by John Davis
“What? How?” Cambria asked with a mountain of emotions running through her.
“I just did. Got a long history with the man in charge.” he boasted, cut short by a clinging hug from the woman he loved to the bones inside of his body.
“This means we'll be together when the flight launches?” Cambria asked probingly.
“Of course,” the smuggler replied, thinking himself a bastard for lying to a woman he loved. “Just focus on packing enough for the two of us.”
As they held one another for several moments, Cambria's arms squeezing the man of her dreams tight, he felt sadness. Not for his coming death, but for the pain which he knew Cambria would eventually feel.
He also knew that a lie was necessary to get her aboard a ship. If she knew of his deal with Ortega, she'd never agree to it. He only hoped she would recover in time and live a long, happy life in the stars above.
“Skulls,” Dalton said, his body still engulfed by the grasp of a love-struck woman. “Sorry about earlier, I wasn't thinking straight.” he added.
“Think nothing of it brother,” the sniper replied. “I understand what you must have been going through.
No, you don't. You truly don't.
-
When the first explosion rocked the surface of Ronica, everyone with a heartbeat knew what was to follow. An invasion. Panic set in throughout the large encampment as daybreak had only begun.
Sitting up as though he'd been awake for hours, Dalton immediately grabbed his revolver and readied for a fight.
“It's alright,” Cambria said. “Far off, but it means we're on very limited time now.”
Bolting to the door of their shelter, Dalton stood with revolver in hand and shirtless, watching the sprint of many colonial soldiers and civilians alike. Each of them expediting the process of their plans for the given day.
“I need to go find Adam. Have to talk to him before they get closer. You finish packing all of the essentials,” Dalton said, throwing a green shirt on with haste and looking back to his lover. “Remember, it's a one-way flight.”
“Be careful, please.” Cambria replied, kissing Dalton passionately before turning to finish packing the needed supplies.
“Hey,” Dalton insisted, staring at their sniper. “Keep her close and safe until I get back.”
“You got it brother.” Skulls replied.
As the smuggler began his own sprint from their shelter, the ground seemed to tremble beneath him, nearly a dozen more explosions landing within a few miles of their basecamp.
The Priests had arrived.
Every time they launched an invasion, it began with explosions from warheads that rained down from the stars. Immediately followed by ships filled tight with soldiers of the undead. Infected. Zombies. Priests. Or, as Dalton usually called them, half-dead fuckers.
Either way, Dalton knew he was on borrowed time as he continued a sprint to the Benzan ship where Adam Michaels had been staying.
Just before arriving, his longtime friend exited the large ship, just as so many other Benzans had done only moments before.
“Adam, we need to talk!” Dalton yelled, doing what he could to become louder than the increasing explosions.
“What is it?” Adam replied, his voice also forced into a very loud tone.
“Cambria. I volunteered to give up my spot for her.” Dalton said, though he did so with a heavy heart.
“What?” Adam asked, stunned by the admission. “You did what?”
“I'm staying behind so she can live through this. Ortega signed off on it. She's to be put on your ship, and I need your word that you will watch over her?” Dalton asked with near-desperation. “Please.”
“Dalton, there has to be some other way?” Adam questioned.
At the moment he did so, a large explosion rocked through the settlement, destroying a large ship that had been assigned to Glimmerian survivors. One of two. Though it wasn't filled with bodies at the moment, he understood that many people who had been promised a ride into the stars would now be without one.
“There is no other way Adam, trust me. I don't want to die, I just don't want her to die a little more.”
Adam was pressed into a tough spot, having been sworn to silence by the Hunters, though failure to speak may have cost his best friend his life.
“Dalton, listen,” Adam said, smaller explosions tearing up the countryside around their basecamp. “The Hunters and colonials are about to come to a head. There's going to be war, and you need to be on this side of the fence.”
“What?” Dalton asked.
“Commander Ortega is lying about a lot of things. He has no intention of staying behind, and he's lying to his people. I also suspect he plans to strike at the Hunters when the time is right.” Adam replied.
“What the hell are you talking about? I just talked to Ortega hours ago, he assured me.”
“Dalton, he is lying to you.” Adam replied.
“Is he? Or have you lost your way?” Dalton questioned.
“What?” Adam asked, shock in his voice.
“You and Sarah are in love, you always have been, and I get it. I truly do. But she's not one of us anymore.” Dalton stated.
“A lot has changed, sure...” Adam began to reply.
“A lot has changed, starting with the fact that she's a fucking vampire.”
“Dalton, you said you trusted me. I need you to trust me.” Adam replied.
“I need you to trust me when I say there's no way I'm putting my life into the hands of a race that's been trying to end it for years now!” Dalton yelled in response.
“The colonials will leave you behind the first chance they get Dalton.”
“The Hunters won't? You'll be lucky to survive a month with those blood-sucking stiffs!” Dalton replied.
