Chaotic Worlds (The Fleet, Book 3)

CHAOTIC WORLDS

Gunship XIV

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 © 2019 John Michael Davis

Editing by: Russo Archer

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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Chapter 1

*Separation*

Never before had humanity been this divided. Mankind had been knocked back into near extinction, yet they remained separated. Legally in charge, Doctor Arness. The official army at his back and the law by his side. When he was present, there could be no mistake as to who was in charge. That said, Dalton James had his support. As a former soldier of many wars and a man of the people, he had respect among many throughout the military ranks. Some of them openly supporting him, while others did so in secret.

Dalton James had not been seen in public for several weeks, which took to Doctor Arness with a bit of alarm. Men didn't simply fall off of the map. Especially the type of men who threatened revenge while gaining support through heroic acts of war. Soldiers followed Doctor Arness simply because the law demanded they do. With Dalton James, however, it was done so voluntarily. His deeds while wearing the sacred blue uniform were well noted.

The doctor assumed Dalton was still nestled somewhere inside of the small city of Second Glimmeria, which had been mankind's last resort for a place to call home. Built atop an ancient city of the Husk race – a mighty people who very much resembled an Orc nation.

The undead, as survivors knew them, although the infected were quite different. Still living and breathing, just as they were before infection, the horde of humanity's unluckiest were just stripped down to the one primal instinct within all of us. Killing.

We all feel rage at times, there's no mystery to it. With the infected, however, they had lost all sense of reason. Every speck of self-control vanishing with their ability to speak or exist among the living. Simply put, they were animals with a thirst to kill and the overwhelming numbers to do it. Having dwindled humanity down to just a few thousand souls.

Just as the plague had arrived without warning, infection spread too quickly to control. Planet by planet showing the systems within a span of only days. Weeks later, pushing what remained of living, breathing humans to the far-reaches of the Skyla System.

Ronica had been their last stand, though only temporarily. Those in charge understood there was no chance of winning, and, even more impressive, they had admitted to an inability to win in war. A trait scarcely found among the leaders of humanity.

The last stand had been altered to a plea of holding their ground long enough to build a fleet, which they had. Many heroes had died on the bloody soil of Ronica to ensure that a few may survive.

A powerful need for water had led the fleet to the opposite corner of the Skyla System to inhabit a city which had been abandoned thousands of years before. And, with any other government system throughout history, a thirst for power had divided them once more.

Doctor Arness was the dictator, Dalton James was the democracy. What remained of humanity would forever be locked into one or the other – but not both.

While the doctor had no idea of Dalton's whereabouts, he had something almost as good. Dalton's best friend in military custody. Adam Michaels had been formally charged with three counts of murder, and Doctor Arness knew that he'd never face the death penalty without a fight from Dalton and his supporters. So the good doctor waited patiently – though he continued going through the standard procedures of trying to locate Dalton James and charge him with accessory to murder. A false charge, of course, but the doctor had his reasons.

A trial would legitimize his power to many of the survivors. It would also bring Dalton James back a final time, that much was guaranteed. It was not a matter of if, but when, and the doctor knew that Dalton would likely return with guns blazing.

He'd made sure that his guns were ready to blaze as well. Time trickling away as the ultimate showdown grew closer by the hour.

As Adam Michaels made the long walk from his cell of solitary confinement, he found pleasure in seeing overhead lighting in such quantity. His cell was lit by a single long tube of lighting and he'd been held there long enough to see the beauty in such a long stretch of hallway before him. So many lights.

Nervous? one of the soldiers asked.

Adam didn't answer, nor did the soldier expect him to. He'd spoken to no one outside of his appointed attorney for weeks on end. Choosing his battles wisely.

If you're found guilty, the soldier said with a grin. Who knows? It may my own rifle that puts an end to your worthless murdering life.

The words would have stung deeply enough to fight, not so long ago. But weeks in solitude, a longing for his son and deep misery for two lovers lost to mortality had made him a different man. Silence can calm even the wildest of beings and Adam Michaels was no different. Instead, he chose to continue a stare onto the endless beauty of the lighting above.

Right through this door, traitor. the second armed guard remarked. Pointing the shackled prisoner to a door which opened up into a luxurious courtroom. Built especially for this high-profile trial and any that would follow for many years to come.

Doing what he could to ignore everyone present, Adam looked to his attorney as the slow shuffle of clanging metal allowed him just enough wiggle room to walk. Bound like a traitor, though he was anything but.

Anyone who knew Adam Michaels, knew he was a damned hero. His own hands had saved the lives of hundreds, if not thousands of soldiers around him – which had been the case on the day in question. He'd killed three men who would have surely gunned Dalton James down in cold blood. In his mind, there was no question that he was justified in putting three mangy dogs among men to rest, but justice has a mind of its own sometimes. Especially when someone is making a play for total control, which Doctor Arness certainly was. The biting steel of his shackles a stiff reminder of that very fact.

Please be seated, an older man requested. Wrapped in the robe of a judge, though Adam wondered if the man had been a judge prior to the outbreak of living dead which had infected the planets surrounding them. We're here today to hear the plea of Adam Michaels and allow him time to make a statement.

Your honor, Adam's lawyer replied. My client officially pleads not guilty to all charges and has declined his right to make a statement.

His words took the judge by surprise. A man with the loss of his own life hanging in the balance, refusing to comment on the charges in front of him. Many within the hierarchy of their government were in attendance, including Doctor Arness.

I must say, I'm surprised. Do you not wish to make a statement to those who've gathered here today, Mr. Michaels? I'm giving the opportunity to do so.

Looking to his lawyer for a moment, Adam slowly stood to his feet. Preparing to speak, though his attorney had advised against it.

Yes, Adam replied. Yes I would.

His lawyer braced for the worst. He understood there was almost no chance of winning a case in which the deck had been stacked against him. His presence there merely a chance to serve as the contact man between Adam and his friend Dalton James. Still, he understood how little Adam cared for the charade of the coming trial and would likely end any chance he did have with the snap of his tongue.

Adam paused for a moment, listening to the frantic silence of