

GUNSHIP

A Pulp Science Fiction Series

by John M. Davis

This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical people, events or places are used fictitiously. Any other names, places, events or characters are products of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual places, events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2020 John Michael Davis

Editing: Daniél Lecoq

Cover: Amanda Elizabeth

All rights reserved, including the right to copy this book or portions of this book in any form.

Manufactured in the United States of America

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Author's Note

When I originally published this series in 2011, part of the world was ready for it and part of the world never will be. See, I'm a huge fan of 1920s-1950s pulp fiction, all of the Golden Age of Radio programs, and classic television. A vast majority of the negativity surrounding Gunship is the product of a modern world expecting the modern novel when, in fact, this is serialized pulp fiction. I've always wanted to do something different and in finding my voice as a writer I discovered that I'm a displaced 1930s pulp fiction author. What's a guy to do?

My writing is a mashup of everything that I enjoy reading: my tough guys are full of bravado, my leading ladies are even tougher. As an author, I realize that there's a huge market for love stories about teenage vampires, but I would rather sell fewer stories and write about real vampires. Apparently many readers agree, enough so that this series has given birth to three #1 bestsellers. That said, my kind of action is not one size fits all. I offer the kind of fiction that can only be found here, and I offer several of them absolutely free. Thank you, dear reader, for giving them a go.

Table of Contents

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

About the Author

Part One

Of all the planets in the Skyla System, Adam found himself here.

It was nothing more than a small cropping planet filled with the swine of society. A moon, really, filled with those who chose not to be found. Adam sat quietly for well over an hour, having thought long and hard about the choices that had led him here. Who else was there to blame? He'd had a decent upbringing and been given the same chances as the successful batch of his friends: doctors, executives, hell even a professional skiff ball player in one case.

But Adam was a smuggler of illegal goods.

Some folks tried to dress it up with fancy words that didn't quite fit, but at the end of the day he took things that were stolen and delivered them to the highest bidder. He was good at it, too. One of the best. But that didn't make it any easier to swallow. His father had always tried to steer him onto the right path. He once told Adam to have ambition in life. Instead, Adam found himself in and out of prisons up until the First Glimmerian War, at which time he'd been volunteered for service against the Legion.

There were so many times when he thought of giving it up – every near-death encounter was followed with an empty promise from Adam to himself: never again. It was the money. The money was just too good. Adam could live far better than any professional skiff ball player, but the money came and went. When the job was big enough, the payout unlocked a lifestyle that few would ever know, and the risk was equally as large.

"You sleeping over there?"

Adam's stare broke away from the window. As dry bushes rolled across the barren landscape outside, he turned back to the card game – glancing at each of the men for a moment. They were typical looking for men who considered thieving to be honest work. Tossing in a small handful of credits, Adam remained silent.

"You've got balls, Michaels. I'll give you that," one of the men said. Lucas, who was also considered one of the best, flashed his yellow teeth at Adam with a wide smile. He and Adam ran the smuggling game on the furthest side of the Skyla System and everyone knew it. "But I'm gonna raise yo' ass."

Adam thought about all of the paydays and how easily money was squandered in backwater saloons like this one. For all of his deep payouts his Gunship model was barely worthy of flying and his crew hadn't been paid in weeks. Like most who are unworthy of instant riches Adam didn't spend conservatively. But as he sat there, turning his attention back to the window once more, Adam could think of nothing but his father tucking him in at night as a young man. Adam, have ambition.

Yet here he was, sitting in one of the most run down establishments of the quadrant; tables lathered in skank as the orgy of Benzan string music played in a dark corner of the place, barely visible through tobacco smoke.

"Read 'em and weep, boys." Lucas grinned.

Right away, the grizzly-bearded man put his arms in and began scraping all of the credits into his direction. Without a word, Adam stood up and left the table of shady characters who claimed to be his friends. Truth be told, they would have given him over to the authorities for a fistful of credits. Hell, maybe even for a free beer. There was no honor among thieves, only men who would steal the coins from your eyes and pick the pockets of a dead man. Adam wasn't far behind them when it came to morals. The only honor he knew was a fast gun hand and the trusty revolver by his side.

"Politics?" Adam asked.

Taking a seat beside one of his few real friends, crewman Dalton James, Adam began looking at the wall mounted monitor. Finding humor in Dalton's gaze, which was a combination of interest and drunken stupor.

"Ah fuck," Dalton admitted. "Ain't my doing. It's all that's on."

"No skiff ball?"

"Nope," Dalton grinned with defeat. "Nothing. Just a bunch of old bastards talking about the possibility of another civil war. You'd think that a bunch of backwater planets who've taken it up the rear time again by politicians would be done with men in suits. Only reason I can figure is they like watching Monica."

"Monica?"

"The newscaster chick," Dalton said. "I don't have the first clue what she's rambling about but she's wearing a pink halter top."

Adam stared at his friend for several moments.

"And no I'm not drunk, before you ask," Dalton said with pride. "Who could get drunk by drinking this watered down piss."

The bartender glanced into his direction.

"Yea, I said it loud on purpose. And don't think I wouldn't say it to your face, either," he bitched. "I'm a professional criminal and I'm telling you that calling this mule urine ale is a crime in itself."

"You know, they do have better drinks here." Adam said in a low voice.

"Yea, but I ain't paying seven credits a shot."

"Two shots of rock whiskey," Adam said. Holding up his hand for a moment. He could see the bartender's hesitation. "Put a rush on it. My friend doesn't like to wait. And bring me a coffee while you're at it."

"Coffee?" Dalton asked.

"Yea," Adam turned to the only window of the bar once more. "I'm not in much of a mood to drink tonight."

"You're getting soft in your old age." Dalton said.

Immediately, he downed a shot of rock whiskey. For the rest of the Skyla System, rock whiskey was a last resort. It was good for cleaning up oil spills, killing unwanted weeds, or soaking flatware in. It wasn't really what the civilized world called drinkable. At Paulie's it was top shelf. Dalton followed the first shot with a second; chasing one bad swig of rock whiskey with the next.

"May want to slow down, otherwise we'll be washing dishes to pay for it," Adam cautioned. Dalton had the tendency to drink like a millionaire while wearing the look of a beggar. Living a rock whiskey lifestyle on a mule piss budget.

"We need to do something, the ship ain't gonna fly itself. We need food, fuel..." Dalton began. Quickly, the rock whiskey caught up with him. "I dunno, Adam. I used to read comics and the villains always led such interesting lives. Now that I've become one, I sleep in a hammock and eat beans once a day on flea-ridden moons."

"I know," Adam agreed with a nod and a sip of hot coffee. "What do you want me to do? We flew all the way out here and Jones screwed us over. It's not like we could outgun him – Jones had at least twenty guns on us. We're in bed with criminals and sometimes the bad guys get one up on you."

All of the sudden a man slipped into Paulie's. People normally didn't slip in, they smashed the door open and began to brag about their crimes with pride. Anyone slipping into a bar filled with swine had done something very bad, and that stoked Adam's interest.

"He's military," Adam said. "But not Legion. I can tell because of the glasses. I can't think of a single Legion outpost where you'd need shades that black. Dark green jacket, so I'd assume it's far from here and it's baggy, which means he's hiding something."

"All of this and you keep losing at cards?"

"Unfortunately for me, the other captains know how to read people too," Adam said, standing to his feet and placing a hand on Dalton's shoulder for a moment. "Old buddy, I'll be back in a few minutes. I'm gonna go talk to him before one of the other captains get their hooks in him. Save my seat."

"Don't get lost," Dalton grinned. "This whiskey ain't cheap and this old dog right here is mighty thirsty."

"Water only." Adam cautioned.

Hell, this is as weak as water. Dalton nodded.

Adam wasted no time making his way over to the mysterious man. His crew had needed another set of hands for quite a while and the man looked the part: roughly six feet tall and well-muscled, with a look that was undeniably military. His eyes held secrets, too. A common trait among the criminal type.

"Mind if I sit?"

The man looked up for a moment. "Do I know you?"

"Captain Adam Michaels," he replied. "I run a small ship and crew and we're in need of another able-bodied man. I figured I'd approach you before the other captains did."

"A job?" the man asked. He began eating the bowl of complimentary bread. Something no one ever did. It had likely been there for days on end.

"I'd avoid the bread," Adam said with a slight smile. "The last time someone tried to eat a bowl of it, they left with their teeth in a knapsack. Paulie's stays filled with ships' crews and those hoping to take a spot on one of the crews."

Still, the man ate the bread without pause. "What's the job and what's it pay?"

"Ten percent of the take. We normally haul things for people. I supposed you could call it a transportation-"

"Smuggling?"

"Well I-" Adam began.

"Look, I'm OK with the job. We're all running from something, right? But ten percent is low, don't you think?"

"How you figure?" Adam asked.

"It'll require handling weapons and getting shot at. Which again, I have no problem with as long as the money is right."

"You strike me as the military type, but definitely not Legion." Adam probed.

"You could say that," the man replied. "The Legion and I don't play well together."

"Colonial?" Adam asked.

"Gali Special Forces."

Gali. A planet on the far side of the Skyla System, opposite The Drifts. A remote planet fit for living a quiet, peaceful life, so long as you were tough enough to survive its heat.

"Gali? What brings you all the way-"

"I want fifteen percent and no questions. Those are my terms."

"Fifteen," Adam balked. That was a lot of money, given the fact that he knew nothing about the man. A military background certainly helped, but Gali? That was on the other side of the Skyla System and at least seven days of hard flying. It let Adam know that the stranger was indeed running from something and it must have been a pretty big something if he'd put that much distance between himself and Gali. "There's not a captain in here that will give you fifteen percent, including me. Look, here's what I figure. You're obviously on the run from something. I can handle that, hell I don't play nice with the Legion either. I can keep you under the radar and pay you a decent bit of coin, but fifteen percent is more than I end up with."

"Then I guess we're finished talking."

"OK." Adam said. Standing up with respect.

"What'd he say?" Dalton asked.

"He's thinking it over."

"Well fuck," Dalton said. "Did you try to low ball him or offer the same six percent you're paying me?"

"Oh no, I didn't low ball him."

Adam hoped that little fact didn't poke its ugly head up. He called it adjustable wages. The way he figured it, Dalton drank at least four percent worth of each take. Therefore, he'd given his friend the other six percent in actual coin. For Adam, the math was there, but arithmetic wasn't Dalton's strong suit. So it remained hush hush.

"Well to hell with it then." Dalton said, scowling at the new face. How greedy could a man be? Turning down six percent plus "free" drinks.

Suddenly, Adam caught a brief flash of red walking past the window. And then another, followed by yet another.

"Legion." he whispered.

It was the one thing that a man didn't want to see at Paulie's. No Legion soldier drank anything that came from a watering hole like this – redcoats were much too refined or, as Captain Lucas Noble put it: too weak to lift a beer bottle without dislocating their arms. It meant that the reds were here on official arresting business, and pretty much everyone in Paulie's was wanted for something.

The mere mention of it was enough to sober Dalton up like a young man sitting in the front pew of a church. Not only had they fought against the Legion during the First Glimmerian War to no avail, but since then, the redcoats hadn't exactly earned a reputation for being fair to citizens. Often times people disappeared for nothing more than a disorderly conduct charge – never to be heard from again.

"Shit."

Dalton began reaching for his sawed-off shotgun. A scatter gun was the proper definition, but seeing as how he'd sawed the barrel off his damn self, Dalton reckoned he could call it whatever he felt like.

"Too many reds," Adam cautioned. Easing his friends trigger finger. "Probably not even here for us."

"Adam Michaels!" one of the soldiers shouted. They wore the typical Legion gear: a thick red tactical jacket, black pants and boots and most notably, a red battle helmet with a heavily-tinted black face shield. "You're under arrest with the charge of illegal distribution of military weapons, per Section Seven, Article Fifteen."

There were three of them, each with a standard battle rifle.

"I haven't done-" Adam began.

A lie of course, and they'd have none of it.

"Shut up!" one of the soldiers warned. "That's for a Legion Judge to decided, not us. We have orders to bring you in, that's all."

Standing to his feet, Adam placed both hands behind his back. Preparing to be cuffed up, just as he'd been countless times before. With any luck he'd be shipped to a Legion prison and not scrubbed from existence in a nearby alley.

"You too, Dalton. We have warrants."

"Like hell you do!"

"You've got two failure to appears on Glimmeria, a parole violation on Versecca, and you struck four officers on Simolii."

"That last one I admit to," Dalton said, continuing to sit. "Sons of bitches had it comes, trying to lift a pack of imported smokes from me."

Once again, he considered raising his shotgun and finding out which side was better by way of a cloud of gun smoke. Dismissed as Adam shook his head.

"You know, I'm willing to negotiate a number we can both feel good about." the mysterious man said. Making his way to the fray.

"Get your red-backed asses out of here!" a man shouted from the rear of Paulie's, erupting laughter in the process.

"I can't do fifteen," Adam said. "But we can talk."

"Silence!" one of the guards warned.

"Twelve. Nothing lower."

"I can live with twelve." Adam replied.

"Twelve?" Dalton bitched. "That's three times what you're paying me!"

"Three times?" Roman asked.

Adam nodded and motioned for Dalton to keep his mouth shut.

"Back!" a guard shouted as the stranger approached.

"The name's Roman Raines."

As quickly as cheap beer runs to a man's stool, Roman struck one of the guards in the stomach with his boot. Then, lighting quick, he grabbed the Legion soldier's weapon and pointed the cookie cutter rifle into the direction of the two standing soldiers. Each fumbled with their own weapons for a moment before dropping them and reaching for the sky, much to the mockery of several drunk bar patrons.

"Fucking amateur hour," Dalton said. "The Legion comes in to arrest the two most notorious smugglers in the galaxy and sends these pee wee league fools."

"Notorious at what, bedding down the homely looking women?" Captain Lucas yelled.

Laughter erupted throughout the establishment and a mug of warm beer shadowed past Dalton's head and crashed into full bottles behind the bar.

"Quiet Lucas," Dalton barked. "Or I'll make it a point to stop by Ranson Four and bed down that old hag you call wife." And I'd do it, too. Just out of spite. Dalton thought.

"Sorry boys, but I've gotta run." Adam said. Bowing to the crowd of lowlifes who shared the common bond of crime. They laughed and cheered, much like a den of robbers cheering a local Robin Hood.

"Don't worry, we won't kill em," a man shouted. "We're just going to beat the shit out of 'em, hog tie 'em, and put them on a commercial freighter."

Still, the three Legion soliders, most likely greenhorns, looked like it could in fact be the end for them.

"No killing," Adam said. "Remember, it's not personal. They have a job to do and we hate their leaders – not them. Send 'em somewhere cold." he smiled.

"Get outta here with that do-right shit!"

Adam nodded. Wasting no time in running something fierce. Like any good criminal, he understood that the Legion would have more soldiers at Paulie's soon enough. And the three soldiers about to take a beating would likely be pinned on him as well.

"Good fighting back there." Adam said.

As all three men ran fast, whiskey bottles clanged together beneath Dalton's long brown duster.

"You stole whiskey?"

"Nabbed four bottles while the barkeep was watching the action," Dalton admitted. "But it ain't stealing. If anyone was stealing, it was him. Those drinks were way overpriced and you know it."

Roman looked at both men for a moment.

"Kelly. Have us ready to go quick."

Dalton held his radio out and waited for a reply.

"OK," the young woman replied. "Anything I should know about."

"The usual."

"Again?"

"This has happened before?" Roman asked.

"We're kind of known for it." Adam admitted.

"Prepped and ready." Kelly's voice replied.

"It's not too much further ahead... Just keep running." Adam said.

