Chapter 1: John Colt and the storm. (Part 1)

"Everyone, please board the ship." A female teacher said as I looked towards her. She had red hair that went down her back, stopping just above her ass. Mrs. Watson had been my crush since freshman year. I watched as everyone boarded, staying in the back by myself.

This was the last trip of my school life; there were over 700 students and about 30 teachers. The teachers had a rough time dealing with the kids. Mrs. Watson was in charge of my group, so I had some luck, but this was going to be a long five-day trip.

"John? John Colt?!" Mrs. Watson called out, bringing me out of my thoughts. "Try to hang out with some of the others during these five days." She said with a smile that made my chest tighten. If she weren't married to another teacher, I would have asked her out a long time ago, but I had to push that feeling down inside my chest.

"I will try, Mrs. Watson," I said with a bit of guilt, as I could never really handle dealing with other people, since they would complain about the littlest things that had nothing to do with survival and, overall, didn't amount to jack shit.

She smiled and nodded before walking away, looking at her ass inside those tight jeans made me gulp as I shook my head and started to walk. I made sure to get a room by myself with my family's money. I wasn't hurting for money, as the Colt family is a well-known family in the US.

Samuel Colt, my ancestor, was one of the fathers of making the revolver commercially viable. His gunsmithing abilities during his time were the reason his manufacturing methods were at the forefront of the Industrial Revolution, to the point that even non-firearm-related businesses began copying his methods.

He was one of the first to make efficient use of the assembly line, and his use of interchangeable parts was years ahead of most businesses. His innovative use of art and other elements to promote his wares made him a marketing genius. The guy was a genius American inventor, industrialist, and businessman.

Oh, and he even tried to make mines for sea warfare, but John Quincy Adams called his mines 'unchristian contraptions' and 'not fair and honest warfare'. Well, it's not like he didn't have ups and downs. But I still have pride in the fact that he was my ancestor, I thought as I made my way to the door of my room and opened it.

Putting my bag that had my clothes in it on the bed before taking off my backpack and pulling out a waterproof case from it. Unlocking it with my fingerprint and a six-digit code. Pulling out a laptop and tablet along with it, this had my designs and patents for my new works.

Since the start of the Russo-Ukrainian War, I have been working on drones capable of firing guns. Especially the Gatling-style guns, as the Gatling gun that Richard Jordan Gatling invented. Later, it became motorized and became a force to be reckoned with.

Powering up the laptop and tablet, I pulled up the blueprints of my drones. They looked like wolves — but bigger — inspired by nature. I have already built the drones and tested them. They can handle pretty much any terrain other than swampy, which I still needed to work out.

The problem is now I need to test them with the weapons, which will take me a few months to work out. I don't know how the strain of firing the M61, which is a 20 mm autocannon, is. But I also have two others set up for the M134 Minigun 5.56 version on the GAU-19 .50 cal version, which aren't in the Vulcan family, but I needed a middle ground, even though the .50 cal version fires somewhat slower, since it only has three barrels instead of six.

I feel like those three really test the drones' bodies. Of course, the M61 drone is way taller than the others, standing about 9 feet tall and 7 feet wide. But it also has anti-armor and anti-air abilities with two javelin-style missiles and two stinger-style systems, and I have made my own drone-jamming ability that I tested on the best drone models from around the world, achieving a 99% jamming rate.

The only one without anti-armor or anti-air abilities was the M134 Minigun system, because it wasn't big enough to carry them; it would lose its mobility with them. But all of them can jam drones that aren't their models from around 3km to 5km, depending on the model.

These three were the babies I had been working on for the last three years, and I am proud to say, I am 75% done with them. Once I start live-firing them and working out the kinks that will come from it, I will go down in the history books as the man who took humans off the battlefield.

Opening the firing program I have been working on for the last six months, I got to work. The drones had an AI system dealing with target acquisition and priority targeting. It went, armor and air assets, anti-armor assets, then ground forces. As the sun went down, I noticed it had grown dark in my room, so I stretched before saving my work.

"Looks like it's about time for dinner," I said to myself as I unplugged my laptop and turned off the tablet, put them back into the waterproof case, closed it, locked it, put it back in my backpack, zipped it up, and put it on my back.

I never let it leave my side, as if other countries got this, it would be back for the US. So I kept it by my side even when I slept. As I was about to leave my room, thunder rumbled. Walking to the window and onto the balcony, I looked off into the distance.

"Looks like a major storm is rolling in, it's odd though. I looked at the weather for the next few days, and it said that it wasn't going to rain until the last day we came back." I said to myself, looking at the dark clouds about ten miles away.

As I was about to turn around, I heard giggling from the room next to mine as I looked over the wall separating my balcony from the other. I froze. It was Mrs. Watson and her husband making out naked.

Mrs. Watson's body was amazing, but the more I watched, the less I liked it. I guess I have a jealousy issue, I thought to myself, letting out a small sigh as I walked back into my room. Before heading out to get something to eat, I was starving.

As I entered the dining hall, there was a section just for students, since there were other people on this ship. As I walked towards it, a Hispanic woman lost her footing and crashed into me, and both of us fell to the floor and kissed. She was sitting on my lap, but she didn't pull away.

Her tongue slipped into my mouth, shocking me as our eyes looked at each other. She had pretty blue eyes and black hair, and her tan skin made her feel really seductive. She slowly pulled her mouth away while sitting on my lap, licking her red lips with a smile.

"Think of that as an apology for bumping into you." She said with a seductive voice, her Spanish accent made my cock get a little hard. She looked down and smiled as she leaned in and whispered. "Not bad, my room is 328." She said before getting up.

She was wearing a sexy dress as she walked away, looking over her shoulder as she met up with a group of four other women. As they giggled and looked at me, speaking in a low voice. I pulled myself off the ground, walking towards the buffet-style food area, and picked up a plate.

I could hear students whispering about what had just happened. Some looked on with envy, while others looked on with contempt. The ones with contempt were mostly popular guys. I wasn't exactly good-looking, but I wasn't ugly. I was just average —nothing that really set me apart.

Brown, rough-looking hair with pale skin, as I spent most of my time in my family's workshop or in my room working on computer programs or schematics. Just the average kid without any looks to grab a girl's attention. I sighed as I found a place to eat by myself.

I couldn't stop thinking about the woman, and the urge to go to her room crept inside my head as I remembered Mrs. Watson making out with her husband naked, and my jealousy got the better of me. Finishing eating, I started my way to room 328.

Stopping in front of the door, I struggled with whether I should knock or not. I found my hand lifting as I knocked on the door. No going back now, I was going to take the first step to forget about Mrs. Watson.