by J. A. Scorch
Teve's mouth opened to speak, but nothing came out. He stared into her eyes with raised brows and said, "I never thought it'd come to this." He chuckled to himself as he shifted his focus to a distant memory. "It used to be the two of us against the world. We fought the Zeal from day one while everyone was still panicking. We survived the worst. We are the only two left from our entire platoon. What happened?"
"I don't know what happened. But something changed you when you went off with X. You're drawn to this place like it's your home. It's not, though. Your home is up top."
"This is our home," Teve yelled. "The Zeal took it from us. You were there in the beginning, by my side as we tried to push them out of Los Angeles. You were there when we lost more than half of our people to this city. How can you just give up on that now?"
"No one is giving up," Moreno said, breaking his silence. "We're just trying to survive."
"Survive? You're joking, right? We're not surviving, Private. We're slowly dying. If we don't do something to even the odds between the Zeal and humanity, they'll continue to expand and change Earth into whatever the hell they want."
A hush etched out across the sewer. Teve thought he could sense signs of Mish starting to shift to his side of the argument, but she didn't lower her rifle in the slightest.
"Give me your weapon, Sergeant," Harris said with one hand outstretched. "Come back to base with us, and we can talk this all through."
Teve shook his head and laughed. "Don't speak to me like I'm crazy. Can't you see the reality we are going to have to face." He pointed his finger at the purple goo on the wall and stepped closer to it with his bare hand.
"Don't touch it," Harris shouted. "You said so yourself."
A smirk filled Teve's face as he knew what he needed to do to prevent the three from dragging him home.
"Don't do it, Teve," Mish said. "For me?"
Her sweet voice stopped his hand from touching the substance. The genuine concern in her eyes almost made him step away from the wall until his gaze lowered to the rifle still trained on his heart.
Teve snapped out his hand and grabbed a piece of the Zeal goo and let the thick liquid run over his entire hand.
"No," she uttered.
"What have you done?" Harris demanded. "You goddamn idiot. We're all at risk now."
Teve smiled back. "Your move."
"Screw this. He can stay behind. Moreno. Mish. Let's go."
Harris turned away and grabbed the private by the bicep. The two walked toward home. He spoke over his shoulder. "Come on; we're leaving. He's made his choice."
Mish stared into Teve's eyes and finally lowered her weapon. "Why did you do it?" she whispered.
Teve's smile faded to nothing as he realized the consequences of defying his only friend. He wondered if he'd ever see her again.
She closed her eyes and swiveled away from Teve before he could say another word. As she dissolved into the shadows, he wanted to tell her how sorry he was, but a force in the back of his mind pulled him back toward the Zeal base. The goo was already taking hold of his every thought.
The three soldiers left Teve alone in the sewer as he let himself drop down to the wet ground. Darkness crept in and killed the light around as the Zeal material seeped into his system.
Chapter Forty-Two
Porter stared at Garcia with his mouth open after hearing her latest idea for the big mission. "You want to hit all three Zeal carriers at once. Have you lost your mind?"
"No," she said, stepping toward him. "It can be done. With the right strategy and a bit of luck, we can pull this thing off and end the three Cyclones in one go. The bastards won't know what hit them."
Porter stumbled backward and shook his head. "How? We barely possess the resources to take on one, and you expect me to destroy all three?"
"Don't be ridiculous. I'm not that crazy. You'll be attacking the one ship while separate stealth teams handle the other two."
"Other stealth teams? Why are you only telling me this now?"
"We didn't know if the ships would be ready in time. Like I said, this mission is on thin ice and will continue to be until it succeeds or fails."
Porter brought a hand to his face and held on to the bridge of his nose for a few seconds. "This mission is turning into a hurried mess; you understand that, right? Why are you and the MAF in such a rush to attack the Cyclones? It's been three years of fruitless survival while the Zeal carries on defending Earth with ease. Why the sudden urge to screw everything up?"