-

"Whoa now," Roman said as he approached the small ship. It was a Gunship alright, but it was in Frankenstein condition. The exterior was slapped together with different shades of blues and pale grays, which let him know that it was actually pieced together from various ships. Even the ramp that led into the ship looked like a death trap. "I'm not so sure about putting my life in the hands of-"

"Don't worry, she'll fly," Adam boasted. "I did a lot of the work myself. She doesn't look like much, but this Gunship has pulled me through a lot of close scrapes."

"Who's the new face?" a thin man asked. He held a shotgun at the ready.

"He's with us, Kato." Adam replied.

"He looks like trouble."

"Yea, and you look like a sunbathed heathen, you greasy-haired fuck," Dalton said. "Now put the gun away before you accidentally shoot somebody – namely me!"

Without so much as a word, Roman passed the skinny man on the ramp, black curls falling down to his shoulders. Roman offered him a stone-faced glance of dare.

"Go Kelly!" Adam yelled.

He quickly shuffled his way up a thin set of metal stairs. Meanwhile, Dalton grabbed one of the large brackets mounted to the wall near the ship's door. Roman was quick to take the other, leaving Kato as the odd man out. He pressed a large red button which began raising the ramp and sealing the ship's door, never taking his eyes off of Roman.

"We're underway," Kelly said. She left the bridge and appeared momentarily on the upper deck of the ship. Roman caught just enough of her to see that she was young, barely of age, and cute, all things considering. "The Legion is already looking for the ship."

"Hopefully we'll be gone before the come sniffing around the docks." Adam replied. He followed her back into the door which led to the ship's bridge. Poking his head back out for a moment, Adam shouted down.

"Dalton, when we're up and away, you get Roman settled in. He's bunking with you. Give him the grand tour."

"Will do," Dalton replied, turning his attention to their newest crew member. "You're going to love the gun room."

Suddenly, the ship jolted like a blast coaster at some local carnival of fools. Muscle worked against steel as every man held on against the turbulence. Moments later, the ship found itself in orbit and standing became much, much easier.

-

"So you left Gali?"

Roman nodded. "No questions. I thought that was the agreement?"

"Look, I'm not trying to start trouble; I only want to get to know you a little better. I used to command a platoon of Colonial troops until the Colonials backed down during the Glimmerian War. Afterwards, Dalton and I figured the Colonials owed us a ship at the very least, so we took one, removed the tracing software, and made it our home." Adam suggested.

Roman seemed OK with that.

"Dalton is my best friend and the most capable on this ship. He and I go a long ways back. We fought against the Legion during the first war and we've had our share of jail time together. He's like a big, loyal dog. Everyone on this ship deserves to be in jail for something or another, aside from Kelly. She's fresh out of flight school and like a sister to me and she's more important than any cargo we carry. Part of your job is to help me protect her. As you can imagine, we visit some pretty bad spots and she wouldn't be safe if we left it up to fate."

"Understood," Roman said. "And Kato?"

"Met him in prison. He's pretty blunt when it comes to what's on his mind and he ain't much to look at. Or so the ladies tell me. He's a mechanic on this rig by default. I did prison time with him and I trust him. He'll run his mouth to you but shoot someone else if they do the same."

Roman sat in the plush red chair for several moments. Not offering a word. Instead, he looked across the stars in front of them.

"The android's name is Luck."

"Android," Roman began. "You never said anything about an android."

"Is that a problem?"

"I grew up poor as a child back on Gali. For me, military service was the only way out," Roman began. "I did well, eventually rising in the ranks. But we were invaded during the Glimmerian War and the Legion soldiers were backed by androids. They killed a lot of people I cared about. I hadn't taken kindly to 'em since."

"Luck is nothing like you'd expect," Adam replied. "I won him in a poker game. He doesn't have a real job on this ship unless you'd consider bar-tending a vital part of the crew. He's been trained to fly the rig in the event of an emergency and Dalton's even tried working with him a little on handling a gun. But mostly, he picks up what he can when it comes to mechanic's work. Sometimes I send him down into the engine room just to piss Kato off."

Adam smiled wide.

"I'm not fond of killing unless someone's trying to kill me," Roman admitted. "Just want you to know that."

"The last bit of killing I did was during the war," Adam replied. "This job is dangerous, but if you get good enough at it you won't need to kill. Trust me, the other smugglers floating out here in the black shouldn't be trusted, but there's an honor system. Show 'em respect and most of 'em will give it back. Just don't take your eyes off of them."

Long after the conversation had ended and Roman had made his way to his new bunk, Adam sat in silence He watched the stars and thought of the ship's maintenance, his crew's safety, and value to the overall scheme of things. He even wondered, as he had done from time to time, what kind of life he would be living if he were settled down on a decent planet somewhere and begin living a normal life.

At times he found himself missing the feeling of settling down with a wife and kids, even though it wasn't a feeling that he had been fortunate enough to experience. But he'd seen it throughout his travels. Part of his soul longed for a stereotypical life.

But the thoughts that raced through his head all too often seemed to end up with the same conclusion. He loved what he was doing, from the near fatal gunfights to the deep space travel. Especially the deep space travel.

Deep space travel was hard to explain and the one thing that a normal life cheated folks out of. The near-frigid temperatures of the ship's interior that you were forced into getting used to. The constant silence of a vast nothingness as you learn to block out the sound of the ship's engines, all while surviving on freeze dried rations and what few supplies you were able to load before leaving the last settled world.

It sounded horrible until you learned to appreciate the beauty of the stars slowly passing you by; almost as if memories were being relived in slow motion. It made Adam feel alive. During their flights he often could feel the blood pulsing through his veins and the warmth of his own heartbeat.

Most people will say that the stars are all the same, but the moment you begin to appreciate the simple things, suddenly you realize how beautifully different every trip becomes. Each pattern of stars had a way of intertwining itself with a memory that he was rather fond of. As Adam sat on the observation deck, he had almost as many thoughts racing through his head as stars spread out in front of him.

None of his problems seemed to matter. All of the problems within the system, the challenges his crew faced every single day and the friends he had lost during the Glimmerian War; all of that was simply put on hold every time his ship became interlocked with the stars. It was the one place that nothing else mattered. Any other time he could see the faces of friends he'd lost – he could see the faces of people he'd killed during the war. But during his flights through deep space, they all seemed to go away for a few moments.

-

"Into the steel I see." Roman said.

Dalton continued meticulously cleaning nearly a dozen weapons. Each with its own look of attitude. Everything from the basic combat pistol to the punishing double-barrel shotgun; it was all right here, spread out on a coarse brown blanket in front of them.

"I'm into the steel, the hard liquor, and the steel that produces the hard liquor," Dalton said. Cracking a smile. "I'm also infamous with bedding down the ladies, you might have heard?" he added.

"Nope." Roman replied with a sarcastically fluctuation of his eyes.

"What about you? I'm sure you've had your hands on plenty of steel yourself in Gali?" Dalton asked.

"There's not a lot I miss about Gali to be honest. Just a bunch of trees and political corruption," Roman replied. "Yea, I've been trained with quite a bit of everything but still prefer the tactical blade," Roman said, pulling a combat knife from a black leather band that wrapped around his leg. "It never jams up on you and it's just as accurate." he added.

Suddenly, he threw the blade end over end throughout the room with blazing speed, hitting the wooden post of Dalton's makeshift gun rack. The bulk of the blade buried deep within its unfortunate wooden fibers.

"Tell me. What is a man to do when his gun jams up during battle?"

"First off," Dalton said. Hoisting his sawed off shotgun to the ready. "If a man knows his guns then he also knows they don't jam up when cared for properly."

He fired two loud blasts from the gun which cut the wood down, smashing it to the floor with a thud.

"But, if by chance it does," Dalton smiled. Quickly, he brought two revolvers around from the back of his belt. Eight shots total and all that remained was a pile of wooden shards and a combat blade. "He always brings a backup."

"Nice accuracy." Roman said.

"You should see me when I'm sober." Dalton replied.

Roman knelt down to fetch his combat blade. Meanwhile, Dalton stood there with his chest pushed out like a proud father.

A few moments after he had placed the shotgun back in line with the other weaponry, Kato burst into the room, gun in hand, and suspecting their newest crew member.

"You know, I normally consider it a rule to kill anyone who draws down on me twice." Roman said.

"Is that a fact?" Kato asked, tightening his grip on the weapon as he continued a deadlocking stare with Roman.

"Calm down you jackass, I fired the shots, not him." Dalton said, making his way to Kato in a threatening manner.

"Right now I don't care who fired the shots. He just threatened to kill me." Kato replied.

"Oh, it wasn't a threat." Roman said.

The air in the room was tense enough to be carved out with a blade.

"RELAX! Nobody's killing anyone," Adam said as he entered the room. "You put that piece away Kato," Adam added. "NOW!" he yelled, finally convincing Kato to slowly lower his weapon.

"Pull a gun on me-" Roman began to yell, charging into the direction of Kato. Adam drew his revolver with blistering speed, holding Roman at gunpoint.

Roman was well-trained in the art of war. But he had never seen a man with a gun hand faster than Adam, earning his respect. All of the sudden he looked at the ship's captain like one of those gunslingers he used to read about as a child – charming but dangerious.

"This ends right now. Everyone understand? In our line of work, I can't have fights amongst my own crew. We've got enough people out there who want us dead." he asked.

No one replied.

"It either ends now or I'll personally airlock anyone who has a problem with it and hire more guns when we land on Tameca," Adam added.

Seconds later, Kato walked away.

Roman held his hands up and backed off slowly.

"Good, after seeing what you did to those damn Legion soldiers, I'd have to hire two men to replace you. And I don't want to spend that kind of money." Adam said.

"Or free beers." Dalton added.

What free beers? Roman thought.

"You know, you may want to be a little friendlier when it comes to Roman. He could end up saving your life one day." Adam said.

It took a bit of jogging, but he'd caught up to his mechanic.

"That will be the day." Kato replied,

Turning to enter the confined engine room, Adam stood for a moment; watching him disappear into the steam filled cave made of faded grey steel.

"Look, I'm asking as a friend-"

Suddenly Kato reappeared. Letting the warm steam blow across his rather sickly looking frame.

"Look, that guy's hiding something. I don't know what it is and I can't prove it, but I have a gut feeling."

"We're all hiding from something."

"No," Kato insisted. "I'm hiding from the Legion. You and I have full disclosure. You know that I grew up in the middle of that shit-show called Glimmeria. You know my rap; busted twice for boosting ships. You know that I like spicy food and cold beer. And that I sleep on my side because I can't stand to stare up at the ceiling like I'm dead. You don't know shit about this new guy. None of us do."

"It's my ship." Adam reminded.

"Yes it is," Kato agreed. "And if you don't want me keeping an eye on him – fine. But someone needs to do it. If I end up dead in my sleep...or Kelly, well, that blood will be on your hands."

Once again his mechanic disappeared into a veil of steam. Adam stood there for a moment, listening to hands digging through a metal toolbox. He understood. As much as he wanted to trust Roman Raines, the mysterious man had yet to earn it. He'd be the one to keep an eye on their newest crew member.

-

"System checks out fine." Luck said, his upper body lay under the control panel of the pilot's gauges.

"All right, everything looks good up here as well, switching over to auto-pilot." Kelly replied, clicking several buttons as she stood from the plush leather seat to see Adam board the small bridge area.

"How's the grid?" Adam asked.

"We didn't pick up anything on our way out other than a little com traffic, looks like a clean getaway. Aside from some distant commercial traffic we're all green on the board, captain." Kelly replied.

"Good. That's good." he replied, taking a seat in one of the two chairs stationed behind the pilot.

"We got into a little bit of local trouble with the Legion back there. They shouldn't exactly be combing the system looking for us. I don't see them wasting the resources," Adam added. "I need you to plot a new course out for us. We need to make a stop in Tameca before hitting the outer plains." Adam said as both Kelly and Luck looked on.

"Yes sir, Captain. We have a job in Tameca?" Kelly replied curiously.

"Not sure just yet, maybe; it'll be a big payout for all of us if things work out the way I'm hoping." Adam replied.

The thought of the Hunters were cemented into his mind throughout the entire conversation. He kept telling himself that sometimes earning a good amount of credits meant doing things you didn't want to do. Or, in this case, working for the most notorious group of killers in the Skyla System.

"I'll pull everybody together when we get there and go over all of the details. Try to bring us to the edge of Tameca City somewhere, without drawing a lot of attention. Just in case the Legion is still looking. And good job back there." the Captain replied with a nod as he left the bridge to head to his rack for a few hours of much needed slumber.

The hazy grey rain began hammering the Gunship the moment it made its approach into Tameca's atmosphere. It had been a very short flight, having left one of its farthest moons before flying into one of the larger planets in the system. The rain was a welcomed sight to the captain as he awaken to see the distant city skyline from a small circular window near his bunk. He'd always enjoyed the tranquil sound of rainfall. He was also glad to be landing, still he couldn't help but think cautiously of the hidden dangers that always came attached to such a setting. A gigantic planet, which was predominately covered with water, held one of the most highly populated cities throughout the system. Tameca City, known for its massive number of ports; it was a smuggler's paradise.

Sure, there was a Legion presence in Tameca City, however the run of docking ports was so immense that they simply couldn't check them all, relying on the help from its citizens. The same citizens who feared the most ruthless clan of criminals on Tameca, or any of its moons for that matter. The hunters.

They were highly-organized vampires. As a group of criminals, they were feared, even by the Legion soldiers themselves; which served as a free pass to conduct underhanded business and wreak havoc abroad. If the hunters couldn't buy an officer of the law – they'd just kill them instead. It was the cannibalistic nature of the kill that most people feared. The hunters were sadistic and they had their own agenda. They were thought of as immortal, but bled and occasionally were even killed. Often among their own people.

Still, the fact that they moved with exceptional speed and were so proficient with hand-to-hand combat only added to their legend of immortality. It was the hunters who had brought the Gunship to Tameca for the possibility of a high-paying. Though the rest of his crew remained unaware of the fact.

Adam didn't like the idea of dealing with clientele such as the hunters; but they had been looking for someone to move goods and were offering a lot of credits to anyone who was brave enough, or stupid enough, to accept the job. Most of the star system's worst turned a blind eye. To hell with the money, no matter how much. It was a very risky job, one the captain knew he had to take in order to make financial ends meet. They needed fuel for the ship and food to eat; although selling the idea to the crew wasn't going to be the easiest of tasks.

With the crew gathered in the loading bay area of the ship and the vessel snugly nestled between two large hills of high grass, or as smugglers like to call it, a hairy nook, the captain knew that it was now or never. He had to sell the idea of working for a group with a name that was more ruthless than the luck that he had been burdened with his entire life. They would be lucky to finish the interview, much less the job unscathed, and it would take every one of them to pull it off. There was a chance that they'd die trying to deliver the goods. Adam knew if it had been easy, the vampires would have delivered it themselves. Plus, with the hunters, there was always the chance that they would simply kill everyone at the end of the day and keep their money.

"The hunters! Have you lost your damn mind Adam?" Dalton yelled as the rest of the crew looked on. His loud voice echoed against the hollow walls of the nearly empty cargo bay, with only a few steel crates in sight.

The hunters? Roman thought. What were the odds?

"I don't care how much it pays! If I can't kill 'em, then I don't want to go into business with the bastards!" he added.

"Relax, will 'ya? We do the job and collect the money. That's it. It's that simple." Adam replied.

"I'm with you, captain. Vampires don't intimidate me." Kato added.

"Easy for you to say, sitting back here at the fort while my dick's out there on the chopping block!" Dalton replied angrily.

"Captain, what does he mean you can't kill them?" Kelly asked.

Adam frowned slightly, looking at the floor for a moment before looking back into her direction. Before he could say anything, Roman calmly replied.

"They die. It's not easily done, but possible. I've put a few in the grave myself."

