Reclaim: Books 1-3

by J. A. Scorch

  Her dying face hovered over his own, blaming him for an inevitable death. He couldn't tell her otherwise as he was the one to infect himself to begin with. Her only mistake was trying to save him.

  As her condemning eyes filled his heart with guilt, a new vision began to enter his mind as Teve's dreams made him think about his brother, Bradley. The MAF pilot was still alive, somehow bringing about the destruction of one of the Zeal carriers that dominated Earth at the exact moment Teve was about to be killed by X. The loss of the carrier temporarily allowed Mish to pull him from X's grip and gave them the opportunity to escape. The timing was astronomical, but Teve remembered seeing his brother's face with absolute clarity that day.

  The two hadn't seen each other since a few months before the Zeal arrived over three years ago. Now, there was a slight chance they could be reunited.

  "Tower. Wake up," said a voice above him.

  Teve's eyes cracked open to find Romeo hovering.

  "Come on. It's your shift." She handed him a rifle that would never be fired within the confined space of the building.

  He stood from his cot and stretched out. It was his turn to go on patrol and stand guard for the next thirty minutes instead of getting valuable sleep. The practice was beyond infuriating, but Teve understood why COs insisted upon the routine.

  He took his post by the mess door and realized Pocket was awake and standing outside.

  "Pocket? Why are you up? We only have like two more hours before Ward comes blasting in here, if we're lucky."

  "I know. I don't sleep anymore."

  Teve let out a breath of stale air. "Is it the dreams?"

  She glanced at him for a moment. "Yeah. Damn things won't let me sleep right. All I do is toss and turn and end up covered in sweat. Might as well relax like this instead."

  "I get it," he said. "I have the same messed up nightmares. I guess we all do, but we need to move forward."

  "I don't think that can happen. We are about to attack the one place I should be as far away from as possible."

  "Wait," Teve said, moving in front of her. "You feel that, too?"

  "Of course. We all do, I'm guessing. How can you not? Why else would they take us so far away from the base?"

  Teve let himself groan for a second. "I guess I always knew that deep down. The damn doctor at Black Forest got in my head about everything. He constantly made me question myself. It never ended."

  Pocket nodded as her brows sharpened. She didn’t say anything to the mention of Hoang.

  "It has to end, though. If we can destroy that base, maybe these dreams will go away. Maybe we can be normal again."

  Teve scratched at his chin as he tried to imagine an ordinary world after the Zeal. Every major city in the world had been wiped out. The rebuilding alone would take a generation. Then there was the possibility of the MAF seizing control of the vulnerable planet for their own ambitions. Anything could happen in that power vacuum.

  "So, how long have you been, uh, infected?" Teve asked.

  "Not the best word in the world, is it?"

  "No. It sounds like we're all a pack of zombies or something."

  Pocket laughed. "I like that. Zombies. Zombies vs. the Zeal. Could be an epic battle."

  Chuckling back, Teve felt happy to be able to joke around with someone again. He couldn't remember the last time he had a conversation with anyone that wasn't deadly serious.

  "And to answer your question," she said. "About a month now. It was rather rapid at first, the abilities. Now they've leveled out. I seem to be as capable as anyone else here."

  "Yeah, I'm the same. It seems this crazy virus has reached a peak. I guess I'm glad nothing worse has happened. Ward told me most people end up dead when the virus gets into their system."

  Pocket gave him a weak smile and darted her head away. Teve realized he'd struck a nerve. "Are you okay?"

  "Yeah," she said turning back with eyes full of tears. "Just thinking about my friends. The four of us were on patrol. We'd been sent into the city to collect a dropped package that had drifted in the wrong direction. We got forced into a firefight we couldn't win, and eventually, the Zeal drones surrounded us. They knew they had us beat, but still, they took their time zapping us one by one until we were all taken as prisoners to the base." Pocket shifted away from his stare and sniffed a few times.

