Gunship - The Series

by John Davis

  “The keep, I suppose.”

  “Please,” Adam replied, turning to her armed escort. “I need you to escort Sarah there and keep her there. Do not let anyone in, no matter their request.”

  The soldiers looked onto him for a moment, before turning to their queen.

  “Sarah please.” Adam said.

  “Alright,” Sarah replied. “Only if you agree to join us.”

  “Huh?” he asked.

  “If something truly is going on, I want people around me that I can trust,” she replied. “I trust you Adam.”

  Several moments of silence were strung together by a look of two past lovers.

  “I need to get my son.” Adam finally replied.

  “Azan,” Sarah commanded, turning to one of her six escort warriors. “Go with Adam and make sure he is able to do so unharmed. Protect him as though you were protecting your queen.” she added.

  “Yes my lady.” Azan replied, bowing low to the ground.

  “Someone please recall Vladris and his warriors. It would seem as though the enemy is not at the gates – but already among us.” Sarah commanded.

  “Please be careful.” Sarah said.

  “Scout's honor.” Adam replied with a grin.

  -

  “Gonna be a bittersweet thing,” Adam remarked, walking through the large hallway of the Colonial Star Destiny. One of hundreds which connected the most vital parts of the large ship. “Leaving the Skyla System I mean. So many memories.”

  “Yes sir, I'd have to agree,” Dalton replied. “Been locked up on half of the colonized planets. Now we gotta leave 'em behind.” he added with a chuckle.

  “It's strange. I'm even going to miss that part of it. The shitty food, iron bars and hard labor.” Adam said.

  “Gonna be different up there. Months, maybe even years before we find something in need of colonization.” Dalton hinted.

  “Take plenty of booze.” Adam replied as both men began to laugh aloud.

  “Already covered,” Dalton replied. “Didn't mean that earlier today. About knocking someone up,” the smuggler added, both of the men watching Adam's son at peace in Cambria's arms. A large pane of shatterproof glass separating them as the blue-haired beauty stood outside. “I honestly didn't know.”

  “I know that,” Adam replied with respect, patting his longtime friend on the arm. “Really hurt me to lose her,” he added. “We've lost so many.”

  “Gonna lose more before this shit is over too.” Dalton proclaimed.

  “I'm afraid of that.” Adam admitted.

  “Sarah?” Dalton asked, though he did so in a casual manner to avoid prying.

  “Seeing her again brought up a swirl of emotions. Things I thought were dead inside of me,” Adam admitted, turning to his friend. “I think I still love her.”

  “Shit son, love is for idiots.” Dalton boasted.

  “And Cambria?”

  “Well that's a little different. I mean, the girl is fine looking and has a good heart, but I don't know if we've made it to love just yet.”

  “Better work quickly my friend,” Adam replied with a smile. “Because she is damn fine looking and appears to be real good with my son. I won't back-off forever.”

  “Like hell!” Dalton replied, both men laughing.

  “In all seriousness though Dalton, if you feel for the girl at all, you should tell her. Don't wait on it too long. I think of all the time I wasted with Sarah. I let my stubbornness stand between my true feelings and what could have been.” Adam remarked with seriousness.

  “And the bitch held us at gunpoint. Don't forget that small detail.” Dalton lashed out.

  “You get what I'm saying?” Adam asked, staying the course of serious.

  “Unfortunately, yes. It's killing my whiskey buzz actually.” the smuggler replied.

  As they both laughed aloud, Adam turned to his friend for a heartfelt nod.

  “Dalton, we need to talk.” Adam said.

  “I thought that's what we were doing. You know, I open my mouth and words begin to come out?” Dalton replied.

  “I don't think we're safe here.” Adam suggested.

  “What the fuck are you talking about? We're aboard a military ship.” Dalton replied.

  “I can't get into details, at least not yet,” Adam replied. “I just need you to trust me.”

  “I do trust you Adam, you know that.”