Adam spun around to see Roman still sitting on an empty crate behind him, quickly asking "You can?".

Roman replied with a slow nod.

"Define a few?" Adam asked.

The look he received from the former Gali soldier let him know that it was a good damn many. Only legitimizing Kato's worries.

"I've put an entire rifle clip into one of the beasts myself! It did little to slow it down; much less kill it!" Dalton said with disbelief, as the rest of the crew looked on.

"What do you mean beasts? Captain?" Kelly asked, glancing hard at Adam.

"Go on Adam, tell her." Dalton said with heavy sarcasm, earning a long glance from his old friend.

"Everybody just calm down for a minute. Relax. Take a deep breath?" Michaels said, trying unsuccessfully to lighten the spirit of the crew.

"Nobody's having a baby," Dalton said. "So you can drop that shit."

"All right, they are a pretty ruthless bunch." Adam said. Feeding Kelly's fear.

And she had reason to be afraid. The hunters' hair and skin was void of pigment. They wore solid black leather attire and above all things was their uncanny desire to feast on the flesh of human beings.

"Any person that eats another person has some damn issues," Dalton said with heartfelt emotion. "Unless she's good lucking and it ain't for keeps."

"Damn straight." Kato seconded.

Not that he'd eaten a woman who he didn't have to blow up first in quite a long time.

Even though they kept to themselves as a secret society, the hunters were infamous among the citizens of the star system. They were demonic in nature; relying on sleek weaponry and a code of honor that rivaled even the warrior families of the small planet of Benza.

"Doesn't matter. By the time you and Luck get back with the supplies and the ship checks out flight ready, we should be back from our meeting with the hunters and then it's business as usual." Adam said, trying to calm the crew down before turning to get a list of needed supplies from Kato.

They didn't like it. Hell, neither did he. But Adam was smart enough to realize that they were out of options. Their fuel reserve had all but dried up and they were rationing food among the crew. His career as one of the star system's most notorious smugglers was now on life support. And he couldn't see any of them retiring from it to lead a normal life.

-

As Adam turned to the exit of the ship, he could see Dalton and Roman gearing up for the much anticipated meeting; both men looking more than ready. Roman was equipped with his large combat blade, which was all the steel he needed. It lay against the upper part of his hip, beneath a thick black leather strap.

Meanwhile, Dalton was going heavy. And for him that spoke volumes. He had an arm-sized bowie knife strapped tightly to one of his legs, with two older knocker pistols strapped to the other. They'd earned their unique nickname from the ability to either cut a man in half at point blank range; or bash in the unlucky victim's skull quite easily with the brass shielding at the bottom of the weapon's handle. He also wore a black flack jacket which held several grenades as well as two short barrel shotguns. Both guns draped across his shoulders and crossed behind his head.

"Bringing a lot to the table, don't you think?" Adam said.

"That's what she said." Dalton replied, laughing for a moment,

Adam continued to stare at his friend, refusing to give in.

Finally, Dalton lamented and began taking the flack jacket off. Tossing it onto a nearby table and easing each grenade down softly.

"Alright, but that's it. The knife stays." he swore.

"Fair enough." Adam finally grinned.

"Hold the fort down until we get back" Dalton said.

He glanced at Kato sarcastically as the three men headed for the exit ramp.

"Kelly, you and Luck grab everything we need. And get plenty of fuel. Stay in contact with the ship – Kato, see to it that you stay near a radio. Try to steer clear of any Legion eyes on the street. We don't need that on top of what's already on our plate. Getting this over as quick as possible and getting back into orbit would suit me just fine." Adam said.

Kato nodded with understanding as he prepped the rover.

It was nothing more than a large, mechanical vehicle used for carrying cargo. Still, Kelly and Luck looked very comfortable. Meanwhile, Dalton started out of the cargo bay door with the others, immediately hammered by a cuttingly cold rainfall.

Fucking android gets a smooth ride and I'm walking?

Dalton glanced back for a second. The droplets of water crashed around with tiny splashes of tranquil bliss. It would have been relaxing, if not for the fact that it was so cold. The rain was nearly turning to ice as a result.

"If we end up marching through this shit-show of rain and end up dead, I'm never going to forgive you." he said.

Roman began laughing loud, but not loud enough to be heard in the rain.

Even Captain Michaels chuckled for a moment. He had to admit it, Dalton was right. They had nearly a mile walk in front of them in some of the worst rainfall he'd ever seen. Only to meet with gangsters that could very well kill them. That, or they'd take on a job and be paid handsomely for it. Probably just wishful thinking.

They had walked nearly a hundred yards when the rover passed by, throwing water and splashing Dalton something fierce. He retaliated by reaching down into the mud, finding a decent rock and hurling it at the rover. What good would it do? One crude rock against reinforced steel? It only served to ease Dalton's nerves a bit.

Adam tried his best to ignore Dalton's generous flow of curse words that followed, focusing on the city which sat on the horizon. As usual, it was easier said than done.

Adam had been here a few times before, but could never quite get past the size of it. Tens of millions of people had come from every corner of the system to call Tameca City home. A lot of good citizens lived here, raised families and worked hard every day to earn their place. Its lights shined into the sky, even against the thick rainfall. If nothing else, Tameca City had become famous for both its endless night skies and the massive concentration of lights within its limits.

A city of this magnitude was easy to get lost in, making it a smuggler's paradise. Although Adam wouldn't admit it, everyone he had ties with in the city was on the wrong side of the legal system. It seemed like everywhere he went in Tameca, he found trouble. Sometimes he had a hand in it. Well, usually he had a hand in it. But he'd always tried to convince himself that he had been incorrectly branded because of the few times when he was truly in the wrong place at the wrong time.

They were scheduled to meet at the Dusk Tavern, which was perhaps the vilest establishment in Tameca City. The hunters conducted their business there for a reason. During normal operating hours, the Dusk Tavern was home to raging fistfights among drunken criminals. After closing time, the real business took place.

It was bad enough to be going to Dusk Tavern at all. But to march with cold liquid piercing their bodies from head to toe the entire time? Adam couldn't think of a single reason that anyone would put themselves through such a drenching walk only to wind up at the worst possible destination imaginable. A place where closing duties included sweeping up loose teeth and mopping up a mixture of blood and ale.

"At least they've got good drink at the Dusk." Dalton said, grinning ear to ear and he began thirsting for stiff whiskey.

Adam shook his head for a moment before glancing up into the sky, wondering if there truly was a higher power that made a full-time job out of torturing him. He was worried about his own life. Yet he travelled with a complete stranger and an ale-crazed drunk.

After walking for half an hour or so in clothes that were clinging to their skin from the rain, the three men arrived at the edge of the Tameca City. The bright lights and hustle of thousands of bodies were a welcome sight to anyone who had just been on a trip through the system. Though Adam wanted them to draw as little attention to themselves as possible.

It only took a few moments of holding up a fistful of credits before a transport shuttle came to a screeching halt; adding a few more dings to the already wretched yellow paint job. It was like a roll of the dice whenever you used a city shuttle in Tameca City.

Sometimes you would land an android at the controls, and they weren't exactly famous for their conversational skills. Other times, you'd find a former convict or drunken lowlife behind the wheel who would give you the entire laundry list of rumors throughout the city in five blocks or less.

After a couple of minutes of convincing the driver, who Dalton swore did jail time with him several years back on the small moon planet of Jocom, that they truly did want to go to the Dusk Tavern; the older man put down his small flask of booze and began the trip. Adjusting his mirror in order to see them all in the back seat.

"Everyone is talking about another civil war between the planets," the driver said as he passed the first intersection on his way to the bad side of town; traffic so thick it was almost unbearable. "The Tameca City Council will be voting on it one way or another this week, but everyone that lives here knows that it's just a tactic to stall for time while we raise a large enough army. A lot of Colonial soldiers weren't finished when the first war ended, myself included. Fucking redcoats." he added.

Adam nodded, but he was done. He'd made it out of the first war alive, somehow. Even as a prisoner that had been forced to fight. Adam had watched almost everyone he'd ever known, cut down by the snapping rifles of the Legion. Escaping that war alive had been a blessing and he didn't plan to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Dalton had fought the war, too. But he had other things on his mind. Using his fingers in instructive fashion, Dalton versed Roman on what the Dusk had to drink behind its bar...and what drinks to avoid.

"So, what business do you guys have at the Dusk?" the driver asked.

"No business of yours." Roman replied.

He'd listen to a cab driver's bullshit, that came with the price of admission. But he had no intentions of spilling his own business.

"What my friend means is...we are meeting some old friends there. The kind of friends who wouldn't really like to be the subject of conversation. And trust me, you're better off not knowing." Adam replied in a much friendlier tone.

"Understandable." the driver said politely.

He gave the Roman a look filled with ill feelings.

"I simply meant that it's a rough place. Wasn't sure why anybody would go there willingly is all." the driver said in a calm but probing voice.

Dalton broke his stare from the window to answer.

"They got damn good liquor there. Some of the finest I've put these lips on, and trust me I've been around."

The driver looked puzzled for a moment before answering with a grin.

"Yes, I bet you have."

"What the hell is that supposed-" Dalton began to ask, turning his entire body to the driver in the process. But before he could finish, he was cut off by his old friend.

"Can we stop with the drinking already?" Adam asked Don't you think about anything other than rum, ale and whiskey?"

Dalton began to think long and hard. He resembled a monkey during some type of significant experimental training. Perplexed, he placed a finger to his chin.

"Well yea. I mean if you're going to bring it up. I like guns. Lots and lots of guns. And women. You know how I like my women." he finally replied.

Roman broke out into a loud laugh for several seconds. He'd met plenty of characters during his time as a solider. But never anyone quite like Dalton James.

The remainder of the ride lasted only a few minutes and was funeral quiet. Dalton thought of women, in particular – brunettes. Roman tried to understand his new booty-chasing friend and Adam knew that there was no understanding Dalton. He was like a spontaneous child who drank like a fish, swore like a sailor, bedded down any woman that was half willing; Dalton also happened to be good with a gun.

The shuttle arrived at the Dusk Tavern and the driver looked around with paranoia. The engine ran as loud as could be expected from the vintage model; clanging of steel rods could be heard from its engine compartment for nearly a city block.

Adam handed the driver a small fist full of credits and thanked him. Both Dalton and Roman were already standing outside of the yellow car, waiting. Perhaps the drink would run dry if they waited a moment longer?

"Well, the place hasn't changed a bit." Adam said.

Wooden boards made up its exterior. The building itself looked solid enough, but the wooden boards that trimmed it out were faded. The roof was as shiny as it had been during production, nearly fifty years ago. Locals had long believed that the aluminum roofing was put into place to block the overhead scans from the city's security choppers, not that the security force was brave enough to enter the Dusk Tavern either way. They would have ended up just as dead as anyone else who came at the hunters with a lawman's look in their eye.

The Dusk Tavern had but one entrance; guarded by two of the largest soldiers that any of them had ever seen. Adam approached with confidence, while Dalton nearly trampled his friend with a look of whiskey in his eyes. Roman was cautious. He had his reasons.

Both soldiers had solid black shirts beneath tactical vests. They also wore cargo pants and boots and fit the profile of higher end mercenaries. Armed with light machine guns, they were the type of security that if you weren't on the list; you weren't getting in..

As the three men approached a waist-high podium with a computer screen on its top, Adam placed his hand on the glowing green glass; trying his best to look casual as every fingerprint was thoroughly scanned. It was very sophisticated, yet appeared monochrome. After a few moments, the soft green glass illuminated bright white and the security detail slowly opened the door.

"Adam Michaels, they're expecting you." one of the mercenaries said. His voice was very foreign and certainly not of the human race.

Each of the men entered with caution, taking extra time to survey the surroundings.

The room was nothing more than a small wooden bar that was polished to a very fine grain, along with a handful of stools and several thick wooden tables near the entrance. They were also quick to notice a door behind the bar at the rear. Walking into its direction, Dalton would get into position to cover it just in case things went sour, or at least Adam thought.

"Well, here's the liquor." Dalton proclaimed.

He completely disregarded the rear door from that point forward, while cradling a bottle of molasses black bourbon. Smiling as if he had just become a father for the first time. It was normally a drink that he couldn't afford. A single bottle cost as many credits as it took to fill the Gunship with fuel. He'd heard of its stoutness, but he'd drink it back on the ship with very little problem. Then he'd either make a lamp from the classy bottle or trade it, completely empty, for something else he desired.

So this is what the Dusk looks like after hours. Roman thought.

Glancing around the room, he didn't dare admit he'd been here before.

The room was barely bright enough to see. There were only a few white track lights on the ceiling and a handful of red lights, giving the room a subdued crimson glow at the foot of the bar. It was empty for the moment, however that didn't stop Dalton from helping himself to a shot glass. After stuffing a couple of the higher end bottles into his jacket, he began shots from a third. He stood behind the counter preparing his drinks as if he were working for tips. The the rush of anticipation finally caught up with him. The hunters could skin him alive if they wanted to.

He quickly joined the others at a small wooden table near the center of the room with fine drink clinging to his breath like fancy cockroaches. Meanwhile, Adam kept his eyes locked on the rear door. Roman, who'd had his fair share of hunters already, kept watch on the main entrance.

"Damn good bourbon, I'll say that much." Dalton said.

He was nervous. Adam could sense that much. But he wasn't nervous enough to put the stolen bottles of sweet liquor back. Instead, Adam reached over and did what he could to pull Dalton's jacket over the bottles, which hung out like a set of lactating tits.

"I don't like waiting around like this." Roman said.

"So what do you think they are needing moved so damn bad?" Dalton asked.

It was a good question, considering the kind of stroke the hunters had within the underground of corruption.

"I don't know, but it looks like we are about to find out." Adam replied.

Two figures appeared from the door directly behind the bar. Bringing each man of the Gunship's crew to a tense state.

As the figures approached, it became obvious that they were in fact, vampires. One of them was much larger than the other and they were both dressed in black leather, even down to the thick laced boots. Chalk white skin against deep black leather made Dalton regret his choice to thieve booze.

"The infamous Adam Michaels," the smaller of the two vampires said. "Captain of the infamous Gunship. Former Colonial soldier and, as of only a few hours ago, wanted by Legion authorities."

"Wouldn't think much of that. The Legion's always after me for one reason or another." Adam replied.

"Still, I would think it would be bad timing."

"With respect," Adam began. "I'm infamous for a reason. I'm here because you need something moved without being caught and I'm the guy who can do it. I don't get caught. So if we could move on to the details."

"Very well, my name is Anwick. There was never any mention of escorts coming with you to the meeting." he said.

The vampire seemed visibly upset by the intrusion. In particular, he kept his eyes on Roman rather closely.

He motioned toward them slightly with one of his hands, prompting the larger of the two hunters to approach the men. The beast was at least a foot taller than anyone else in the room and his arms were swollen from use. Muscles rippled beneath his leather outfit and there was a vicious dead look in his eyes.

As the larger vampire began to disarm them, Roman spun around and onto his feet; grabbing the hunter's wrist with one hand and using the other to slam its head straight through the wooden table, throwing prickly shards throughout the room.

Anwick stood to his feet.

"What is the meaning of this?" he shouted.

Suddenly, Anwick found himself looking at the bad end of two shotgun barrels, both in the grasp of a slightly tipsy Dalton.

"You realize that at my signal, I could have this room filled with soldiers who would kill and dismember you within thirty seconds!" Anwick stated firmly. And he certainly wasn't bluffing about that.

Roman applied pressure to the arm of the larger of the two vampires, earning a painful screech.

"Who are you?" Anwick began to investigate Roman.

"Me?" Roman replied. "I'm nobody."

Still, Anwick looked anything but convinced. Meanwhile, his large friend flailed around in the floor like a helpless child.