“Well,” Adam replied, nodding his head. “The answer to your question is yes. Sasha has a place on my ship, as do you. So long as you know it's going to be a Hunter ship.”
“Pass.” Dalton replied with spite.
“Well, that's your choice to make. Either way old friend, I hope you make it off this rock in one piece.” Adam replied, turning to walk away from a man he once considered a brother.
-
“Hold your positions!” Vladris yelled. “The cowards fight with explosives for now, but soon they will test us on the battlefield. A test in which we will pass with the edge of blades!”
The champion vampire sat tall, a solid black steed beneath him as nearly two-hundred soldiers looked on. Many of them on horseback as well, though most would fight the good fight. On foot with a single weapon.
“Those of you who I consider brothers know of our ability on the battlefield,” Vladris yelled, the thunder of explosions crackling around him as he looked onto the crowd of warriors. Many vampiric, though the sleek armor of Benzan, solid blue of colonials and green tint of Husk were in no short supply. “The rest of you will learn of it with your own eyes on this day, after which we will become immortal brothers, be it through life or death.”
Though they awaited the worst enemy the system had ever known, preparing to face odds that were landslide in the favor of their invaders, the warriors cheered loudly. Readying themselves to follow the most-notorious warrior in recorded history into battle.
Though Troy readied for a different battle altogether.
The colonials and Husk had indeed been conspiring from day one. A plan to rid their departing fleet of anyone deemed a threat to future survival. Which included the Hunters.
Troy could still remember the day Roman was cut down by Vladris' blade. The man, who for so long had been like a father-figure to him, butchered before his very eyes.
At the time, Troy was too young of a man to strike back. Though he had begun the path of a warrior, he was weak.
That was long ago.
After escaping into the welcoming embrace of the Husk, Troy had learned the art of combat. He had perfected the art, in fact, as though he was meant to swing
a sword.
His own sword not nearly as massive as those of his Husk family, but he had countered the absence of Husk-might with cunning. Troy had learned that timing was just as important as ability when it came to battle. And as the timing became right; Troy would have his revenge.
-
Adam Michaels glanced throughout the colonial star, standing on a large catwalk above the landing bay as he watched machines load several more Swordfish fighters inside.
He knew in the pit of his heart that it could be his last look inside of a colonial star, or any colonial ship for that matter.
The soldier turned smuggler began to think of so many many battles before. Many of which, he wore the colonial patch on his chest.
Adam seemed a million miles away, grabbing hold of several large tubes that would be responsible for pushing steam throughout the ship once it began flight. The primary heating system.
The former soldier tugged a bit, as if he were testing the integrity of such a mighty ship. Though he broke away to stare to those around him, Adam began looking to their background, focusing his attention to the ship's setting behind them.
He understood it would be the people's home for the foreseeable future, if not for the remainder of their lives. Their entire lives spent between the beautiful landscapes of planets, each with their own rich history and scenery. Traded now, for an eternity of looking to steel draping around them.
What choice did they have? Adam understood that no victory could be had in a war that had become a fight for their own survival. Their only chance of continuing the walk of humanity would be to do so by launching into uncharted space. Planets that had never before been explored.
He also knew in his heart that no peace would be had until either Commander Ortega and those who sided with him were taken from power, or the Hunters were wiped clean from their massive exodus fleet.
Adam Michaels understood that before their voyage was over, be it by natural death or the discovery of inhabitable soil, these people would come to know every nook, every cranny, of this massive armada of the stars. Perhaps even their children.
A fleet that was near fifty ships, though many of the larger ships included an array of small ones. Each in search of a new home, though politics would play as heavily as before. Every ship with its own agenda.
Each had its own responsibility in the grand scheme of things. The Florentine was responsible for keeping their food in storage, which could prove to be the most important asset to all, depending on how long their journey played out.
The fleet's mechanics were scattered throughout, though their resources were aboard the Iron Maiden. For lack of better terms, an airborne tugboat full of spare parts, along with every tool imaginable.
Four military ships were assigned, including the one Adam currently stood aboard. All colonial star vessels. The Triumph, God of War, Silver Hammer and Stalwart; though the God of War was designated as a troop ship and housed no smaller aircraft outside of dropships. The remaining three were to be used in protection of the fleet while in flight, relying on the skills of their pilots and housing many ship-to-ship fighters. Glimmerian designed Swordfish, though their design had been altered a bit to better fit deep space.
They were massive in comparison to the remaining ships of the fleet, even to their former models of colonial star ships. While the original ships stretched for thousands of yards and contained plenty of the Goliath model soldiers within its hull, the newly-designed colonial stars were much larger.
They were in a sense, small cities with thick armor around them and thrusters to their back. Capable of quartering tens of thousands, though supplies to furnish them would be limited.
The current model of colonial star ships were also stocked with hundreds of Goliath model soldiers, which was fancy talk for ass-kicking robots. The Goliath model aboard, however, were the recently upgraded V2 versions, which lent them a tougher exoskeleton of steel, along with the standard chain guns and anti-aircraft missiles.