  “I just have a really bad hunch that this arrangement between races is going to take a nosedive south very soon,” Adam said, continuing to speak in a whisper. “Just be ready to move if that happens.”

  “Who are you talking to?” Dalton asked, boasting a bit. “I'm always ready to move.”

  Or drink. Or, well, you know. Dalton thought.

  Adam answered his longtime friend with a firm pat on the shoulder.

  “Well, gonna go collect my son from the hottest girl you've ever had a chance with.”

  “Shit son, I've been with the crème de la crème when it comes to women,” Dalton boasted. “She's in my top five though.”

  “She's in MY top five,” Adam replied, though he continued a walk away from his friend. “Which definitely makes her your number one.”

  Yea, yea. You cheeky bastard. Dalton thought. Feeling at peace as he was surrounded by his friends once more. Though his mind began to wonder about the alliance of races.

  -

  As the day slowly turned to night, a shadow of moonlight crisping onto the shiny hulls of so many ships, a sense of urgency set in.

  Urgency for a fleet which worked night and day in an attempt to stock their ships for a one-way flight into the tapestry of stars, and urgency for Dalton James. The word love having played heavily onto his mind since hearing it earlier.

  “Tell her,” he said, pouring a shot of rock whiskey and downing it with haste. “Tell her not.” he added, pouring yet another.

  As he sat alone, off from the bustling crowd of so many who remained hard at work, Dalton wrestled with the obvious. There was only enough for one more shot.

  He would have to tell Cambria he loved her. The smuggler had feared nothing as much as he feared admitting that to her. Terrified of rejection.

  Fuck it. He thought, though his mind remained locked onto every word of his coming confession. That he had truly fallen for the woman who was nothing like him. Yet made him complete.

  So as the smuggler draped in his security blanket of brown leather marched on, as if he were marching into the teeth of an execution, he thought of those around him.

  Women and children, who greatly resembled those he'd been forced to leave behind in the Drifts. He saw the faces of desperation and worry. Faces of survivors who seemed bewildered as they worried about their immediate futures.

  Such a sight firmed Dalton up a bit. Realizing the admission of love wasn't the worst fate. Still he stopped in his tracks for a moment. Not for the thought of his admission of love that would soon follow; but for those around him. A group of survivors who had been collected from all parts of the Skyla System. A group that had lost so much, yet continued with hope. He thought of the sacrifice Commander Ortega had made for those very people, and it made him both sad, and proud as hell to be a colonial.

  “Cambria Sims, I have something I...” Dalton announced proudly as he burst through the small door of their two-room shelter.

  Stopping his statement however, Dalton saw a girl broken, her crying one of true sadness.

  “What's wrong?” he asked, immediately grabbing her into his cowboy-strong arms and consoling her.

  With her crying so heavy, no response would follow, just the gut-wrenching somber of a deep cry. Though he would soon discover the reason behind her sadness as he picked up an official colonial memo which lay near.

  The colonial government regrets to inform you that you have been selected to remain behind. Our exodus launch is scheduled in forty-eight hours at the stroke of midnight. You have been assigned to the ground party, led by Commander Ortega. You wi
ll report tomorrow at sunrise to your assigned unit, led by Lieutenant James Locke of the colonial army.

  Please know that your denial of flight does not ensure your fate. We are planning a very strategic defense against coming forces and remain confident that we will be victorious.

  Thank you.

  Benton Sanders.

  As Dalton finished reading the death sentence of Cambria Sims, he crunched the official papers into a ball, as if it were designed for ass-wiping, his other arm still firmly wrapped around the woman of his dreams.

  “Where are you going?” Cambria asked as Dalton pulled away, heading back to the door that had brought him to her.

  “To fix this,” he replied, angered by the development. “First though,” he added, walking back to her arms. “I love you Cambria Sims.”

  His statement brought more tears, though it was a mixture of happiness and grief, the woman trembling as she had never trembled before.

  “I love you too.”

  “I will fix this, I promise you.” Dalton replied, leaving her grasp as he walked for the door once more.