  Shuffling on the spot, Teve felt like an idiot for mentioning the deadliness of the virus. He stretched out a hand and slowly placed it on her shoulder. She spun around and wrapped her arms around his chest. She sobbed into his fatigues a moment later, so he set down the rifle on the door frame and returned the hug.

  "They dragged us to that place and threw us on the floor in a small room full of other captured soldiers. They were all scared and confused. Then, all I remembered was a thick substance covering me from head to toe. A few hours later, I regained consciousness and some mobility. I saw the others being lifted into the walls of a horrible room one-by-one. But my sergeant, he managed to move, too. He had a few EMPs in his hands and set them off when the arms came for him. The blast fried everything, enough for me to stand up. I tried to grab him, but he couldn't move. Something invisible held him there. He told me to go."

  Teve could see her eyes remembering the hard decision she made. He stepped in and said, "You had no choice. It was the only way you could survive."

  "But I left them there. All of them. And now they're probably all dead or Zeal slaves."

  "Hey, it's okay. You did what you had to. You were the only one in that group who was meant to get out. You need to accept that and move on. We all do."

  The two of them shared an embrace for a few more minutes before Pocket broke it off and stepped a few feet back. "I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't mean to unload. I guess it all kind of came out, you know?"

  "I'm happy to listen. Beats just standing around waiting for my shift to finish."

  "Have you spotted any Zeal yet?" she asked with a chuckle.

  Teve furrowed his brow and pretended to check the line with his rifle. "Haven't seen any, but they're out there."

  The two continued to laugh until an alarm blared out overhead. A red beacon flashed from every corner of the hall. A moment later, Prescott and Ward came barreling down the path, weapons in hand. They ran straight up to Pocket and gave her a rifle that matched the one in Teve's hands. The rest of the team got shouted out of their beds and were given the same thing.

  "Listen up people. We've got a situation on our hands."

  Standing back, Teve realized the disturbance had to be a drill of some sort. It was all too convenient for it to happen during the precious little time they had to sleep in. With crossed arms, he listened.

  "The base is under attack as we speak. A small team of Zeal have infiltrated the main gates and are headed right for us."

  Teve had to hand it to Ward. He was starting to sound convincing. The man had even gone to the trouble of getting Prescott involved in the hysterics.

  "How have the Zeal attacked us so far away from their base?" Bean asked.

  "Excellent question, Private. We're about to find out." Ward pulled a rifle from over his shoulder and checked the chamber for a round. "Weapons hot, people. Let's move out."

  Ward led the way while the rest filed behind. Teve took his time and had to be coaxed by Prescott to get a move on.

  "Relax, Corporal. This is just some drill the lieutenant is throwing at us. What? Did you think I wouldn't work it out?"

  Prescott came up to Teve's face and grabbed him by the shoulders. "This isn't a drill, dipshit. The damn Zeal are here. I've already lost three guards. Now move the fuck out and put your abilities to use." Prescott shoved him along.

  With his mouth open, Teve turned around to see Ward's face again. The man wasn't acting.

  "Go. Move out, Private," Prescott shouted.

  Teve stumbled forward and checked his rifle and found it was indeed loaded with real bullets. He was about to fight the Zeal again in the last pla
ce he ever expected to see them.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Porter and Briggs returned after their brief time away. Porter spent his hour with Cannon in the secluded section of the ship only the two of them knew about. He was beyond tempted to stay there with her, but the fate of the fleet hung in the air, forcing them to part ways.

  "How was your rest?" Briggs asked, nudging him in the ribs.

  "Not long enough. Did you sleep?"

  "No, man. Couldn't be done. Too much going through my head right now."

  "I know what you mean. This is all happening so fast. I feel like we're heading face first into a storm. All I can say is that the Garcia better be right about this."

  "Second that," Briggs said as they approached the control room. Garcia paced around the small area inside.

  "Gentlemen," the commodore said as they entered. "Take a seat."

  Briggs and Porter sat down beside a heavily armed Marine decked out in thick battle armor who had his helmet plonked down on one of the consoles.