"Relax! Everyone just relax," Adam said loudly as he remained seated. "You honestly didn't expect me to walk in here alone did you? We both know what kind of reputation your kind has, and I would hope that you would consider me to be smarter than that. I'm good at what I do, and that includes knowing every situation before I go in, including this one. You and I are here to do business, so let's do it."

As Anwick sat down slowly, he immediately glanced at Roman, who still had a commanding hold on his much larger opponent.

"Roman, let him go." Adam said.

Responding with a slight nod, he pushed the large hunter several feet back, releasing his arm with the same motion.

"Lexion! Enough!" Anwick yelled as the brutish vampire began to walk directly toward Roman a second time.

An awkward moment of silence fell across the entire room. It quickly became evident to Adam that should the hunters have their way, Roman was unlikely to walk out of the Dusk Tavern alive. As captain, he couldn't let that happen.

"Anwick, I apologize. My crew is very protective when it comes to me as well as the cargo we transport. I hope you'll view this as an advantage when considering us for the job." Adam said in an attempt to settle the dispute.

Anwick gazed through Roman for a few more seconds before breaking his stare and looking directly at Adam

"Very well. We have business to discuss," Anwick replied. "It's because you come so highly recommended that we are meeting here today," Anwick added. "Simply put, we have a package that we need to you take and deliver in exactly one week's time to Gastonia. You will earn fifteen thousand credits today and another thirty thousand at the time of delivery." Anwick added, stating the terms with great clarity. His long and brittle white hair swayed slightly as he spoke his peace.

Adam remained quiet for a few moments, finally giving his answer to the business proposal.

"It's going to cost you twenty five thousand up front and another twenty five thousand upon delivery."

Anwick drew in several long, heavy breaths before replying slowly.

"Adam, I do not negotiate. I offer the terms, you take them. That's how the hunters conduct our business."

Adam glanced over into the direction of Dalton, trying to figure out how many shots his friend had taken.

"I'm not negotiating. We both know it's a complicated delivery, otherwise you would have taken care of it yourself. I'm guessing either a large Legion presence or perhaps even something to do with the upcoming war. That's going to complicate my job quite a bit and a complicated job pays what it's worth in risk. Otherwise, I'm not the right man for the job. That's how I do business. There are plenty of other smugglers out there who're willing to do the job for what you're offering – though I can't guarantee that they'll see it through. Again, I'm infamous for a reason." Adam replied.

Anwick stood straight to his feet. A few moments later, Adam did the same.

"Very well," Anwick answered as both men stood only inches from one another. "I'll pay what you ask, but let me tell you this. You have one week. One. If you are even a second behind schedule on delivery, you should pray to the Gods that the authorities find you before we do. Otherwise death will be the least of your concerns."

Anwick gave a slight hand motion, prompting Lexion to walk to the door behind the bar. The large vampire gave three hard thumps on it with his bone crushing fist. Seconds later, the door opened as four more men dressed similar to the ones outside of the Dusk Tavern entered. Men, not full-blown vampires, and they were trimmed in red. Giving Adam an unsettling in his stomach. However, things quickly became much more complicated than he'd expected.

They were escorting a female prisoner. Her hands were bound with thick rope and most importantly, she was in trouble. He'd always had a complex when it came to that. Adam could see how well she was dressed and understood that she was either important or she meant a lot to someone important.

Shit.

"What's with the girl?" Adam asked.

A formality, of course. He already knew the answer.

"You mean the package?" Anwick said with a smile. The dim light bounced off of his shard like teeth. "One week." he added.

Anwick held a single finger up closely in front of Adam's face before preparing himself to exit the room. He'd planned on taking a bit of good drink with him, but suddenly found that none was to be had. He glanced to his large vampire friend for a moment. He'd accuse him of drinking it later, behind closed doors..

One of the armed men dropped a black leather bag to the ground at Adam's feet.

Thousands of Legion credits spilled over. Enough to fuel the ship, hell enough to buy a ship. The truth was that Adam would have done the job for half of the original price. At least prior to seeing the bound woman. But he was masterful when it came to bluffing his ass off. Adam understood that only a fool would bluff the hunters, hence they'd not call him out on his empty threats of walking away from the table. He looked at the men for a moment and tried not to grin wide, eventually reaching down and grabbing the bag.

Lexion held the door open. For a moment, the polluted air of the city sent a glimmer of light from the city streets as well as a push of civilized air into the Dusk Tavern. Rather than the stench of death and stolen bourbon.

"May we meet again." Lexion said with a smile..

Roman quickly rose to his feet.

"I look forward to it."

He quietly tapped his fingers across the handle of his combat knife.

Dalton finished off the rest of his shot glass in one quick motion; alcohol burned a familiar path all the way down to the pit of his stomach.

"My compliments to the chef."

As they began to leave, Lexion yelled loudly, prompting one of the well-armed soldiers for hire to lead a young boy dressed in tattered blue clothing into the room at gunpoint. Meanwhile, Anwick looked Roman over. He looked familiar.

"Wait, they have a child in there!" the woman yelled. Her voice as soft as a a pile of fresh marshmallows.

"Not our fight," Dalton replied. He'd known his friend Adam long enough to see the conflict in his eyes. Damn him and his complex to rescue helpless women! "We are talking about vampires here Adam. Two of them, not to mention a pile of tin soldiers."

"Please! They are going to kill him! Troy is innocent! He has nothing to do with the coming war!" she shouted desperately.

Tears began flooding her vivid blue eyes.

"Please!" she said once more, grabbing Adam by the arm.

Adam felt the urge to do the right thing beginning to overtake his better judgement. He glanced to his old friend for a moment. Apologizing without words.

"Wait..." Anwick said. "I know you!"

He'd finally pinned Roman Raines down in his head. Perhaps one of the most-wanted men throughout all of the Skyla System, especially within the vampire community.

"Ah shit!" Dalton was able to push from his lungs.

At the same time, Adam turned back into the direction of the door.. Kicking it with a solid boot, the reinforced door quickly flew open, smacking abruptly against the wall behind it and gaining the attention of Anwick, Lexion and the four heavily armed men who were obvious Legion soldiers.

Adam's pistol threw two shots from the chamber. The first hit one of the armed men in the forehead and dropped him like a stone. The second shot pierced the chest of another soldier, throwing him against the wall. He then slid down into a sitting position with a thud. Leaving a trail of bloodstain as he died.

Adam knew well enough to seek cover before attempting a third shot, diving behind a table in the corner of the room just in time. Dozens of slugs began to chew at the wooden barricade that separated them. The two soldiers began walking slowly into Adam's direction, escorting themselves with a blanket of lead from their automatic weapons. Instead, they were both knocked to the ground forcefully by the shotgun Dalton held in his right hand. His breath was rancid with booze, but his aim was true.

An expert of his surroundings, Dalton immediately dropped the empty weapon and spun around into the direction of the front door, putting a two handed grip on his other peacemaker. Anticipating the guards out front rushing them, he blindly fired two shots into the direction of the entrance. The first shell hit the frame of the door, sending up a wooden cloud of splinters, while the second shot found a target on one of the soldiers who fell to the ground, squealing like a stuck pig and eventually bleeding out.

Dropping his second empty weapon, Dalton took shelter beside the door, drawing both of his knocker pistols at once. He noticed the dim light of the Dusk's interior shimmering across the brass inlays.

How pretty.

During the exchange of gunfire, Adam had made his way to the boy and began to free his hands of the tightly bound rope. Suddenly, Lexion threw a backhand into his direction, sending the captain several feet across the room. Smashing against several well-stocked crates, Adam fell limp onto the floor beneath a storm of loose items.

"Seize that one! He's wanted by our queen!" Anwick yelled.

Yep. Adam sure could pick 'em.

"Son of a bitch!" Dalton said as he watched bottles of whiskey being blown into splashes of waste by enemy gunfire.

Lexion followed the path of destruction which led to Adam and ultimately, to Roman. Anwick stood for a moment, taken back for a moment by the devastation. He then chose to focus his anger on the men. He'd end them both himself if it came down to it. Anwick's hands clamored for revenge, shaking with fury. Both vampires approached Adam, who was beaten and laying defenseless on his back.

"Me first." Roman yelled, successfully gaining their undivided attention and daring the walking beasts to a fight.

Anwick quickly made his way into the direction of the marked man. The queen had long waited for Roman's capture, dead or alive. The reward was all the same and Anwick would surely rise in power.

Lexion followed Anwick's lead, releasing the grip he had on the front of Adam's shirt and allowing him to fall back to the ground.

Roman pulled his combat pistol long enough to throw it across the room, watching it slide across the rough wooden boards of the floor. Immediately after, he drew his tactical blade and squeezed his hands for a moment; bursting his knuckles back to life. His eyes told a story all their own.

The boy was able to free himself in the following moments, running to the safety of the beautiful lady he considered a friend as she stood behind Dalton. He fired several shots from his two knocker pistols, finally clipping the soldier outside on the shoulder and putting him down. Rendering him defenseless.

"Kato, I'm activating the beacon. Come get us now!" Dalton said. Trying like hell to catch his breath. He pushed a sequence of buttons on his com unit, immediately throwing it out into the street. A small globe on the front of the com beginning to emit a soft white glow.

"Now we hold tight and pray that our ride gets here before they finish us off."

Dalton glanced to the woman and child, putting them behind a small table near the door and checking the magazines of his pistols; the unmistakable odor of hooch stayed on his breath like an unwelcome stray dog.

When Adam finally started to get his bearings in order, he realized nothing on him was broken and began to slowly crawl into the direction of where his pistol had hit the floor. Pieces of glass crunched softly under his bare palms. He didn't see his side-arm right away, instead he caught sight of a large piece of mirror laying on the floor at the corner of the bar. He was confident that he had never seen a fight like the one that was reflecting back to him through the reciprocating glass. He could see Roman's body moving with perfect coordination as he carved flesh with both blade and boot.

The mysterious ex-soldier landed several fast punches into the face of Lexion, momentarily stunning him while his kick found its home in the chest of Anwick, staggering him back a few feet. More surprised than hurt, Anwick quickly unleashed his own flurry of lightning fast punches and elbows onto Roman. Most of them found their mark and sent the Gunship's newest crew member to one of his knees.

Furious, Lexion wasted no time putting a choke hold on Roman in an attempt to snap his neck and be done with the pesky former Gali commando. His menacing grip of Roman's neck was released as a shot from Adam's pistol embedded into his shoulder, causing Lexion to snarl his razor teeth for a moment. Eventually, like an agitated bear, Lexion cast a stare in Adam's direction.

That is how his life would end. Roman thrust his combat steel into the face of Lexion, plunking the thick steel through both flesh and bone. Finding a home in its brain. Following the stab with a swift elbow that broke the blade from its handle and watching Lexion fell to the ground. Blood continued to spill from the edges of the eternally lodged instrument.

Shocked at the death of one of his best and feeling the sudden sense of mortality, Anwick quickly began to exit at the rear of the bar as the room flooded with soldiers armed to the hilt. Roman had reached the point of no return as rage flowed through his veins.

He let go of an unrelenting assault with his hands, grabbing the first soldier by the neck and using his free hand to pummel the man with the bottom of his fist. He then grabbed a second soldier with a choke hold that eerily resembled the hold the hunters had placed on him only moments before. He quickly snapped the man's neck in several places; dropping his lifeless body to the ground.

He had proven himself to be a killer, and a damn good one at that. But even someone of his life ending skill was outnumbered by at least a dozen more armed men.

Adam had made his way to his feet and nearly reached Roman when they both realized the circumstances and were ready to accept defeat. As both men began to put their hands into the sky, Roman heard an unfamiliar sound. A sound that Adam knew all too well. The deep, throaty sound of the mauler.

It was a name the crew had decided on for the largest flash shotgun any of them had ever seen. A relic from the first Glimmerian war. Kato stood in the doorway and held the mauler, which gained its technical name not from a flash of light, but the flash drum under the barrel which held thirty rounds and required only an instant to reload.

The room began to thin out quickly. Every burst that fired from the chamber of the massive gun seemed to add a larger variety of body parts to the wall. Kato had barely used half of the drum's capacity when the room was clear, other than a few enduring cries of mercy and a slight mist throughout the room, which was a fine mixture of blood and organs. Adam and Roman helped one another out of the Dusk Tavern as Kato walked behind them. He kept the mauler perfectly positioned to slay anything with a heartbeat that followed the crew outside.

"Damn I love that gun." Dalton said from the cozy confines of the Gunship.

It was parked in the middle of the street and attracting a lot of local attention. But he didn't care. He'd just kicked the shit out of some vampires.

"Get us the hell out of here!" Adam said in a weak voice as they passed Kelly on their way up the ramp.

The roar of the Gunship's engines combined with what seemed like an endless cloud of wet dirt as the vessel began to lift-off.

Several soldiers accompanied Anwick to the front of the establishment, firing streams of metal piercing shots into the direction of the ship. Moments later, following a loud burst of air meeting extreme motion, the ship was gone. The soldiers began to check the dead and wounded which lay throughout the shot-up club as Anwick stood there for several minutes by himself. His eyes remained locked onto the sky.

-

All clear." Dalton said. Making his way up to the bridge.

"We need to talk." Adam said to the woman as she continued to harbor the boy they had saved not even an hour ago from the clutches of the closest thing to the devil that he had ever known. She nodded and began to stand up, her long champagne colored hair giving the shimmering illusion of velvet perfection as she made her way toward the Captain and the door of the ship's bridge.

"Hey big man. First time in space?" Roman asked as he took a seat beside the boy, who was obviously afraid of the situation he had been cast into.

"Yes. Yes sir." the boy answered with much reserve.

"Try to relax," Roman assured. "I remember the first time I made a trip out into the black. I wasn't much older than you...and I was terrified. The thing I figured out is that once I calmed down, it's kind of fun." he grinned.

"My name's Troy."

He was still fearful of the trip, but the young boy did what he could to appear brave. And Roman respected that kind of strength.

Slowly, Roman led the boy away. Doing what he could to calm him, while introducing him to a ship and its crew when he himself knew very little about it.

"What happened back there?" Adam asked.

"They were going to kill us. You saw that." she replied.

"Yes but why," he insisted. "The hunters could have delivered you to pretty much any rock in this star system themselves. They could have killed you and then delivered you, piece by piece, for that matter. My crew just put their lives on the line and now we're marked for sure. Lady, the hunters aren't a group to be crossed. If I'm going to take that chance, I'd at least like to know why?"

The woman began to cry. Watching tears swell into her eyes killed his soul for a moment, but he had to know. No one crossed the hunters and came out of it alive – not even the most notorious smuggler of the Skyla System.

"My name is Sarah Blaine," she toughened up a bit. Fighting her tears. "My father is the military commander for the Colonial Army."

"The Colonial Army is a thing of the past."

"No," Sarah began. "That's where you're wrong. After the defeat of the First Glimmerian War, our cause was reduced to only a handful of people. But those people just happened to be pretty powerful. Politicians, military advisers. With the backing of several wealthy supporters, our army began to rebuild from the ground up. We're nearly ready to launch our second attempt at power and I suppose the Legion found out. I dunno...but I was on a small transport headed from Tinstine to Glimmeria. My transport was intercepted and my security team was killed...right in front of me."

"And how do the hunters play into all of this?"

"This time around it's going to be big. This will be a war unlike anything the Skyla System has ever seen before. The hunters are backing the Legion, just as expected. All of them. We intercepted a transmission from their queen."

Adam was stunned. He sat down close to where he'd been standing, resting on a large steel crate that was sealed up tight.

"And the boy?"

"All I know is that his name is Troy and he's Benzan. I figure that I was to be held for ransom against my father as a bargaining chip. Troy was to be killed and sent back to his Benzan moon as a warning."

"Lady-"

"Sarah." she corrected.