  “I made the flight!” Skulls announced, entering the small shelter as the sniper smiled wide.

  “The fuck out of my way.” Dalton demanded, shoving the sniper and good friend to the side, readying for a showdown with the horde of pencil-necks that would surely follow.

  -

  “Have you recalled our warriors?” Sarah asked.

  The queen of vampires sat firmly on her throne, which shimmered with both jewels and gothic inscriptions formed into bronze plating.

  “We have sent word, but it will take time,” one of her soldiers replied. “Depending on their circumstances, I'm sure we can expect the return of Vladris soon enough.”

  “Very well,” Sarah replied, looking onto the group which had gathered. Nearly thirty total. “We must begin to think of the survival of our own race, nothing more.”

  “Is it true? Do those who seek out protection plan to eliminate us?” one of the elders asked.

  “We,” Adam Michaels replied. “We don't know. Right now, we're just being cautious.”

  “You brought this onto us!” a second elder replied.

  “I didn't know, I swear,” Adam replied, raising his hand to face level in an attempt to reason with those who had gathered. “Even now, the commander lies to his own people. He's lost his way, and I fear that he lies to your people as well.”

  “Adam had no part in this,” the queen warned. “In fact, he was the one who warned me.”

  “What proof do you have?” one of the elders asked.

  “At the moment, none,” Adam replied. “Just a gut feeling.” he added with regret.

  “A gut feeling?” the elder replied in mocking fashion. “You wish us to recall our soldiers and risk annihilation based on a gut feeling?”

  “Send every soldier you have to face the coming horde, that's not my concern. Nor will it matter. They are coming, and nothing you have can stop that,” Adam replied, this time with a bit of zeal on his words. “My only concern is for the queen. YOUR queen.” he added.

  “He believes they requested our champion lead the defense in order to separate us. Divide our ranks.” Sarah added.

  “If Commander Ortega has no intention of leaving as scheduled; no intention of remaining behind as promised, why would he send a defense in the first place? Would he not just raise the ships as soon as the horde got close?” Adam asked.

  The room seemed to be in deep thought, each of them pondering the smuggler's questions.

  “I've been a military man long enough to know that there is only one reason behind his decision,” Adam said, pausing to look to Sarah. “He means to thin you out. Either to exterminate your race, or leave you behind to die.”

  “Was it not you that brought this to our doorstep?” one of the elders asked.

  “I have no part in this. In fact, if I find out he is indeed trying to kill your queen,” Adam said, pausing for just a moment. “I'll gun him down myself.”

  “He is with us!” Sarah yelled, commanding her elders back in line. “He fights with us and is committed to dying with us, if need be. We must begin a plan to counter such colonial treachery.”

  “Your plans my queen?” one of the higher ranking warriors asked.

  “They believe they hold the advantage through surprise. Their downfall will be their arrogance and stupidity,” Sarah replied, grinning a bit. “We will act as though we are none the wiser. All while slowly putting our own plan into place. When this fleet launches, we will be in control of it.”

  -

  “A bit late to be out and around isn't it soldier?” a man asked, decked out in a colonial uniform as he sat behind the desk of an otherwise empty room.

  “Ain't no solider. I'm here to see Commander Ortega.” Dalton replied, already eying a single door which most-likely led to the commander.

  “Who isn't? Had nearly a hundred of requests today. You'll have to wait your turn. Come back tomorrow and try your luck.” the colonial soldier replied.

  “I'm sorry, what was that?” Dalton asked politely, approaching the seated man.

  “I said you'll have to...” he began to reply, stopping short as he was pulled from his seat by the front of his shirt; clean-jerked directly into a grasp which held him inches from the floor.

  “Now you listen to me, you little puny sumbitch,” Dalton scolded. “I was fighting wars and dodging bullets when you were still shitting baby green,” he added. “And I've killed men twice your size over nothing more than sales rack whiskey. So believe me when I say it. You're gonna be on that com to inform Ortega that I'm here.”

