to be treated in the infirmary,” Zane responded, his stare directly on Quinton. “Roman and I will stage a fight. We have to make sure it's severe enough to get thrown into the hole, and we have to time it just right. Otherwise we will miss the chance to jump that shuttle,” he added. “When we pass in the hall under guard, they will force you to face the wall,” Zane said to Quinton. “The very moment we pass by
, Roman and I will both spring on the guards and do our best to overtake them. As we do, you will turn and help us. Grab as many loose weapons as you can, going to need them in order to hold that catwalk.” Zane added.

  “I like it, it's a good plan.” Quinton replied as Roman continued his stare on Zane, wondering if he could be trusted. Not that it would matter. He was easily willing to kill Zane if need be in order to make sure he and his terrorist brother Quinton left safely.

  Primal pressed a sequence of several buttons in front of them as Stage turned from the cockpit area of the shuttle to face the rest of the group.

  “Gonna be about a six hour flight to Arch City. Try and get some rest.” Stage said loudly as the ship's thrusters began to do a slow burn as the shuttle remained grounded in the knee deep snow. He turned to face the instrument panel and assist Primal as both men pressed several buttons and logged their course.

  “Arch City?” Adam asked, bending over into Sasha's direction slightly while doing so.

  “One of Gali's larger cities. Plan is to overtake the crew of the shuttle that transports prisoners to the ship that houses Roman. Land as though it's a normal drop off, then grab him and get out of there before the guards aboard realize what is going on.” Sasha replied.

  “Arch City, random moon, I don't really give a damn. Anywhere but here. I'm freezing my ass off.” Dalton said loudly as his lower jawbone trembled. He sat in the rear of the shuttle huddled into a chair with his thin brown coat pulled around him as though it were a straightjacket; Whiskey sitting pitifully by his side.

  “You know, if you would just have replaced that raggedy ass brown piece of cloth with an actual climate jacket when they offered, you'd be nice and toasty right about now.” Adam said smiling, his thick green coat with fur lined hood a perfect escape from the cold conditions.