"Sarah. I hate political messes. And now you're telling me that I'm carrying a fleet admiral's daughter and worse, I've crossed the vampires and stolen a Benzan kid to boot? My crew will be dead within the next day or two for sure."

"Relax, captain," she began. Smiling as best she could. "The boy is alive because of you. I am alive because of your heroic deeds."

"Good. Carve that in my headstone, will 'ya? Because I'm a walking dead man."

"Captain," she said, easing to him. "You picked the right side this time. We have enough firepower-"

"I can't get you to your father right now," Adam admitted. "The hunters will have their warriors out combing the system and worse, if they're allied with the Legion, every redcoat from here to Rileytown will be looking for this ship. I'll get you to your father in due time, but right now I have to think about the safety of my crew."

"I understand."

Pressing a com box near mounted to the wall close by, Adam thought his words over for a moment. Breathing deep.

"Kelly, I need you to find the quickest way to uncharted space and get us there. No stops in between."

"Yes, sir. Anything I should know about?"

"We'll go over the situation shortly."

Turning to Sarah, Adam's face of stone eased up a little.

"This ship probably isn't much compared to what you're used to. But if it means anything, the hunters called me for a reason. I plan on giving their bounty hunters one hell of a run. In the meantime, you're free to make yourself at home. Anything on this ship is yours. That's an order." he smiled just a bit.

"Captain-"

"Adam," he replied. "Adam Michaels."

"Adam," she began. Speaking from the heart. "Thank you. If it would have been anyone else; anyone less brave, the boy and I would be dead right now. You're a very good man and I won't soon forget it."

Adam nodded.

"Yea, well see to it that you don't go spreading that around. Half of my legend is built up by my ability to be a bad guy."

With a big smile, he turned to begin making his way upstairs.

Sarah watched him for several moments. He reminded her of someone else, but she couldn't quite place it at first. Finally, her mind and heart synced up.

Her father.

-

"I checked three times, captain," Kato said. "I couldn't find anything."

"The ship's engine room is sending wireless distress data to me. There has to be an issue. My programming tells me we should-"

"That's because you're a damn android," Kato blasted. All while laying beneath the flight console on the bridge of the ship. Moments later, he pulled himself from beneath the console – grease clung to his hair in true mechanic fashion. Nodding with disapproval. "I'm telling you. I've checked every wire down there more than once...nothing's loose. If something was wrong, I would have found it by now. Maybe you've got something loose."

"If I had something loose, my programming would tell me." Luck boasted.

"Unless it was something loose in your programming," Kato said. "You see this, Adam? This is what I have to work with!"

"Nothing Kelly?" Adam asked with concern.

"No sir," she replied. "Everything on the console checks out just fine. We have cabin pressure, fuel – everything looks like it should."

"OK. Well Kato, just keep an eye on it."

"But sir-" Luck began.

"I don't want to hear it, Luck," Adam shrugged. "What do you want me to do? Send a man out in a suit to check the exterior of our ship in the middle of uncharted space?"

"Could be bird shit." Dalton suggested. Entering the bridge.

His comment drew blank stares, even from the artificial intelligence.

"Well it could be."

"How's everyone settling in?" Adam asked.

"The girl's sleeping right now," Dalton said. "I just checked in on her. Roman's working with the boy on using a blade."

"Using a blade?" Adam asked loudly.

"Yea," Dalton said. "I couldn't believe it either. Who the fuck needs a blade when we have dozens of guns on this ship?"

"He shouldn't be handling a blade."

"Why not?" Dalton asked. "He's been handling my knocker pistols for the last hour or so, give or take."

"What?" Adam asked.

"They weren't loaded!"

"What a shit show." Kato said.

"You stay out of this you greasy-haired scarecrow!"

Dalton liked Kato more days than not, but he wasn't about to start taking lip from a mechanic. Not now...not ever.

"I better go down there and make sure he's OK," Adam said. "Kato – keep an eye on the situation for me."

"He's fine," Dalton defended. "What situation?"

"The bird shit situation, you half-shaven baboon." Kato replied.

"You son of-"

Quickly, Adam intervened. Ushering Dalton from the bridge.

"Kato has a lot on his plate right now."

"I hope he's hungry then," Dalton lashed out. "Because I'm about to add a few bags of knuckles and a side order of my size ten up his ass!"

Adam gave a look of shame.

"Boot! My boot!" Dalton pleaded. "Always trying to twist somebody's words!"

Part Two

Adam motioned for Roman.

Dalton took over for Roman, showing Troy how hold a blade. Showing him the incorrect way, of course. Who needed a blade in a world of guns?

"We're gonna be sitting out here in uncharted space for a spell. I don't want to drift too far away, seeing as how I'd like to eventually return to the Skyla System. But the hunters are no doubt combing the system for us right now. As is the Legion. What's the story with the boy? Is he OK?"

"I feel bad for him," Roman began. "The kid lost his family and the vampires planned to kill him too, I suppose. The only reason he's alive right is because they planned to make a statement with him."

Adam felt great sorrow for Troy. He also knew what it was like to be on his own at such a young age, though his came under different circumstances. Either way, Troy would be forced to grow up faster than he should have needed to.

"Just keep him as busy as you can," Adam replied. "Keep him under your wing. I have no doubt he'll be safe there," before leaving, he stared at Roman for a moment. "And maybe you want to tell me about your history with the hunters sometime."

"Doubt it. That's part of the agreement," Roman replied. "But what's to talk about? The bastards were going to kill an innocent woman and child. In my book, that's enough to put an end to their sorry asses."

Adam certainly didn't disagree. He just wanted to know how Roman, a normal man, had stood up to much stronger adversaries. And why their queen wanted his head. He also thought about the way Roman had fought like he'd been trained by vampires. But that conversation would happen eventually.

"A deal's a deal." Adam replied.

He had bigger concerns at the moment. Some of the Skyla System's most dangerous people wanted him dead and his two mechanics couldn't decide if the ship was worthy of space travel or preparing to fall out of the sky.

Just another Tuesday aboard the Gunship.

-

Usually during deep space travel, Adam would sleep very little. He preferred to sit in his thinking spot and look across the stars. It had become one of the few times that he felt both safe and free.

This trip was different.

Adam slept in his clothes, hanging from his sleeping rack with a hand completely touching the ice cold floor. He didn't care. He was spent. Exhaustion had completely taken him over and his mind may have been cluttered, but his body had had enough. He'd been beaten and nearly killed by vampires, and that was after the Legion had tried to arrest him. Granted, he'd probably committed the crime. But jail was no place to be.

Suddenly, he opened his eyes.

Where was all of the noise?

He'd taken on a few more people and even before doing so, the ship had always stayed loud. Dalton cleaned guns, usually firing them in the process. He was also known for raising hell during his drunken stupors. Kato enjoyed slamming his tools around. Adam had often wondered if Kato did it just to piss him off. Yet he heard no tools.

There was no synthetic pitter-patter of feet, which usually gave away Luck's position on the ship. What he brought in intelligence, Luck sorely lacked in the ability to move about the ship quietly. Kelly enjoyed her coffee. Often times, Adam would lay in his bunk and smell the intoxicating aroma of fresh coffee in mid-brew. But his nostrils caught whiffs of nothing by air that had been pushed in by the purification system.

Where in the hell was his crew?

After realizing that the ship's thrusters weren't burning either, Adam sat straight up in his rack and eased his hand over. Slowly, he grabbed hold of his trusty revolver. Then, using his free hand, Adam rubbed the sleep from his eyes and stood to his feet.

The flooring of his bunk room was cold. So cold that the skin of his feet momentarily stuck to the floor – ripping away with each step. If only he'd worn his socks to bed! He took a moment and rushed his wool socks on. They fit backwards as he pulled them up, but that would have to wait.

Holding his revolver at the ready, Adam peeked outside of his bunk's door and down the long and narrow hallway which led back into the belly of the ship.

Nothing.

The hunters had found them. It was the only explanation. Somehow, they'd tracked the Gunship down and began taking prisoners. Missing Adam's bunk altogether. But how? He knew the vampires well enough to know that they weren't that sloppy.

With a bit of dread in the pit of his stomach, Adam began taking small steps down the hallways. Dreading whatever sight he might find.

Finally, as he reached the end of the hallway, Adam prepared to look fate in the eyes. But instead, he was hit with the smell of something familiar. Cigar smoke.

"I'll raise your ass by two credits." Dalton boasted.

The crew had found themselves sitting on steel crates in a circle, using a very large crate as a playing table. Everyone was here. And from the looks of it, Kato was winning. Adam also suspected that one of the stolen bottles of black bourbon had partaken in. Especially by Dalton, whose anorexic pile of chips was overshadowed by four shot glasses.

"You're playing without me?" Adam grinned.

"Hell, you've been asleep nearly two days solid." Dalton replied.

What?

Sure enough, Adam glanced to this thick metal watch and confirmed it. He'd officially been asleep for 46 hours.

"We're wading through uncharted space, captain," Kelly began. "I didn't want to wake you. I figured it would be best if we cut the engines to conserve fuel. With no heat signatures, someone would have to accidentally run into our ship with their ship in order to find us."

"Good thinking." Adam nodded.

She'd done exactly what he would have asked her to do. Kelly was valuable in that way. She may have been young, but her maturity as a pilot far exceeded most of the other pilots he knew. She was always thinking two steps ahead.

"Captain, you can have my seat," Luck said. Standing up quickly. "I should go and run some more schematics on the ship. Just in case."

"It's been two fucking days already," Dalton barked. "Let it go."

"He's right," Adam replied. "Just make sure we're OK."

"Full spread." Kato said. Grinning as he began taking his winnings.

"You cocksucker." Dalton replied.

"Dalton." Adam warned. He'd didn't want Troy exposed to anything more than he already had been. Especially Dalton's sharp tongue.

You cocksucker. Dalton lipped without speaking.

But like a gold-digging Grinch on Christmas Eve, Kato smiled. Pulling his winnings close and stacking them up accordingly.

Normally, Adam would have taunted Kato for being a paper champion, seeing as how he'd been asleep. Adam was a card player and then some. But how could he concentrate with a gorgeous woman sitting less than two feet away?

He threw a quick glance into her direction and swore that she did the same right after. Then, after several moments and a rather shitty hand of cards, Adam mustered up the courage to look at her for a moment. And surely enough, he'd been caught. Sarah returned the look. He swore deep down that there was intent behind her stare.

Or was he just a fool to think it?

Glancing at her once more, Sarah smiled.

There was definitely something behind it.

He'd met beautiful women before, but no one like Sarah. Most of the pretty women he came across charged by the hour and had been worked over by every smuggler with decent sized pockets. This was an admiral's daughter. This was a woman who'd grown accustomed to living aboard large ships of magnificent design. She was important and certainly wealthy, but she was also beautiful.

So beautiful!

Maybe he was reading too much into her smile. Perhaps she smiled out of obligation. She was a passenger on his ship and under his protection. But Adam didn't care. The heart wants what the heart wants. Even young men who grow up in the poorest of circumstances and can be viewed as a complete bust from a career standpoint have feelings.

And now his feelings longed for Sarah.

"I think Troy's got the hang of the game," Adam smiled, directing it at Sarah. "Just keep your crest card at all times. Never let anyone know you have that card. Learn to bluff, that's the key. I'm going to go check in on Luck for a moment-"

Suddenly there was a tremendous rumble coming from beneath the ship. Stacks of smaller crates fell from the shelves and Dalton, who'd already a few shots too many, sprang to his feet and quickly fell onto his ass.

As the lighting began to flicker, Adam gained his footing.

"Stay with Troy," he said. Placing his hand onto Sarah's for a moment. "Dalton, stay with them."

He began shuffling up the metal steps nearby. The lights went out once more, leading to a few stray curse words from the smuggler's lips.

"Dalton," Adam yelled. Never stopping his run. "Language."

Dalton answered with a quiet middle finger.

"What the hell is going on?" Adam asked.

Rushing onto the small bridge area, Luck was looking the ship's vitals over with a great deal of caution.

"My guess is that we took some gunfire back in Tameca City. Must have just clipped us, but in just the wrong place."

"Can we fix it?"

"Eventually, yes," Luck said with zero emotion. "But not while the ship is in flight. We're going to have to bring it down somewhere and it needs to be soon. We're losing our electrical systems, life support systems and auxiliary.

"Bring it down?" Adam argued. "We can't bring it down. We're in uncharted space and have no idea what's on any of the planets around us."

"Either way, the ship is going down," the android replied. "Either we bring it down where we choose or a planet's gravitational field will bring us down eventually. Of course, we'll likely all be dead by then without the oxygen we need."

Adam looked at him with horror.

"Well, that you need," Luck corrected. "I don't require oxygen. I would likely just be taken offline in the fiery crash."

"Comforting," Adam blasted. "You're all heart, you know that?"

Quickly the bridge began to fill up with the rest of the crew.

"Captain?" Kelly asked.

"Are we going to be OK?" the young boy added.

"We're going to be landing under very serious conditions," Adam didn't sugarcoat it. "Roman, you stay with Sarah and Troy. Get them to the round room as soon as you can. Dalton, you and Kato grab whatever gear you think we might need for a ground stay and then you get your asses to the round room."

"Captain...this is bad." Kelly confirmed.

She'd had a moment to look the ship's dying vitals over.

"Kelly, you go with them. Get yourself strapped in extra tight."

"Adam," Sarah began. "And you?"

"I need to stay here and make sure that the ship is plotted to land on a habitable planet. We need things like oxygen and ideal temperature."

"Adam, you could die if you stay." she warned.

He stood close to her as the room thinned out. Staring at her dream-filled eyes as though he were hypnotized.

"I have to make sure that you and the boy are safe," he began. "When this is all over and you're back where you belong, I'm sure that I'll be nothing more than an afterthought to you. You're the equivalent of a princess and I'm just a rusty old hound dog. But right now, my job is important. I need to make sure-"

"You're so wrong about that."

Sarah leaned in and kissed him with intention. Moments later, as she did what she could to hide her tears, Sarah led the boy away from the bridge.

"Wow, captain." Kelly said with a grin.

It was a wide grin, too. But it was outdone a hundred times over as Adam stood there like a grinning idiot.

"Kelly...get your ass to the round room."

-

The crew, minus Adam and Luck, had made their way to the round room.

Dalton was the last to enter and did so while dragging a steel crate of goodies as though he were saving a helpless child.

"Here," Roman said. Pulling the thick nylon straps for a moment, he made sure that Sarah and Troy were snugged in tight. Finally taking a spot beside Troy. "Don't worry about this one, kid. We'll get through it."

He honestly didn't know.

Roman was certainly a hardened soldier and he'd stood toe-to-toe with some of the baddest warriors the Skyla System had ever known. But crash landing on a planet that no one had ever visited before? That was a new one on him.

"What do you got?" Kato asked.

Kelly strapped herself down while Dalton leaned over his crates of goodies. Inspecting every inch.

"Rock whiskey, two cases of Glimmerian cigars, some titty magazines, my Branton glass pipe collection, three pistols, a bottle of black bourbon, a shot glass from the first war and a few pictures. Oh, and my brown shag rug."

"Three pistols?" Kelly asked. "A little much?"

"No." Dalton replied.

Turning to begin fastening the lid of his crate, the man exposed the back of his pants, which held two knocker pistols and a sawed off shotgun. Each of them were tucked beneath his waistline and barely hanging as they'd been tucked in with panic. A military-grade rifle also hung from his side on a heavy strap. This, along with a leg length machete strapped to one hip and a handful of smaller knives.

Suddenly, the ship jerked forward. Not only did it throw Dalton across the round room, causing him to smash his face against the thick padding of the upright that he should have been leaning against and strapped to, but his crate began tumbling, too. It sounded like a very poor high school band trying to get things right. Glass shattered and steel clanged around inside of the crate like shrapnel.