  "Captain Murphy. This is Lieutenant Briggs and Captain Porter."

  Murphy stood and extended a gloved hand. Porter grabbed the man's hand and felt his crushing grip.

  "Pleasure to meet you both," Murphy said.

  The three sat down and faced Garcia as she remained standing.

  "As you all know, we are facing an extremely dire situation. In less than six hours, Command plans on hitting the Zeal Cyclone with everything we've got left. Frankly, we can predict how that battle will end. The Zeal outnumber our flight-ready fighters four to one. According to our best estimates, the odds are stacked against that mission being successful. What I am proposing is that we even the odds before the attack."

  Murphy, Briggs, and Porter all glanced toward one another. Murphy gave Porter a nod and faced Garcia again as she continued.

  "If we can infiltrate the Cyclone as we have in the past using the stealth technology at our disposal, we can insert a few Marines inside that ship to do some critical damage. Captain Porter will fly a team of Marines under Captain Murphy's command into the enemy carrier. A distraction by a few squadrons of Stalkers will coax the Zeal into opening their hanger bays for the two X90S fighters to enter. The Marines will be loaded into the package bay of Porter's Stalker for insertion into the Cyclone. Once inside, they will seek out and destroy key components within the hanger bay that allow the Zeal to launch their fighters. Briggs will act as a backup should Porter's X90S fail in any way. Are there any questions?"

  Porter felt his arm rise like he was back in school. "Just one question, Commodore."

  "What is it?"

  He cleared his throat. "How will the Marines figure out what to destroy? We barely understand how the Cyclones operate let alone how their inner workings function."

  "We possess intelligence that points us in the right direction."

  "Intelligence? What intelligence? Wait, you don't mean from the previous operation?"

  "Yes, Porter. Your ship captured a lot of useful information during your time inside. The data you provided us with has pointed our experts in the right direction to where they believe will be the best place to set down a few charges."

  "Charges? Like as in explosives?"

  "Yes. How else are we supposed to do it?" Garcia pulled up an image on one of her displays.

  Porter gawked at a familiar scene inside the Cyclone hanger bay he had dropped a nuke into not so long ago.

  "Right there. This central spire splinters off across the whole area of the hanger bay in a complete circle. It's connected to every claw that holds a Triton. We believe the destruction of this spire will cause the Tritons to stop functioning."

  "That's a giant assumption you're making there. That spire might cause the entire ship to explode. Command wants this thing left alive so the MAF can roll in and learn every Zeal secret. What if we blow up the whole Cyclone?"

  Leaning down over a console with both hands palm down, Garcia stared into Porter's eyes with a familiar look. "It's a risk we ought to take, Captain."

  Murphy stood next to Porter and stepped a little closer to the conversation. "If I may, Commodore, let me explain this a bit further."

  Garcia threw up both arms. "Fine. Explain it to him then. See how far you get before you pull your sidearm out."

  Porter glanced sideways at Murphy for a second before turning to face him.

  "Captain. This intelligence wasn't thrown together based on a hunch. We've cross-checked data with our people on Earth who have studied Zeal infrastructure in detail. As you know, the planet is covered in Zeal bases. These areas act in similar ways to the Cyclones, only granting the Zeal ships a limited operation range. Command made the mistake of disrespecting that range with the fleet."

  "Stupid move, if you ask me," Porter said, looking to Garcia.

  "Anyway," Murphy said to recapture Porter's attention. "The data we have been sent has shown us the importance of each base's center point. We believe that a weakness exists within these central cores. All we need is for you to fly my team of six Marines into that area and we'll do the rest. It's that simple."

  Porter gave the captain a moment to feel victorious in his little speech before he spoke. "Simple, huh? I guess we'll see how simple it all is then, won't we?"

  "Yes, we will, Porter. In all honesty, you two are getting the easy end of the deal while my Marines do the bulk of the lifting."

  "Hey, this is not my operation, Murphy. Take that up with the commodore. I just do the flying, after all."

