Authors: John Davis
Tags: #voidhawk, #jason halstead, #in her name, #gunship, #gunship glimmeria firefly battlestar, #john davis, #michaael hicks
John M. Davis
Editing: Daniél
Lecoq
Copyright 2014 Serenity
Valley Publishing
Smashwords Edition,
License Notes
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P
rologue
In 2011, John
M. Davis released a brand new science fiction series. Out of
nowhere, Gunship hit the number two spot for Amazon Kindle in its
genre, and fans continued to demand more. Tying up the original
Gunship series with five books, some of the characters refused to
die. The Fleet is a standalone series, though it is also a
continuation of the Gunship series. Fans of the original work
should consider The Fleet as book six, while folks new to the Skyla
System can jump right in with The Fleet. Several more books are
scheduled in The Fleet series, as well as some prequel stories in
the works. If you enjoy the following story, please check out other
books in the series. Thousands of readers have demanded them, and,
because of their dedicated time and effort in the Skyla System,
there should be plenty available. Enjoy!
Water. Turns
out it's pretty damn important in the scheme of things. It's one of
those things that people take for granted until it's gone – or at
least in short supply.
The minds
behind this fleet were smart enough to see it coming. They
constructed a ship to supply us with as much as we need; the River
Rat. Problem is, the ship depends on planets thick with ice,
processing frozen slabs into purified water.
Rock after
rock; after shitin rock – none of them with a speck of ice to be
had. Plenty of Prelatin, the rock our fleet pulls fuel from, but we
need ice. Water.
We also
continue the search from Adam's son. A mission that's not too
popular with many ranking members of the fleet. Fuck 'em, I'm the
boss now and it's my call. Adam would be doing the same thing for
me.
We remain in
orbit and chained to our ships. Not literally, though I'd like to
chain a few of these bastards to one and leave 'em here. It's just
that the worlds below are overrun with the undead. At least until
we find a way to take our home back.
I've said it
before and I'll say it again. I hate the undead.
Colonial
Commander Dalton James
Chapter
1
*The Viscion*
Holding his
fist up firmly, Lieutenant Gregory brought a halt to the entire
group of eight strong. Colonial military, by the look of them.
Combat blue patched with the silver seal of the colonies.
Easing down,
the lieutenant grabbed a bit of mud into his fingers, rubbing
through it. Doing everything he could to scout the area ahead.
Seconds later,
a horde of undead sprang from the nearby tree line, approximately
twenty of them.
As the group
began to fire silenced rifles into the pack of wild infected, the
bodies of dead started dropping like panties on a poker night
Friday. This time becoming eternally dead.
All but one.
Its teeth shaved to a sheen and sprinting wildly at the man in
charge. No doubt the leader of their pack. The alpha male.
A single
pistol shot would end all of that. Snapping from a standard issue
pistol, though doing its deed silenced. The pistol was fitted with
a suppressor, as were the group’s rifles.
Hitting the
infected leader at point blank range, Lieutenant Gregory watched
the bastard drop backwards like a stone. Just out of reach as it
pummeled the rain-drenched ground. Finding its final resting
place.
“Scout up
ahead. They seem to be thinning out. Could be a sign of Hunters in
the area.” the lieutenant said.
“Sir, I don't
understand the need to continue tracking them. We could just let
them die down here with the infected.” one of the soldiers
remarked.
“Understanding
the purpose is not your job, executing my orders is.”
“Understood
sir.” the soldier replied, turning to order their scout ahead. All
in hopes of tracking down the location of Hunters on what remained
of Ronica.
Lieutenant
Gregory understood his soldier's reservation. He too wondered why
they continued to track down a race that had caused them so much
pain. It would be much easier to leave them be. But he was also the
ideal soldier, executing his orders without question. Something he
expected from the men as well.As Commander Dalton James sat
quietly, with a small glass of brown whiskey in one hand, his other
hand flipping a single revolver bullet through its fingers; Dalton
looked across the stars. Watching the lights of dozens of smaller
ships enter and depart from his own.
The God of
War. Not Dalton James, though he'd seen his fair share of war
throughout the years, but the ship beneath his feet. It was
massive. Designed for deep space travel and armed to the teeth, the
ship was meant to house occupants for tens, maybe even hundreds of
years.
In fact, the
entire fleet was. A ship designed to process fuel from rock.
Another equipped to churn foreign ice into drinkable water, as well
as filter the fleet's existing supply.
Every ship
within the fleet had its purpose, if only to provide large spaces
for living quarters. These people had essentially become a race
chained to the stars. Their former homes below, overrun with hordes
of the living dead. An infection of some type, though the fleet's
scientists had yet to explain its mystery. They understood it
quickly took the body of its host, but how the infection originally
spawned remained unexplainable.
“You alright
cowboy?” Cambria said, easing up behind the fleet's commander.
Softly massaging his tense shoulders.
Her hands were
a comfort to him. The touch of a woman he loved so dearly. More
than most could ever begin to comprehend based on their idea of
love.