The colonials had no idea what may lay waiting for them once the fleet made deep space. Be it fruitful planets that were ripe for the picking, or militarized civilizations that would swing at them with might; the colonials had to be prepared for anything.
Which they were.
After catching sight of a four-man colonial marine team, Adam began to think of their job among the fleet. Protecting those in need, while keeping order and carrying out the instructions of the politicians who would lead them. A tall order considering the Magellan.
It was their political ship, not to mention the one ship that was sure to be the highest priority. Every important political figure surviving, every recognized planet, was to be housed aboard the Magellan. That included the Husk, among others; which was sure to include trouble.
The decisions that would affect everyone in the fleet would have to be made aboard the Magellan – a ship that mixed shatterproof glass and steel as if it were a work of art. Several protruding spheres of glass giving it the look of importance.
The Magellan also had the distinct honor of being the only ship in the fleet, outside of military cruisers, to remain under constant escort. Two Glimmerian-designed swordfish fighters, though more could be scrambled within minutes if needed be.
The Glimmerians had originally designed the swordfish fighter as a ship-to-ship fighter, which had the ability to hug low to the ground and fly at incredible speeds. In working with the colonial design teams, a newer model was eventually released, making it deep space worthy while retaining all of its original signatures of perfection.
All of the military marvel housed within the mighty ships of the fleet. It was impressive. Still, Adam found his mind wrapped around a single thought.
So many races under the same roof. Races that had been slaughtering one another for as long as time could remember, now expected to shake hands and play nice.
Adam wondered how long such a mighty race would bow to the commands of a human leader. He knew it would only be a matter of time before the Orc-like race began its own plans to assume control of the fleet, if it had not already done so.
Of course, the Hunters were now in the mix as well. Vampires in every sense of the word, though they were unhindered by daylight, garlic or religious symbols. That's just a silly assumption to begin with. They are, however, hindered by the burst of a gun and the blade of a sword, when in capable hands. That much had been proven throughout the years. A very important fact that shouldn't soon be forgotten.
Adam wondered if the vampires could be trusted.
The fleet would make its important decisions aboard the Magellan, shaping humanity's future in the process. That said, their leaders would eventually disagree, and that could be disastrous considering the bloody past between their races.
Adam Michaels realized as he stood firm, watching the bustle of soldiers around him prepping their ship, the most vital part of their fleet. Those around him. Adam promised himself at that very moment that he would never forget that fact. Watching such a wounded people push forward, finding courage in the face of the inevitable loss of their homes. It made Adam feel honored to be a part of such a special group, though his allegiance to the vampires meant his time among the colonials was limited at best.
“It's amazing to see people continue on. To survive during such times.” Sarah remarked, approaching Adam slowly.
“I agree,” Adam replied, turning to the woman he once loved. “I was just thinking the same thing. Not to mention how daunting of a task it is going to be when it comes to keeping the peace between such storied races. What are you doing here? You should be in the keep under guard.”
“I now know it is our race that will be persecuted at some point. If the others among us have any common ground, it is the hate for my people.” Sarah replied.
“Yea, I know,” Adam replied, turning to the bustle of his ship for a moment and noticing several among his crew staring to a Sarah a bit roughly. “It isn't going to make my job any easier. You k
now I'm with you until the end Sarah, as long as my son is safe.”
“He shall be.” Sarah replied, also picking up on the animosity of the crew's glances.
Moments later, several gunshots rang throughout the ship, causing an immediate reaction of panic from everyone. Including Adam.
“Remain calm Adam. Those are our shots.” Sarah replied.
Before questioning her, Adam saw dozens of highly-armed Hunters entering the colonial star.
“What is this?” he asked.
“These people have taken from our race for so long. You didn't expect us to just shake hands and play nice, did you?”
“Actually...” he began to respond as the gunfire intensified.
“Adam,” the queen said, pausing to stare onto him. “You have also taken from us,” she added with a glare. “From me.”
“Sarah, that's not fair. You know I feel guilt for this.” Adam replied.
“As well you should,” the queen replied with a snap. “But it does nothing to ease my pain.”
“Sarah, I had no idea they would do this to you.” he replied with a bit of zest on his own part.
“You left me standing alone Adam, what difference did it make to you where I ended up!” Sarah shouted.
“It makes a lot of difference. We've all made mistakes here.” Adam admitted.
“Your biggest mistake was trusting our people with your safety,” she replied. “The safety of your son.”
“Sarah, you better not harm...” Adam began to reply with desperation, though his words cut short by the end of a rifle. Its stock held by one of several Hunter Elites who arrived to protect their queen.
“He's safe and will remain that way Adam, as long as you cooperate.”
“Cooperate? With what?” the smuggler demanded to know.
“My men will escort you to our ship, at which time I will explain your punishment in further detail.”
My punishment? You bitch! He thought, doing everything in his power not to strike at the woman – thinking for the safety of his son.