"Shit." he muttered grabbing his head.

"Are you OK?" Sarah asked.

Blood leaked from a cut above his right eye.

"Am I OK?" he asked. His voice was both desperate and direct. "No! All of my hooch is gone...dripping out into the cargo bay like a hobo parade!"

A stream of rather cheap booze gushed out of the crate and into the main storage area of the ship. A second thrust of the ship sent the crate flying out of the round room. It nearly sent Dalton, too. Luckily, he had the wherewithal to grab hold of a nylon strap. He pulled himself against the padded emergency upright and began buckling himself down with timid hands. Like a child's first fishing pole.

"Adam." Kelly said with a grin.

The captain had made his way to the round room too.

"Dalton, is that your crate of-" he began.

Dalton shot a look back that would have made a flock of orphans cry.

"Oh." Adam muttered, walking to Sarah.

"In case we don't make it."

He leaned in and kissed the admiral's daughter with every ounce of chivalry inside his body, which shook with nerves.

"What do you say, Kelly?" Dalton asked.

She looked at the grimy smuggler.

As if.

"Don't worry kid, we'll make it." Roman assured.

Kato remained the quietest. While the rest of the crew kissed or balked at the opportunity of a kiss, Kato remained focused on kissing his own ass goodbye. This was how soldiers were supposed to go – not mechanics!

"I set our bearings and Luck is going to bring us down." Adam said.

"Hard?" Roman asked.

Adam shot him a look.

"I'm guessing harder than a platoon of Colonial soldiers on leave," Dalton said. Turning to his right. "What do you say, Kelly?"

Her nether regions cringed at the thought.

Can't blame a guy for crying.

Soon after, the ship's engines fired. Followed by thrusters.

The Gunship jerked wildly and right outside the round room they could hear crates tumbling, along with random gunfire.

"The pistols were loaded?" Kato asked.

"I didn't have much time!" Dalton bitched.

"What a shit show."

Every so often, flashes of a crate passed the door of the round room. Gravity pulled at the crew with everything it had. The crate continued to fire every ten seconds or so, like a Russian roulette cube that reeked of whiskey.

"Wouldn't be happening if you owned blades instead." Roman said.

"I do own blades." Dalton replied.

After the words left his lips, the Gunship dipped something fierce. The gravitational pull of an uncharted planet had grabbed hold of them and tugged with all of its might. The landing – or crash, depending on their luck, would happen soon.

Sarah's fingers found Adam's as he lay upright beside her. Their hands interlocked. And even as steel began to bend and people screamed around him in fear, the warmth of her hand was the closest to heaven that he'd ever been.

-

Wake up.

Adam's head throbbed uncontrollably. It seemed like a dream – nothing more. Mustering up every ounce of courage he had, Adam lifted himself up and away from the padded upright position. Flinching with pain, he reached to his sternum and began unclasping himself, one thick strap at a time.

"Is everyone OK?" he shouted loud. "Talk to me."

"Hell no," Dalton replied first. "You saw what happened. All of my drink is gone! It's a burning waste, that's what it is!"

Adam grinning a little, hearing the rest of the crew laugh following the joke. They were shaken, no doubt. But somehow they had managed to survive.

"I need to check on Luck," Adam began. "Dalton...Roman...one of you guys lead us out and have a look around. Once it's clear, we need to get everyone off of this rig and find a place to rest. Something a little more comfortable than nylon straps and steel."

"Good. I feel like I'm back in the slam." Kato suggested.

It made sense. More often than not, prison guards had their hands full with Kato, if Adam's memory served him right. He could recall more than one time where an entire tactical team had been called in to subdue the skinny hellion. Rolling him out on a secured stretcher that eerily resembled the uprights in the round room.

"See if you can look the ship over and get an assessment."

Kato looked to Adam with truth.

"I can see daylight peeking through the main cargo bay of the ship and the doors aren't open yet," he replied. "My assessment is – it ain't good."

"Just do it."

Adam stood on his own, having unharnessed himself. His legs rocked like they were made of weak rubber, but otherwise he was fine.

"Sarah?"

"We're fine." she smiled.

Though he continued to mumble curse words, Dalton hoisted his rifle to the ready. Prepping himself to walk outside and have a look around. Pausing for a moment to see his crate of goodies smashed to pieces.

Fucking figures.

The first thing that hit his brow was extreme sunlight. It wasn't hot, not as hot as it should have been, given the hard sunlight. It felt more like an early fall morning. Wind blew steadily and it was cool, not cold. The ship had landed, or crashed – depending on a person's point of view, in a vast field of thick grass and scattered rocks. All around them, dense jungle stood ready to break their will.

But not today.

Dalton leaned against the massive steel frame of the ship's exterior and pulled a cigar to his lips. He didn't drop his rifle completely, but pointed its barrel down to the ground long enough to flick his windproof lighter to life.

"I've seen worse." he yelled.

"Does that mean all-clear?" Kelly asked.

"If it wasn't, you'd hear this rifle of mine barking out."

Dalton leaned with confidence, puffing like the little engine that could.

"So that's a yes?" Kato asked.

For a moment, Dalton turned and gave the door of the Gunship one hell of a look. He considered boarding once more for the sole purpose of dragging Kato's sorry ass outside and throwing a beating at him that he wouldn't soon forget. It had been coming for quite some time. Dalton had his own way of thinking and doing. Kato had his own way of taking that simple set of rules and twisting them all to shit.

"Come on out," Dalton said. Drawing a deep cloud of stress-relieving smoke. "But leave that ignorance of yours at the door."

One by one, the crew exited the ship and held a hand over their brow. The bright light was the direct opposite of what they'd grown accustomed to inside of the ship.

Sarah found a decent-sized rock and sat Troy down. Standing beside him in a protective manner. Soon after, Adam exited the ship.

"Luck?" Kelly asked.

Adam shook his head.

"That wise talking son of a bitch went out like a hero," Dalton said. Taking a final puff and flicking his cigar into the grass nearby. Normally he would have enjoyed the rest of it, but there were more important tasks ahead. "I'll give him that."

"Dalton...he's dead!" Kelly replied.

"He was never alive!" he defended.

"Now what?" Roman asked.

"Good question." Adam replied.

He honestly didn't know. The crash landing had come up spur of the moment. Pulled out of their asses like some unfortunate magic rabbit. They'd defied the odds by simply surviving the crash. Now it was time for a plan.

"I'll bring Luck out and put him to rest." Adam said.

"You mean bury his ass?" Dalton asked.

Luck was synthetic skin, plastic and steel. It didn't seem like a good combination when it came to the back-breaking job of digging through cold soil.

"It's the least I can do, seeing as how he saved our lives," Adam nodded. "You and Roman gear up heavy and scout the area around us. Your idea of heavy works this time around. Kato can stay here with me and guard Sarah, Troy and the ship...what's left of it."

Both men had loaded themselves down on the heavy side. In fact, Dalton had started by carrying the mauler but soon found that it weighed more than he did. After factoring in the potential of steep hills and long marches, he said to hell with it. Instead, he'd slapped both of his knocker pistols in the back waistline of his britches. Hoisting his sawed-off shotgun across one of his shoulders.

Roman placed a set of tactical binoculars around his neck. He then checked the blade of his tactical knife and slid it into the sheath strapped to his leg. Checking a small combat pistol for a full clip, he placed it beneath his own waistline. Covering it with his shirt.

"He said go heavy." Dalton reminded.

"Whenever you see me carrying a pistol, I am going heavy."

"I can piss harder than that thing can shoot."

Roman glanced down and patted his blade for a moment.

Dalton nodded. Flicking another cigar to life, he began puffing away as though bourbon flavored tobacco was his life support.

"One after another, eh?" Roman asked.

"Is that a crime or something?"

"May want to conserve what you have. Just in case we're here a while."

"I've got nineteen cases of 'em under my bunk," Dalton boasted. Smoking the massive brown cigar like a champion. "Fuck it."

And with that exchange they began walking through nearly waist high grass. Paying close attention to the forest in front of them.

-

"I'm sorry for your friend." Sarah said.

Making her way over to Adam, she handed him a bottle of water. Taking a moment to sit down beside him as he wiped sweat from his brow. Either way, the deed was done. Luck had been officially committed to the ground.

"Who am I fooling...he was an android," Adam admitted. "The truth is I won him playing cards. Best hand of my life. Since then, this crew has seen a lot of good luck – hence the name. I just can't shake the feeling that with Luck dying, ours may have run out, too."

"I see the question in your eyes, but Adam I assure you...you're doing the right thing." Sarah said.

"Am I?" he wasn't so sure. "Sarah, I'm sure your father is incredibly powerful and he's surrounded by the newly raised Colonial Army. But I was a part of the original army and no, offense, but we had our asses handed to us. At no point and time do I ever remember having any hope of winning the war. Just a few politicians sitting back and sending a lot of good men in to die."

"It's a different time now."

"What's different?"

"Well, for starters," Sarah began. "We've developed a lot of new technology. Even the ship my father commands – it's larger and more battle-ready than anything the Legion has to offer. They've grown complacent and, quite frankly, they've gotten lazy. The Legion is so used to being in control that they can't imagine anyone standing up to them. A majority of their soldiers have less than a year under the belts, meanwhile we've been quietly building. Our soldiers remember. I believe last time around we fought because we were being forced to fight. Now we long for peace. Even with the hunters by their side, we match them in numbers and warships. Our leaders are smarter and our planets are well-defended."

"Well now, this is starting to sound like a plan." Adam grinned.

"I know what you must think of me," she began. "But I'm not going to forget about you – any of you. If you get me back to my father, I'm going to recommend that you be patched as an officer immediately-"

"Whoa now," Adam held up a hand. "I plan to do everything in my power to get you back safe. As for this war, well, I've already survived mine."

"You can't be serious?"

"I've got a different life now." Adam said.

"Smuggling black market goods for the scum of the universe and their lackeys?" Sarah asked. "No offense."

"None taken," he said with pride. "I may be nothing more than a captain of a small ship that takes on odd jobs as it can, with, I grant you, questionable legality. But my father once told me something that really stuck. The universe needs its generals and its sharecroppers. Without one, the other doesn't exist. He used to say that if a man's lot in life was sharecropping, he could either spend his entire life denying the fact that it was his destiny or he could perfect his craft and be the best damn sharecropper in the star system. Now I may only be a transporter of goods darling, but I'm the best there is."

"I see so much more in you." Sarah admitted.

"Well maybe you hit your head during the crash landing. Because I'm just a transporter, Sarah. And I'm OK with that. You know why?"

"Why?" she asked.

"Because if I would have been anything else – destiny wouldn't have led me to you."

Sarah didn't agree with his view on things, but he was too handsome to argue with. Plus, he seemed very set in his ways of thinking.

"Well," she began. "I'll be grateful for your rescue, no matter which path you choose to follow. But I'll say this-"

"Go on."

"Right now, throughout the entire Skyla System; all of its soldiers and warriors and the most decorated military men available, I trust only you to keep me safe. And that isn't likely to change anytime soon."

Adam glanced away for a moment. Deep in thought. Finally, he walked away.

-

"Anything yet?" Dalton asked.

The men had walked for just over an hour. Not only were they sore from the emergency landing, but Dalton's feet ached like he'd been kicking ass for a week solid. And his tongue thirsted for alcohol.

"Nothing." Roman replied, skimming the area around them with binoculars.

"Great."

Small droplets of rain began falling from the sky above. Increasing both their size and intensity fast. They both ran over to a large overhang of trees in order to block as much rain as they could. It didn't help much.

"Don't take this the wrong way," Dalton began. "But maybe you aren't looking hard enough. You know?"

How could he not take that the wrong way? Dalton was questioning his skills with a set of binoculars. Rather than argue the point, Roman tossed them over to the mouthy smuggler in order to watch him find nothing, too.

"Well don't get snappy about it."

Dalton pressed his eyes to the small set of binoculars and did his best to keep the rain from getting between his face and the rubber barrier of the lenses.

"Did you try using thermal?"

Thermal? Roman thought.

Dalton looked away from the binoculars for a moment.

"I'll take that as a no."

Flicking a switch, the images coming back to his eyes turned into swirls of red, yellow and orange. Toward the sky they became increasingly pale, even fading to blue as the air turned much cooler.

"I don't see anything." Dalton said.

"You don't say."

"Wait."

"Don't try to cover your ass-" Roman began.

"Wait." Dalton said once more. This time in an alarming whisper.

After fixing his eyes on a position for several moments, Dalton handed the small pair of binoculars over to Roman. Motioning with his hands.

"Something's out there." he whispered.

"If you're playing me-" Roman began.

But he saw it, too.

It only came back to him as reds and yellows moving about, but the most important detail was that it walked upright – like a humanoid. Two legs and two arms. Something was out there for sure. What it was remained a mystery.

-

It had taken them an hour to cover less than a hundred yards.

By design, of course. Most of the ground had been traveled while laying prone. Digging elbows into thick mud and sliding forward just a few inches at a time. Something Dalton wasn't so thrilled about.

This here's bullshit.

But they'd made their way to the mysterious figure and found not one, but two of them. They were husk.

"Husk?" Dalton whispered.

Roman nodded.

"When I was with the Gali forces, we encountered a few."

"They have a ship," Dalton said. "We need that ship."

It was a small skiff. Nothing that would get them back to civilization in one piece.

"That's just a drop ship," Roman identified. "It won't get us back. I doubt it would make it a single day out in the black, and it certainly wouldn't carry the kind of crew we have."

"Well fuck." Dalton replied.

"I'm guessing they're waiting for a pickup by a much larger ship."

"Then maybe we can hitch a ride-"

"No," Roman replied. "The husk aren't exactly a friendly race. They normally keep to themselves back on their home world and study combat."

"Then why are they out here?"

Roman motioned his head forward a bit.

One of the large, orc-like beasts held a massive combat rifle while the other husk ushered a group of humans along. They were blindfolded and bound with chains.

"Slave traders."

"Fuck that noise," Dalton grumbled. "We can put an end-"

"Dalton," Roman said. Cautioning his friend with one hand. "The husk are not to be taken lightly."

"I've seen what you can do with a blade and I've got plenty of guns."

"I've only lost two fights in my life," Roman admitted. His face turned into a marketplace of memories. "One to my brother and one to the husk that bested my brother."

Dalton looked on. Hanging from his every word.

"Two husk are a tall order," Roman said. "But if we backtrack and get help, they may be long gone when we get back."

"So what's our play?"

"I'm going to need a better pistol."

Dalton nodded with a grin. Easing his hand over, Dalton gave his friend one of the large knocker pistols.

-

"What's the report?" Adam asked.

Kato stopped for a moment; resting a large wrench onto a flat portion of the Gunship's exterior and wiping his face with a blackened hand.

"One of our thrusters is completely shot – I can't fix it. The other thruster isn't too far behind. Even if I somehow got it working, we'd die before we got into low orbit. We've got a lot of holes where there shouldn't be any. We'd vent out any oxygen long before we made it to safety. If that didn't kill us, exposure to space would."

"So that's it?" Adam asked. "We're dead in the water?"

"There is one thing-" Kato began.

"Let's hear it."

"The workable thruster is near the round room. With enough time, I may be able to relocate a lot of the exterior and slim the ship down. I could wrench off the good exterior and put it where we needed it – scrap the rest."

"And it would work?"

"Depends on your idea of work," Kato admitted. "We'd have controls, oxygen and just enough room to sit out asses down. But we wouldn't be able to carry enough fuel to make it back entirely. It'd be the equivalent of sitting in a rowboat out in the middle of the sea and hoping like hell that a friendly ship came passing by. If it did, we'd be rescued."

"If it didn't?"

"We'd starve to death."