Garcia crossed her arms and leaned to the side. "I've been waiting to hear those words from you. Frankly, I thought they would have come sooner."
"So, tell me. What is all this?"
She sighed as she stared up at the ceiling and shook her head. "The MAF believes we are on borrowed time. Intelligence sourced from Earth suggests our alien friends are preparing to release a new weapon against the people down there with the potential to end the resistance once and for all."
Porter shook his head as he clenched his fist. "What kind of weapon are we talking about?"
Garcia exhaled through her nose. "The very people who resist the Zeal are close to being wiped out. These aliens are altering the minds of the humans they capture to build up a new army of hybrid soldiers. We don't even fully comprehend what they are capable of, but Command thinks it won't bode well for anyone involved, the MAF included."
Porter struggled to take her seriously as he scratched the back of his head. "This is stupid, right? Secret hybrid armies? I mean how can you even source this from Earth? All we do is drop supplies and link up coded messages to the soldiers on the ground. They don't send us any new information."
"No, they don't, but the several MAF agents we have on Earth do. We utilize people on the planet to actively watch over the Zeal for any changes in their occupation. During a supply run, the agents link up comms from the surface and transmit data packages up to the Stalkers when they make it through. The pilots don't realize, but they are receiving data as well as sending it."
Porter didn't know what to say. He had completed countless runs to Earth's orbit and back. He would have been one of the clueless pilots receiving transmissions without knowing it. On more than one occasion, he had attempted to sneak some words into the transfer in hope they'd somehow reach his brother on the ground. Realizing his messages were being intercepted by some MAF agent only added more rage to his argument.
"Why the secrecy? Why place agents on the ground serving Mars exclusively? They could be giving important intelligence to the soldiers on Earth who are fighting a war they can't win."
With lowered brows, Garcia leaned down. "Think about it, Porter. Earth has fallen to the Zeal. They've lost everything. Their armies are hiding underground, fighting a war on more fronts than they can handle. Mars, on the other hand, holds a chance to stop this invasion before it spreads to our planet and wipes out humanity."
"So we let them die and pick up the pieces once the dust settles?"
Garcia snatched up a tablet before Porter had an opportunity to respond. She tapped a few commands into the device and handed it to him.
He grabbed the panel and saw an image of a man who seemed to be half-human. He had never seen a Zeal soldier up close before, but this person looked more alien than anything else.
"What is this? He's covered in purple metal blades."
"That, Porter, is the result of Zeal experimentation. This is what they do to the humans they capture on a planet they occupy. We can't let that happen to Mars. Otherwise, there is no telling if we will ever overcome such a threat to our species."
A tear ripped through Porter's mind as a series of conflicting thoughts competed for attention. "I can't tell you what pisses me off more: the Zeal or the MAF. We can't abandon Earth like this. This is wrong, and you know it."
"I never said any of this was right or fair or indeed favorable. It's war with an enemy that doesn't play by the rules. I don't expect you to understand this, but you need to accept
the reality the Zeal has forced upon humanity."
All Porter could do was shake his head. Garcia had unloaded a lifetime of secrets on him in the space of a few minutes. He fell into the nearest seat defeated with the knowledge he couldn't talk to anyone about what he now knew.
"You said something about coordinating in all the craziness. What did you need me to do with the three teams?"
"Organize them. We must hit the three Cyclones at the same time for maximum impact. If we can wipe out their carriers, then we stand a chance of retaking the planet."
"And what about this secret army they're building? If the forces of Earth are struggling against the enemy we understand, how are we supposed to handle their latest threat?" He held up the image of the hybrid covered in sharp, bladed armor.
Garcia grabbed the tablet back off Porter and tossed it on her desk. "One disaster at a time, Lieutenant. Focus on the mission. If we take out the Zeal fleet, we can recover Earth's orbit for humanity and start the next phase of the war on our terms."