“I sure don't
feel like a cowboy. I feel like some stiff behind a desk.”
“I'm sure
you'll get used to things with time.” she replied.
“Maybe,” he
admitted. “Maybe not. I'm like a wild animal baby, you can cage me
up but it doesn't mean I won't long for the days of running lose
again.” he added with a grin.
The life of an
officer was as fitting as the photos on Dalton's wall. Crooked with
time and a bit of bedroom shagging.
“I think the
fleet is waiting on your command. They trust your timing.” Cambria
said.
She was the
epitome of beautiful and had always been so. Attracted to Dalton
because of his heart, which overflowed with compassion. Though his
rugged look didn't hurt things either.
“Let's hope
you're right, cause I have no intentions of leaving anytime soon,”
Dalton replied, continuing his stare out into the stars. “We have
no idea what's waiting out there for us. Maybe a fresh start on a
string of planets ripe for the picking,” he added. “Or maybe
something a lot worse than anything our history speaks of.”
Walking to the
front of Dalton for a moment, Cambria eased herself onto his lap.
Straddling the smuggler turned commander and draping her arms
around his neck.
The mere touch
of her skin to the back of his neck, nothing short of
intoxicating.
“Who are you
trying to fool, 'ya big lug?” she asked. “You're stalling the fleet
to give Adam enough time to find his son, and I don't blame you. I
think that's admirable.”
“Just hope he
finds his boy.”
“He will,”
Cambria remarked, moving her hand to Dalton's chin and looking him
straight in the eyes. “You just need to have faith.” she added.
Dalton had
faith. He knew deep down that the day was soon approaching that
Adam would indeed find his son. He also hoped like hell they had
the firepower to take him back from the grip of the small fleet of
Vampires who ran off with him.
“You
understand the mission.” their lieutenant stated.
Rhino and
Glitter fully understood. They'd take a single phantom out into the
black of space and do something other pilots had been doing all
week long. Search for water.
When Craig
Banks signed up for the military as a teen, he had no idea that
within a few years' time, humanity would hang in the balance of a
mission he was in charge of. Flying the newest ship in the fleet
was added incentive, though he wasn't sure taking his eyes off of
Anna was even possible. Codename Glitter.
They'd flown
together countless time, though it had been done within the
confines of single occupant Swordfish fighter jets. Side by side.
This was different.
The phantom
was just that. Invisible. At least by the standards of current
radar equipment in the fleet. It was a chopper by most definitions,
though it was capable of deep space flight and had been designed
for extended trips. A single bunk in the rear of the oversized
chopper, its cockpit spacious and comfortable.
That spelled
disaster for Craig when it came to his longtime crush, Anna. He'd
never spoken to her of his feelings, and didn't plan on starting
now. Not at the end of the world. That would have to wait, but it
would be tough.
The phantom
was solid black. Designed to blend in with the stars. Even the
windshield of the small craft was mirrored black on its exterior.
Meant for seeing out as a pilot, but remaining undetected to anyone
looking on.
The phantom
was also packed out with mapping equipment and anything else that
would help the fleet locate needed supplies. It was essentially a
probe taking off into uncharted space that would return under the
direction of two solid pilots.
“Commander
James wishes to extend good luck to you both, and regrets not being
able to send you off personally.” the lieutenant added.
Yea, I bet
he does. Probably one of those pencil pushers who has never even
seen action.
Anna thought.
Several of the
fleet's marines stood firm. A sendoff that almost made the two
pilots feel as though it was a suicide mission. Two short range
Swordfish fighter jets standing by as well. Their escort into the
unknown of space.
They would
enter uncharted black at the upper-eastern portion of what was the
Skyla System. Ronica still within sight, though barely.
As Rhino and
Glitter walked slowly up the ramp which led to the interior of
their phantom craft, Craig looked back for a moment. Soaking up the
familiar surroundings of the interior around them. Vacant ships
being repaired. Mechanical Goliath units patrolling and several
deckhands looking on.
“Wonder what
they'll say at our memorial service?” Anna asked with a grin.
“Not even
funny.” Craig replied, turning to enter the ship with hesitation.
Pressing a large red button near the ramp which sealed their door
airtight.
“Hey, at least
you are in good company. Right?” she asked.
Anna had no
idea how true her statement was. Craig would have turned down the
mission if paired with anyone else, and still nearly declined it.
He'd put in a lot of missions up to this point. War missions. But
this was a brand new ballgame for him.
A trip into
nowhere and everywhere, all at once. Doing so beside the most
beautiful woman he'd ever met. Just the sound of Anna's voice was
enough to convince him that she was indeed his soul mate of
fate.
“Phantom One,
you have the runway.” the fleet's traffic controller advised.
Moments later,
the runway that led directly to the large door which opened into
space began to light up. First, the runway itself started glowing
with a bit of light blue, followed by flashing red arrows lining
both sides of their path. The typical layout for a ship this
size.
“Copy that
tower. We have the runway.” Glitter replied.