Adam sat there for a moment. He was stunned and how could he not be? It had now become a matter of choosing between living the rest of their lives out on an uncharted planet or risking everything on some half-ass plan.

"How long would it take you to slim the ship down?"

"In an ideal world – a week. But with a set of hand tools...months. Maybe even years." Kato confessed.

"Years?"

"A lot sooner, if you'd quit asking questions and let me get back to work."

No mechanic liked being called out on his job, especially when he had virtually nothing to work with. It wasn't Kato's fault that their ship had gone awry. And now when everyone needed the mechanic, he didn't plan on being everyone's scape goat.

Adam nodded with apology.

"Do it."

As he spoke, gunshots rang off in the distance.

-

Dalton found himself laying on his back in the mud. The large husk pushed against his struggling hands with ease. It was hard for Dalton to fathom at first, but the beast had strength that was unlike anything he'd ever seen before.

Quickly, and with nothing but pure desperation, Dalton leaned forward and smashed his forehead into the husk's face. Then again. With the second clash of heads, the large warrior eased up and began reaching for his face. That gave Dalton just enough of an opening to bring a blade around and strike its large torso.

It yelled, dismounting him quickly. Dalton saw a one-on-one fight transpiring between Roman and the second husk. An even draw, for what he could tell. With timid fingers, Dalton grabbed for his knocker pistol. But the husk gripped his wrist tight. This time, the large green beast smashed its head into Dalton's face. Rendering him defenseless.

As it prepared for the kill, molten lead struck it in the back. The creature stood in rage, towering well above seven feet tall. Turning, it stared Roman down with nothing short of the intent to kill.

Just as Roman had done with the first husk, which now lay dead in a pool of its own blood. Roman had won his bout, but barely.

"Well come on, you son of a bitch." Roman mouthed.

He was in no condition to fight. His chest had been ripped open by razor claws and he bled solid. More blood trickled from his nose and one of his hands rested against his left side. Roman was sure that beneath the skin, broken ribs rattled around like jack rocks with each breath he took in.

He couldn't win this one alone.

Suddenly, Dalton jumped the large creature from behind. A choke hold, of all things. He planned to squeeze the life from husk lungs the hard way. Instead, he was grabbed by a large green hand and hurled away like a child. Dalton landed with a tough thud, sliding through several feet of mud. He started to get back up for the fight, collapsing instead.

The husk turned its attention back to Roman, who no longer was there. It turned quickly, yet saw nothing. Where had this pesky man grunt fled to?

With the sight of a dead husk nearby, the only smart move was to radio for help. One human lay on the ground, suffering something fierce. The other had run away. The surviving husk would radio for help and then execute the bound slaves. For no other reason than the fact that it was pissed off.

Instead, the husk was taken off guard by Roman, who'd blended with the slaves for a moment. Springing like a seasoned lion, the master of blades began slicing away at the big, confused warrior.

The husk could do nothing more than throw its hands up in defense. Yet Roman whittled at his arms, quickly gaining the sight of bone. Like a large bear shooing away a single bee, the husk threw its arms toward Roman.

It then fell to its death. Compliments of a shotgun blast.

"Couldn't let you kill both of them." Dalton said.

He quickly lay back down and eased the sawed off shotgun by his side. Dealing with a headache like nothing he'd ever known.

Just as fast, Roman slid down onto his ass and grimaced with pain – clinching his ribs extra tight.

-

"Dalton," Adam shouted. Hurrying into the clearing with a rifle in hand. Followed by the rest of the Gunship crew. "Roman."

"Here." Dalton replied.

"What the hell is going-" Adam began.

He saw a small group of strangers, mostly women and children, huddled together. Two large beasts lay on the ground as dead as fat momma jokes. Dalton and Roman both sat nearby, each with a smoldering cigar in their mouth.

"Ran into some slavers." Roman replied.

"Had to kill 'em," Dalton added. "I killed one."

"Husk, by the look of it." Adam said.

"You know what they are?" Dalton asked.

"Our unit fought a group of husk right after leaving the drop ship during the First Glimmerian War. So yea."

"We did?"

"You'd been drinking," Adam said. "So I don't want to burst your bubble, but yea. You killed a few husk that day, too."

"You hear that?" Dalton asked. Speaking to no one, while speaking to anyone who lent an ear. "I'm a bonafide husk killer." he grinned.

He was completely ignored, other than by one of the slave women who glanced his way and smiled wide. Either she was star blind or she ultimately felt pity for him. Which? That fact remains a mystery.

"It's a short-range skiff," Kato replied. "It's not meant for traveling from planet to planet." he added. Placing a hand to his chin.

"So we're dead in the water...again." Adam said with defeat.

"We need a new mechanic." Dalton suggested.

"Not so fast," Kato thought hard. "Just sit over there in your blanket of body odor and give me a moment here."

"What is it?" Adam asked.

"The good news is that I believe I can take the antenna from this skiff and bring it back to our crash site. I'm sure that I can boost the signal enough to reach Colonial ears."

"And the bad news?" Adam asked.

Sarah's face lit up with the mere notion of being back under Colonial protection.

"Well, the bad news is that I wouldn't be able to code the message. Everyone within nine grid frames would pick up our distress signal. Tattoo parlors, houses of ill repute, even elementary schools."

"Which means every bounty hunter combing the star system and the Legion, too. Is that right?" Adam asked.

"Yep," Kato said. "It would literally come down to a race to see who gets here first. And if they got here at the same time, well, you wouldn't want to be in the middle of it."

"Like I said. We need a new-" Dalton began.

"Why don't you drape those brown teeth of yours with your lips and shut the hell up!" Kato blasted.

"Do not fuck with a husk killer," Dalton warned. "Idiot."

"Get the antenna," Adam said. "And whatever else we can find that might be of any use." he added.

That was all of the convincing Dalton needed. Suddenly, the man's bruises eased up as though he was a walking specimen of miracles. Digging through the husk ship with hands of anticipation, he finally discovered a small metal flask.

Ginning wide, Dalton unscrewed its lid. Bringing his nose across its top for a moment, he shook his head with shame.

"Tamecan tequilla," he said. "Cheap bastards."

Nevertheless, he turned the flask up and began swigging. His cheeks caved in, then out again, like a newborn feasting on his mother's tit.

-

Dalton puffed away on a massive cigar, as did the only two men who'd been chained as slaves. Hell, they deserved a good smoke.

The crew had made it back to their ship and Kato had hit no snags in sending a message out. In fact, it had taken him less than an hour to bridge the two antennas together, due in part to his personal need to prove himself. Hell would freeze over before he was replaced as the Gunship's primary mechanic.

It was a date message only, which didn't give Sarah a chance to speak with her father. Now she sat there with the rest of the group, waiting with anticipation. Surely her father would come. He had to come.

"Got something!" Adam said, rushing back out of the Gunship.

They all looked to the sky and waited.

There was a loud popping sound, like a balloon that had been overfilled and burst. Seconds after, a ship appeared in the planet's clouds and began scanning the surface.

"What do we have?" Adam asked.

Dalton looked through the small set of binoculars and pressed the digital zoom button several times before confirming it.

"Fucking Legion."

Adam could feel the color rush away from his face. Sarah began to breathe with a lot less hope than she'd had only moments before.

"Scout ship, too," Dalton said. "Which means they brought some decent hardware with 'em. Probably in low orbit waiting on the scout ship to signal back."

"Fuck." Kato yelled. Kicking a metal box of tools across the ground.

"Now what?" Roman asked.

"Now we try to dig in and hold our ground until Sarah's father gets here."

"If he gets here." Kato growled.

"My father will come."

"Ease up, Kato," Kelly said. "It's a scout ship, captain. I just heard their com traffic going back up."

Adam closed his eyes for a moment. The shit was now officially stacked against them. Scout ships normally came from the bellies of Legion cruisers and they were notorious for housing thousands of troops. The group could dig in, but not against those odds. It wouldn't take the Legion very long to find them, either. Even in dense forest. Cruisers had the equipment to identify their heat signatures.

Suddenly, hundreds of pops let loose in the sky. Followed by explosions. All of it loud enough to shake the cigar from Dalton's lips.

"What the-"

Hoisting binoculars back to his eyes, Dalton skimmed the sky above.

"I'm seeing hundreds of Colonial marked ships and hundreds of Legion ships. Most of them air-to-air fighters. They're dogfighting the shit out of each other." Dalton said with pride.

For a moment he felt his Colonial past churning in his stomach and jolting through his veins. Of course, it may have been the tequila.

"My father." Sarah replied. Standing to her feet.

"Everyone get ready to move," Adam said. ""Kato, let them know where we are and then hope like hell the Colonials win out."

"Look!" one of the former slaves shouted, pointing to the sky.

At first it looked like a planet. But a massive ship, the largest Adam had ever seen, descended from orbit.

"A Colonial Star," Sarah said. "My father's Colonial Star, to be exact."

"No kidding." Adam replied with awe.

The massive ship fired streams of lead at the smaller Legion crafts, swatting them from the sky like flies. From its belly, a handful of smaller ships fell.

"Dropships." Sarah said.

"Get ready to move!" Adam replied.

He turned to look his old Gunship over for several moments. He'd always loved that damn ship. Now, under the worst of circumstances, it was being decommissioned. But that didn't stop him from paying homage to the ship was a long look of appreciation. Even as the Colonial dropships touched down, Adam looked his ship over with apology.

Something that Sarah noticed.

Something that Sarah respected.

Part Three

For nearly an hour, he'd watched the battle unfold.

Adam sat in the seat closest to the window of their dropship, watching as ship-to-ship fighters waged war on one another. They'd ultimately made it through the turbulent fighting and into orbit, at which time he could see several of the massive Colonial Star ships fighting nearly a dozen Legion cruisers.

War had begun.

"Adam?" Sarah asked.

She eased herself onto the empty dropship which had been docked inside of her father's Colonial Star for quite some time. He sat alone. Staring out of the small window and thinking about things deeply enough to consume him.

"Adam?"

"You know," he began. Never breaking his stare away from the window. "During the first war, I can remember looking out of the window of our dropship. It's been years, but I still think of it like it were yesterday. I was so scared. I can remember holding a battle rifle in my lap and praying hard. I didn't want to die. I was afraid to die."

Sarah listened as he turned away from the window – staring into her beautiful eyes for nearly a minute solid.

"When your father came for us and we started up into orbit, I wasn't afraid anymore. Is that wrong?"

"I don't think that it's wrong," she began. "Sometimes we feel different in battle-"

"Sarah, I didn't care about dying because I was with you," Adam replied. "And I would fight a million men just to get back to you."

"That's a pretty big number she smiled."

Finally, her witty reply was returned by a smile on Adam's part.

"Speaking of men...my father wants to meet with you."

Adam nodded. He knew it was coming.

"Do I need to have him meet you inside of this dropship," she hoped not. "Or can you follow me?"

"Ladies first." he replied. Standing to his feet.

Walking from the dropship, Adam could see his crew huddled nearby. Resting themselves and looking around with awe, as he did.

The ship was nothing short of a full-blown military base. Dozens of hangar decks were below them. Each housed too many smaller ships to count. Sparks flew in bunches throughout the hangar as mechanics welded damages to restoration. They looked like sparking fringes on top of an angry ocean.

Soldiers walked about, some of them in formations, and Sarah even traveled with an armed escort of two well-armed Colonial soldiers.

"He OK?" Roman asked.

"Who knows," Dalton replied. "He gets like this sometimes. All philosophical and shit. The man needs to get laid if you ask me."

"Well we didn't!" Kelly huffed.

"Well, he still needs to get laid." Dalton defended.

"What in the hell," Kato began. Standing to his feet. Suddenly, a large solider walked past. "Am I seeing this?"

It was nearly ten feet tall and walked upright, though it resembled a tank. Kato could see a face beneath the layers of armor and his best description would have been some kind of mech unit.

"We call 'em goliaths." a man shouted with a grin.

"Is it...a person?" Kato asked.

"Come here, I'll show."

Kato hesitated at first. Finally, he walked over to the man and put about twenty yards between himself and his crew.

"Long story short, the person inside is dead – technically."

"Dead?"

"Yea," the man began. "When a soldier passes on, for whatever reason, we can hook him to a stim unit. It has to be done within the first ten minutes, though. Otherwise the stim won't take. It's a machine that keeps the soldier's brain alive."

Kato stood there with a dumbfounded look on his face.

"Long story short, we can then place the soldier's body into goliath housing. Once powered, the soldier's mind stays alive until the goliath is ultimately destroyed. And as you might imagine, they're pretty damn hard to kill."

"So the person inside is dead, but his mind..."

"His mind operates nearly as well as ours do. Hence, the goliath follows orders and its one and only directive is to follow the orders of a superior officer. They recognize rank and know how to use weaponry. In essence, they're the super soldier.

"I've never seen one before." Kato admitted.

"Watch this."

The man stood to his feet for a moment and shouted. "Goliath!"

A few seconds later, the pounding of heavy metal feet banging against the steel deck of the ship grew louder.

"What is your directive?"

"Engineer Mobley, my directive is to protect hangar bay six until otherwise instructed."

"I order you to take a break." Mobley said.

"Negative. A lieutenant must give the directive."

"Well shit," he smiled. "Carry on, goliath."

The super soldier turned and went about its business of patrolling the hangar bay.

"Creeps me out," Kato said. "Seeing that dead face underneath the armor of a robot...or whatever it is."

"We have more right here," Mobley said. Sliding the top from a steel crate, Kato could see a dead body packed in ice. A silver box with a blinking green light was attached to the head of the body. "Pretty neat, huh?"

"I don't like the concept." Kato replied.

"Well. Trust me. The first time you're in a pickle with gunfire raining down on you and a goliath shows up to help – you'll change your tune accordingly."

Nodding for a moment, Kato turned and made his way back to the crew of the Gunship. Trying to forget what he'd seen.

"Any liquor in that case over there?" Dalton probed.

"Hardly." Kato replied.

"You sure?"

"Yea," Kato turned to him with the gravest of looks. "I'm sure."

-

"Adam Michaels," an older gentlemen said. Smiling wide behind a polished desk. It was the finest wood grain he'd ever seen. "I suppose I owe you thanks for rescuing my daughter."

Sarah stood outside of the door, along with a handful of Colonial soldiers. Two of them had been designed to escort her, while two more stood post on her father's door.

"You don't owe me anything, sir."

"Nevertheless," he began. "I'm having my finest mechanics work on a ship to replace yours. We had the frame of a Gunship on one of our lower decks. In a couple of days she should be ready to fly. I'm also arranging the transfer of a hundred thousand credits to your name. It's the least I can do."

Adam nodded.

"If you or your people need anything while you're aboard this ship, you let me know. OK, son?"

Adam was appreciative. He was. But he needed to speak his peace.

"Sir."

"Yes." Commander Blaine replied.

"I appreciate the Gunship. It's basically a worthless model to everyone except me, and it's a fine gesture. But you can keep the money."

"I don't understand?"

Adam breathed in deep for a moment. It would only go one of two ways.

"Sir, I'm in love with your daughter."

Little did he know that his confession brought an exuberant smile to her face as she stood outside of her father's office.

"Well son, that complicates things a bit."

"Not for me, sir," Adam testified. "For the first time in my life, things make perfect sense. Make no mistake, I would have done my very best to rescue anyone in the same situation. But your daughter has grown on my something fierce."

"That will be all, Adam." the commander replied.

"I don't understand?"

Resting a stack of papers on his desk for a moment, Commander Blaine walked from behind the desk – standing directly in front of Adam.

"You're not a solider, Adam."

"Sir, I served in-"

"I know your story, son," the commander replied. "I've got your military folder right here on my desk. I've also got your criminal jacket which is twice the size of your service file. My daughter needs to be with someone who can protect her. A soldier. Especially in a time of war...not a criminal."