He stood from the chair and ran his fingers through his hair. "I don't even know where to begin. I mean, the X90S can't communicate with anyone. How am I supposed to get around that problem?"
"Our techs are still working on the comm system issue. They are close to having it functional. Should be running by the time the mission begins."
Porter nodded. "Well, that's a start. What else have you got for me?"
"Contact the MBC Triangulum and speak with Lieutenant Alex Rivera. She will be the pilot taking on the second ship. She can fill you in on the third pilot and battle carrier. Coordinate the mission between yourselves as best you see fit. I don't care how you get the job done."
Porter walked away from the commodore towards the exit, his mind spinning.
"Oh, and Porter."
He stopped at the door. "Yeah?"
"Don't tell Cannon about any of this. She's on the other side of the campaign. I don't care that you two are sharing racks; just keep a lid on everything we've discussed today."
With a huff, Porter said nothing and left the control room as a knot tore through his stomach. After less than a few seconds, he almost wished he had chosen to go back to his cell than to work for Garcia.
Chapter Forty-Three
An hour passed. Maybe more, maybe less. Teve had no idea. He trudged along the tunnel toward the Zeal base, sensing its presence now more than ever. He almost believed he was in a dream, one he never experienced before that felt incredibly familiar. Every time he wanted to yell out loud, a voice in his head shut him up, silencing reason, only ever chanting encouragement to keep moving forward.
The water in the sewer had disappeared, replaced instead by the purple Zeal goo and tech. It was as if the substance contained tiny nanobots that crawled through his system, altering him from within.
"Mish? Where are we?" he asked out loud. By the time he realized she wasn't there, he had lost his train of thought.
"Hello Tevey," said a voice up ahead. Teve couldn't see anyone or any sign of X. Still, the voice beckoned him. "This way. Keep coming. You're almost home."
Teve had no idea if the voice was real or in his head. All he understood was he had to obey every word. Refusing the voice was like trying not to breathe. "I'm coming. I'm coming home."
He carried on down the tunnel, seeing the goo covering every single surface until there was nothing left. The round shape of the sewer transformed into an angular hall, feeling wider at the ceiling than down at the floor.
"Almost," the voice said. "You're almost home."
"I'm almost home," Teve chanted. A few moments hummed by before he realized the truth. "No. Wait. This isn't my home."
A low guttural rumble echoed ahead. Teve stared forward, waiting for more Zeal experiments to jump out and kill him. "I'm ready," he said. "Take me now."
The thunder grew in volume, building to deafening levels within the space of ten seconds. A blast of air gushed toward Teve's face and passed over his entire form escaping the tunnel around him, carrying the rumble along with it.
He fell to his knees for a moment, landing in more of the purple Zeal tech. It latched on his skin and glistened as it connected with his body. Every second that ticked by seemed like a day as the voices in his head began to overlap and demand more from his crumbling mind. Only pulling each hand out of the substance managed to sever the grasp the goo held over him.
"No. I'm leaving. This isn't right. I'm going. I ... " He couldn't complete his thought. A sound up ahead distracted him from regaining control over who he once was: Sergeant Teve Porter of the United Earth Forces. His family was all alive except possibly his brother Bradley up on Mars.
A thumping vibrated through the goo-covered floor and took over, rising in level, multiplying with every new second of time.
Specialist Roxanne Mishina of the UEF entered his mind, drowning out the noise up ahead. Her long, dark-brown hair swayed in a breeze as her olive skin shone in an afternoon sun. Her eyes stabbed into his as they appeared from the shadows of the Zeal base.
"Mish ... you came for me ... you—"
The thumping stomp of feet broke the illusion as Teve witnessed Mish transform into four oversized metallic soldiers of the Zeal army. Their long, skinny legs held up their bulky, armor-covered frames and cylindrical heads.
Teve stumbled and fell on his back, landing down in the goo as the Stiltz resumed their patrol directly to his location. He rolled over and tried to crawl away as they stomped after him, covering a large space of ground with every step they took.