  Murphy looked like he was about to wrap his knuckles around Porter's lips.

  Briggs piped up and faced the Marine. "Question, sir."

  "Go ahead."

  "Won't the Zeal spot you the second you leave the ship?"

  "I'll take this one, Captain," Garcia said, chuckling to herself. "Good question, Lieutenant. I thought no one here was going to raise the point. The Marines will be utilizing some experimental stealth suits. They should remain hidden from the enemy the same way the X90S manages to do so."

  "Stealth suits? You're kidding, right?"

  "No, Briggs. Our soldiers should be able to plant the explosives without hassle. The only issue is the bombs themselves. As soon as they come out of the suits, they'll possibly trigger an alarm if the Zeal detect them."

  "Okay. Say we set off one of these alarms. Then what?"

  "We fly the hell out of there," Murphy interrupted. "You two will need to show me what you got and get us out in one piece."

  Porter shook his head. It was so easy for people like Garcia and Murphy just to say whatever they wanted to and expect it to happen.

  "Do we have an understanding, Porter?" Garcia asked, getting closer to his face.

  Glancing from Briggs to Garcia, Porter knew he didn't have an option, so he nodded.

  "Excellent. If that's the case, then I will ask you two to suit up while Captain Murphy and I discuss the mission further. We launch from Deck C in forty-nine minutes. Dismissed."

  Briggs stood first as Porter lingered behind wanting to say something else. He held his tongue for the moment and followed his wingman out the door. Once they cleared the control room, Briggs spoke.

  "What the hell kind of plan is that?"

  "One that will get us killed if we don't execute it to perfection."

  Briggs shook his head. "Great."

  "That's not what bothers me, man. It's the constant stream of secrets Garcia occasionally grants us. I mean, here we are on the brink of destruction and Command is still hiding tactics from us. What more do we need to do to work together? Makes me question how much news from the front is delivered home to Mars."

  "I don't want to know ... Hey, do you think the Zeal are this stupid? Do you think they keep secrets from each other?"

  "Doubt it. They seem to function as one brain instead of a thousand minds vying for top position."

  Briggs laughed to himself. "I guess we should take the good with the bad. It's not like we can just switch sides
."

  "No, I know. But some days it feels like the better option."

  The two arrived on Deck C and found the pair of X90S Stalkers ready to go. Porter's ship had the package unit attached. They headed over to suit up for the mission and saw the group of Marines that would be sitting inside Porter's X90S.

  The Marines had their spacesuits on, accompanied by the latest in exoskeleton powered armor. The bulky outfits wrapped a lightweight steel alloy compound around their arms, body, and legs to give the wearer extended capabilities.

  "Damn. That is some seriously bad-ass tech. Where were these guys when the ship got boarded?"

  Porter stared at the Marines, seeing how they psyched each other up before the big show. Some were shouting motivational phrases out to one another, while a few of them only slapped each other on the back. Only one or two opted for some quiet alone time.

  "Captain Porter," said one of the Marines from across the room.

  Porter turned on the spot as a female soldier not much older than the MAF recruitment age headed toward him.

  "How can I help you, Sergeant?" Porter asked, seeing her rank.

  "I was hoping to have a quick word. My name is Sergeant Rickson." She extended her hand.

  Porter quickly returned the gesture. "Let's head over here," he said, motioning behind one of the Stalkers. The pair parted ways from Briggs and settled in behind an X90S away from the Marines.

  "What can I do for you, Rickson?"

  "I'll keep this brief. I understand you've been inside one of these Zeal carriers. What's it like?"

  He could see the glee and excitement in her eyes. She seemed a little too keen to be boarding a spaceship full of dangerous aliens, so Porter felt the need to set her straight.

  "Like staring into a sea of scorpions. These things don't mess around. If you and your team are discovered, we're all dead." Porter walked away before the Sergeant had a chance to say anything else. He headed over to the storage area where the pilots all suited up and didn't say another word until the mission launched.