"Everyone deserves a second chance."

"And I'm trying to give you one," the commander admitted. "Take the money."

"No sir," Adam replied. Trying to keep himself professional. "My integrity and my love for your daughter are worth more than any amount of money you have to offer."

Adam left the office quietly.

"I'm sorry-" Sarah began.

"I don't want to talk about it right now," Adam replied fast. "I just...I need to go and walk around by myself or something."

"He's wrong you know?"

"No Sarah, he's right," Adam confessed. "I'm just a regular guy with a rap sheet who doesn't deserve you. I'm just upset that I had somehow convinced myself I did."

-

He stood on one of the higher decks that overlooked the hangar bay.

You could jump, you know?

The thought crossed his mind for a moment. He knew it wasn't the way, though. Adam hadn't survived so many damn things only to hurl himself from the deck of a Colonial Star ship. He'd always imagined a large gunfight with plenty of opportunities for one-liners. The kind of fight that would make him a legend.

He loved her. He truly did. But without her father's blessing, Sarah couldn't afford to take a chance on him. Even if she offered, he didn't plan on letting her follow him down some path of self-destruction. She was here, surrounded by the finest army in the Skyla System. He was nothing more than a smuggler who ran with the wrong kind of folks.

Looking down below, he tried to imagine how many souls were aboard the ship. He saw countless heads moving around, doing their jobs well.

But then he saw it.

The color red began to trickle into the crowd of faces. At first, not much. But it was enough to alarm him. The Colonial Army never used the color red. Not ever. The mere color itself was an insult.

And then gunshots began to ring out.

"Son of a bitch." Adam said in a low voice. Hoisting his revolver.

We've been boarded.

-

He'd not walked all that long when trying to calm himself down, but he had somehow gotten turned around in the process. Gunshots rang out in the hundreds now, if not by the thousands. A slight fog of war rolled through from expended gunpowder and there were plenty of screams accompanying the fighting. Most of them were screams of death.

Adam wasn't sure how they'd been boarded. Most likely a boarding ship had landed during the fray against Legion cruisers. But as the gunfire increased, Adam thought that multiple ships must had gotten inside the Colonial Star somehow. It was the only explanation. There was now a sea of red and even flashed of brilliant black – the telling sign of hunters.

Passing through a horde of Colonial blue on once of the catwalks, Adam pushed his way through. Many of them were faces of defenseless mechanics and civilian engineers, covered in blood.

"Adam!" a familiar vice shouted loud.

Dalton fired a single gunshot into the air and most of the people scrambling for safety had the common sense to get low for a moment. That's when Adam finally spotted his own crew.

"Dalton!"

"Where in the hell have you been?"

"Is Sarah-"

"I thought she was with you?"

Oh God. Adam began to panic. Turning to look around, he tried his best to figure out where the woman he loved might be.

"Adam, we'll go together." Roman volunteered.

"No," Adam said. The ship was certainly being overrun by now. It had to be. He saw hundreds of Colonial soldiers rushing to the lower decks, including the mighty goliath units. Still the sea of red remained. "Kelly. Sarah's father has been piecing together a new Gunship as his way of saying thanks. You get the boy to our new ship and pray that it's ready to fly. It's down on level five. Kato, you get them there and do whatever it takes to get flying. The hangar for our ship isn't far from here, judging by the painted numbers on the walls."

"No, captain-"

"Yes Kelly," he said firmly. "I'm not going to stand around here and watch you or the boy die. Get to the Gunship, it's the only Gunship on this level. It shouldn't be that hard to find. Kato..."

"I'll get them there, Adam."

"We meet back on at our spot. You all know the place."

Any good smuggling crew had a meeting spot, just in case.

"Roman, I respect the fact that you're more than good with blades...but you need a shiny weapon that shoots. There are hundreds of people flinging lead down below." Adam said.

"Here brother." Dalton said. Handing his new friend a solid rifle.

Roman nodded. He appreciated the gesture and with Adam's advice; took the weapon. But he had a brother. At least part of one. The vampires had taken the rest.

"Let's go find my woman." Adam said.

-

"It looks bad." Dalton suggested.

And it was bad. The bodies of Colonial soldiers littered the hallway which led to the commander's office. Several more were standing at their posts, tasked with protecting the ship's executive staff. They stared down each hallway with nervousness. The entire corner of the floor had essentially becoming a beachhead.

Adam knew it deep down. The ship was lost to them.

"Won't hold out much longer." Roman said.

Adam turned and shook his head for a moment in agreement.

The flood of gunfire and yelling was growing increasingly louder and increasingly closer. The Colonials were losing.

"Sarah!" Adam yelled, sprinting to her.

Looking her over, he saw that she was unharmed. Still-

"Are you OK?"

"I'm fine," she replied. "Adam, I can't get my father to leave the ship. You hear that – same as I do. We're losing. If he would just get into a dropship and-"

"Let me talk to him."

Sarah nodded. Tears wailed in her eyes.

"Sir," Adam began. "Sarah's worried-"

"Adam...I'm sorry about earlier."

"It's OK. Sir, this is hardly the time or place."

"No Adam, this is the time and place. You and I both know that this ship is under siege and we aren't coming out of it alive. And I've no intentions of leaving my ship."

"Sir, you don't have to go down with the ship here. You don't have to die."

"Listen," the old man began. "I've already named a successor and seen to it that he's away safe. There are plenty of Colonial ships just like this one and plenty of soldiers to man them. They're all meeting on Glimmeria as we speak. There's a battle looming. The Legion intends to throw everything they have at us and we intend to hold Glimmeria at all costs. Son, throughout history, the greatest military leaders have always gone down with their ships."

"Sir, you could make it to Glimmeria. I can get you there safely."

"I know," he smiled. "But I also know that throughout the course of history, no one remembers men who fled. Only the dictators and those who were evil. Fleeing is usually their fate – it will not be mine."

"So you've made up your mind?"

"Yes," the old man replied. He'd made peace with it. "I've asked Sarah to leave and get herself to safety, but she will not leave my side. You said you love her..."

"I do."

"Then I need you to get her away from here. Sarah does not need to perish alongside me. Her destiny has yet to be written. You told me of your love for her in order to have my blessing, is that right?"

"Yes."

"Then prove your love my daughter by getting her the hell off of this ship. Deliver her to Glimmeria and you will have my blessing."

"But sir," Adam began. "She won't leave."

"You were right. Everyone deserves a second chance," the commander began. Explosions rocked throughout the ship as small arms fire could be heard only a few hallways over. "But sometimes life requires us to dip into our past in order to defend the helpless."

Adam understood.

"You get to Glimmeria and you give them this," Commander Blaine ordered. Handing over an envelope which contained a lieutenant's patch and an executive order signed by his own hand. "They will see to it that you and Sarah lead our people into days of freedom."

"But I'm not a soldier." Adam said.

"On the contrary, I believe you've always been a soldier," he replied. "Now go. Get my daughter to safety."

-

"Did you talk sense into him?" Sarah asked.

Adam paused for a moment. Looking into the innocence on her face, he tried to be as strong as he possibly could.

"Yea," Adam smiled. "But we need to get on his shuttle now. He needs to destroy some information and then he'll be with us."

She nodded. Rushing down the hallway and showing Adam the way. They ran behind her, as did two escort soldiers. It took only moments for them to get the airlock open and begin boarding the very small skiff. Though its interior was far more luxurious than anything Adam and his crew had seen before.

Dropships were jumping away from the massive space galleon like fleas from a tick-bathed dog. Shortly after springing their trap, Legion carriers had converged on the Colonial Star; knowing damn good and well they'd get very little fight in return. What the Legion boarding parties hadn't known was the fact that their own military would gladly sacrifice them for the cause.

Warheads began slamming into the thick armor of the Colonial Star. For a moment, lights flickered throughout.

"Shit," one of the escort soldiers shouted. "Door's jammed."

"It's probably because of the electrical surge. We need to open the door and try it again. This time it should seal." Sarah replied.

Reaching over, she pressed a large button and pulled down on a steel handle, in turn, opening the door once more. Counting to five, just like she'd always been told to do, Sarah prepared to reverse the process in order to seal the door tight this time.

"Sarah!" Roman shouted.

Legion soldiers began firing at the open door and with no other card to play, it was him or her. Roman dove to allow his own body to absorb the gunshot.

"Roman!" Adam yelled.

Sarah's hand shook as though they were electrified. Loud tings hit against the door of the escape skiff – gunfire continued hammering at the long after the door had sealed.

"Sarah, we need to go!"

"But my father..." Sarah began.

Adam looked at her in just the wrong way.

"He's not coming is he?"

Adam shook his head. Ashamed of his lie, though he knew it was for the best.

Sarah began to weep uncontrollably.

Moments later, Adam looked to one of the escort soldiers and gave him the OK. With that, a sequence of buttons were pressed and their ship was hurled out into the black of space, into a vicious fight for survival.

"You're gonna be fine, buddy." Dalton said.

Holding Roman on his lap as best he could, blood ran down from several holes and began staining his boots.

"You're a shitty liar." Roman said. Cringing in the process.

Coughing hard, his teeth were covered in blood.

Adam looked at Dalton and shook his head. It would soon be a done deal.

The Colonial Star burst into billions of fiery specks of wreckage. Only amplifying Sarah's grief as she began weeping heavily. Adam had lied to her and that would be dealt with in time. Right now, she simply fell into his arms and sobbed away.

-

The Gunship had seen the explosion from a distance. Kelly prayed that the rest of her friends had made it off in time. Kato had not been so lucky.

He'd been killed in the final hangar bay as they drew close to the Gunship. She'd never understand the irony of Kato falling at the feet of a goliath, who ultimately fought hard enough to allow her and the boy to escape into the open arms of black space.

Kato had been a good man. But the harsh truth of it was that sometimes good men die in the thick of war.

He had no family to notify. The Gunship crew had been his family. So Kelly would instead honor Kato by telling the young boy his story. She remembered how he used to lay beneath the console and bitch about the serious lack of air conditioning. She remembered his love for grilled meat and cold ale.

Kelly remembered everything.

-

"She was not aboard, sir."

Admiral Wyrick gritted his teeth a bit. Standing up from his desk, the high ranking Legion soldier waved with his hand, shooing him away like an insignificant fly. Finally, he glanced down to the two bodies sitting in front of him.

"You were supposed to capture the girl," the admiral said. "She knows things. Commander Blaine shared a lot of the Colonial secrets with his daughter."

"We overran the ship. What more could we have possibly done?"

Both of the bodies in front of him were ice cold and pale white with death. Vampires, and from the look of their armor they were executives of some sort.

"I wanted her alive!"

"She is alive," one of the hunters stood to his feet in threatening fashion. "We had a small group fire on them as they were leaving! Your men fired...not ours. Perhaps you should train your worthless grunts to listen to simple orders."

"My soldiers-"

"Your soldiers," the hunter said with strength. "And do not forget which race is the dominant race here."

"Are you threatening me?" Admiral Wyrick asked.

"It is merely an observation," the vampire walked his words back. "You say that you wanted the girl alive. Yet you sat back on your ship at the rear of the formation while we did the fighting. If you are going to cower in your seat behind your desk when the battle rages, do not tell me how it can be done better."

The admiral nodded. His secretary brought in a cup of steaming hot coffee. Taking a moment to sip from the deep red mug, he looked across his desk.

"I will tell you whatever in the hell I want to tell you," he said with bravery. "And if you don't like what I have to say, I will make a few phone calls. You and your family will be airlocked within the hour. I'll have the pictures hanging from your wall burned into oblivion and this time tomorrow, the Skyla System will have forgotten your existence. You see, I may be a human," he continued. "But there is a reason this human is in charge. I do not fail. And as you will learn, others do not fail me. Now, Anwick, you will leave this office and find Sarah Blaine. I don't care how you do it, but your worthless skin hangs in the balance. Do I make myself exceptionally clear?"

Neither the hunter strongman nor his muscle wanted to acknowledge the human leader who'd ultimately set the terms.

"Do I make myself clear?" he asked once more.

This time, the admiral's hand began skimming across the luxury of his desk. A com rested nearby, which was the only thing standing between the two vampires leaving the ship in crates following their own executions.

"Yes." Anwick finally lamented.

"Good," Admiral Wyrick replied with a smile. "Now let's get down to the business at hand, shall we?"

Anwick wanted nothing more than to reach across the desk and begin crushing the pesky human's throat with his tenacious grip. Instead, he nodded.

"The Colonial Army is heading to Glimmeria, just as we'd suspected. A scouting group confirmed that less than an hour ago. They'll dig in and wait for us. Ultimately, we'll rain down on them and the strongest will survive. Such is the way of the universe. But the sooner we locate Sarah Blaine and the information she has – the better our chances of success become. This war could very well hinge on your ability to find her."

"Understood." Anwick replied.

"You have all of the resources of the Legion at your disposal. Find her at all costs and spare no one in your path. Understood."

"Yes," Anwick replied. Standing to his feet. "It shall be done."

"It better be."

-

"What's our next move?" the large hunter asked as he followed Anwick through the hallways of the Legion ship.

Bright lights and steel walls – the same combination that could be found on any Legion warship, along with roving patrols of soldiers who were clad in a red and black leather, combat helmets and spoke through black face shields that concealed their faces.

"Sarah Blaine travels with Captain Adam Michaels. I was sure that he would deliver the girl as instructed. We'd no intentions of paying him, but he couldn't have possibly suspected that we'd kill him upon delivery. Still, the exchange went to shit."

"So we find Adam Michaels and we get the girl."

"Unfortunately it's a bit more complicated than that," Anwick said, glancing to his fellow hunter for a moment. "They also travel with a Gali who's of great interest to our queen. He's also very dangerous."

"Our queen is sending elites to aid us...how dangerous can this one man possibly-"

"One of the elites is his brother."

The large hunter looked to Anwick with a bit of surprise. Before he could ask, Anwick replied.

"Vladris."

"Oh."

"You see," Anwick began. "To kill this Gali fugitive could be successful in the eyes of our queen. But in the eyes of our greatest warrior – I've no idea how he'll view one of us killing his brother."

"Do we have a plan?"

Anwick nodded slowly. Rounding the corner of the narrow hallway as it opened up into a much larger hangar bay. Their ship was not far away and it rested under the guard of four heavily-armed soldiers. The ship was typical of hunter design. Jet black with bladed designs protruding from its top. Their ships very much resembled the shadow of a shark and the mere sight of them was enough to instill fear.

"I have Adam Michaels' military file on our ship," Anwick explained. "My plan is to find someone he trusts with his life. A former military friend, perhaps. We'll offer enough credits to sway loyalties. I need someone who thinks like Adam does. Someone who knows his routine well enough. Glimmeria is a large, populous planet. We can't just show up with a sketch of their faces. I need someone who can find them for us. Once that happens, I'm confident that our people can do the rest."

"And you are sure we can sway the loyalty of a friend?"

"This man is a smuggler," Anwick replied. "I believe any of his friends can be turned to our cause for the right price."

Even if the price involved limitless amounts of whiskey.

About the Author

John M. Davis is the bestselling author of Gunship, as well as Wicked, and the novelization of the motion picture REDD. Known throughout the writing industry as the Book Commander, John is a former writer for the Legends Football League and currently owns a minority share of the Canadian Football League's Saskatchewan Roughriders. He's a rabid fan of good coffee, pre-1950s fiction, retro arcade machines, and vinyl records. John also appears in and co-produces a Survivor spoof called Survivor Claytor Lake.

John currently resides in Virginia and is pursuing a graduate degree in history. Married for 19 years, John and his wife have two amazing kids (three if you count fur babies). His Book Commander Podcast is available (for free) and exposes the secrets of the publishing industry while also encouraging people from all walks of life.

#bookcommander