This was the end. There would be no savior, no quick fix or solution. They had him. He spun around and pulled out his pistol, standing up a second later to face death head on. He would not let them take him. He would not let them win. The last bullet in his gun would have his name on it.
The lead Zeal came right up to Teve and stopped a few feet in front of him, staring down at the lesser being without eyes.
Teve held the pistol to its face with a trembling hand. The weapon looked heavy in his left arm as his right screamed out for more chemicals to fight off the pain. He flicked off the safety and pulled back the slide with his dying limb and kept the gun steady, long enough to line up a perfect shot.
The head Zeal didn't budge, not at all phased by the bullet about to be dispensed into its face.
"Die," Teve said as he squeezed the trigger. But nothing happened. The weapon didn't fire. No bullets came out. He pulled again, but the sidearm had jammed up tight, refusing to work, refusing to shoot a bullet at one of its own.
"No," Teve whispered as he discovered the truth. He didn't want to believe it, but the gun didn't jam; he couldn't pull the trigger. How could he kill one of his own? How could he defy his masters?
The pistol dropped to the floor, splashing in the purple goo. He sensed his arms fall as his body gave in.
The four soldiers parted ways as a fifth Zeal came through. The human Teve once knew as X stood before him, covered in razor sharp purple armor. The blades protruded from his skin, piercing his entire body to blend seamlessly into an outer layer. X's two purple eyes pulsated in the tunnel, feeding off the environment around him.
"Hello, Tevey," X said. "Glad you could finally join us."
Chapter Forty-Four
Porter made long-range contact with the MBC Triangulum. The MAF battle carrier was a larger, newer version of the Andromeda, coming from the same family of carriers. It housed more fighters, more guns, and more soldiers. Why Porter would be coordinating some of its pilots left him more confused than he already was.
Lieutenant Alex Rivera received his hail and responded a few minutes later. Their communication was instant, using a quantum entanglement communicator to cover the considerable distance between the two ships. The two lieutenants greeted each other formally and got down to business straight away.
"This operation will be tight if we are going to pull this off," Rivera said. "We need to synchronize our fighters under one commander to t
ake out the three Cyclones."
"It's going to be a rough day. Do you want to command the three teams?"
"I think it'll be best if I do. No offense, but the Andromeda is not equipped to lead a fight of this kind. We need the Triangulum's reliability to ensure everything goes smoothly."
Porter shook his head, holding off on responding. There was no point getting into an argument with Rivera about whose ship was better. "Fine with me, Lieutenant. What about the third team? Which battle carrier will that be?"
"MBC Centaurus. Lieutenant Karl Fellows will be flying its X90S. Both of our ships will be arriving at your location in an hour. We will be launching immediately."
"One hour? Has Garcia filled you in on what happened last time?"
"Yes. I'm well aware your ship malfunctioned. We have the data and are implementing updates to our own configuration to ensure the stealth modules won't fail."
"How can you be so sure? We need to take the time to do this right."
"We don't have time. The main fleet is bringing their plans forward to attack the Zeal head on. If we don't pull this off now, then prepare yourself for a whole other fight."
He slammed his fist down into the console of the communicator and pushed back from the desk. He still had his earpiece in but held off on saying anything to Rivera.
"Porter?"
"Yeah ... I'm here."
"Garcia warned me about your frustrations with everything. I just want to say I get it. I've been there. This operation is nothing short of a long shot, but long shots are all we have these days."
"I'm not just frustrated, Rivera, I'm worried we are going to screw everything up and end up leaving Mars exposed to the Zeal. I don't seem to understand how you can all be so confident about such a razor thin plan."
"Who said we're confident? No one is. We all realize how quickly this could fall apart, but we have to try. The Zeal never gave us the opportunity to process their invasion. They just attacked our two planets and figured out which of the two would yield the quickest. All we can do is place one foot forward and hope for the best possible outcome."