  “They'll throw you in the brig for this!” the smaller man yelled, his only defense.

  “Nowhere I haven't been before. Countless times. Now be smart about it.” Dalton replied, turning his eyes back to a heavy revolver which hung by his side.

  “Sir,” the colonial soldier timidly said, “Hate to disturb you at such an hour,” the man added, pressing a button on the com in front of him. “Someone here to see you. A Dalton?” he said, feeling a firming grip on the front of his shirt. “He's pretty persistent.”

  “Of course, send him in.” Ortega replied through the digital com system.

  “Yes sir, at once.” the man said, finally removing his finger from the com.

  “See there buddy, nobody even had to die.” Dalton proclaimed, lowering the man to the ground and slapping his shoulder in good sport.

  Immediately, the smaller man pulled away with anger.

  “Of course, I do have to come back through here when I leave.” Dalton reminded, taunting the man who cast a look of intimidation back.

  “Dalton James,” Commander Ortega said, welcoming the smuggler into his personal quarters. “I had hoped to see you again soon. Though I didn't think it would be after hours.”

  “Something came up.” Dalton replied.

  “Of course, of course,” the commander said, motioning to his desk. “Have a seat.”

  “Been thinking a lot about what you said before. Most importantly, about the sacrifice you've made for your love of these people.” Dalton said.

  “You've decided to take up my offer on joining the fleet?” Ortega asked.

  “No sir, as a matter of fact I'm going to have to respectfully decline,” Dalton said, his reply shocking the man in charge. “Though I am going to ask for a favor.”

  “I see,” Ortega replied with a hint of disappointment. “Go on.” he added.

  “You chose to stay behind and give hope to these people out of love. What I feel is the mark of a true leader; a true man. I also love someone. A girl that I couldn't imagine life without living. I refuse to leave into the stars and leave her behind, knowing it would be a death sentence.”

  “Perhaps not.” Commander Ortega injected.

  “Perhaps, but the odds of surviving are the slimmest imaginable,” Dalton quickly replied, setting the tone of the meeting. “I wish to give her
my spot on the exodus fleet, and I would like to remain behind with you, answering to your command.”

  “Dalton, I understand your passion. Truly I do. But you could serve these people best by remaining with them in the future. Your experience would be a great asset...”

  “No,” Dalton stated firmly. “My experience means nothing if I fight with an empty heart. I'm as good as dead if I know in my heart that the woman I love is doomed.”

  “Alright,” Ortega replied. “I'll see that it's done.”

  “I also have one final request.” Dalton stated.

  “Yes?”

  “The woman is very, very important to me. I simply ask that she be allowed onto the ship of my own choosing, surrounded by our friends.” Dalton said.

  “Very well. You have my word.” Ortega replied.

  “Sir, thank you,' Dalton replied with gratitude. “I feel at peace with this, and trust me, I'll give you everything I have when it comes time for slinging shells.”

  “I know you will son.” Ortega replied, acknowledging the truth of his statement, though his own was riddled with lies.

  “Well,” Dalton said, standing to his feet and saluting his new superior. “I'll let you get back to it. Sorry for bothering you at such an hour.”

  “Dalton, I want you to know something,” Ortega said, causing the sworn smuggler to pause his walk. “If our cause had more soldiers like you, we may just be winning this damn war.”

  “Not a big deal,” Dalton replied calmly. “All of these years I've ran from death. But I've ran my course. Now I plan to run to it, guns a blazing.”

  “You're a model soldier Dalton James.”

  “Apparently you haven't read my file jacket hard enough.” the smuggler replied with a grin as Ortega handed him a signed paper. One that would allow Cambria's future to exist on the exodus flight.

  -

  “I'm sorry for the breakdown earlier,” Cambria admitted, approaching the man of her dreams as he entered their shelter once more.

  “No worries,” Dalton replied. “Told you I would fix it.” he said, handing her the signed paper.