Reclaim: Books 1-3

by J. A. Scorch

  "Kiss my ass. You're all under her spell, aren't you?"

  "Stop it, Porter," Nicole said, "You're only making things worse. We don't know what happened down here. There's no point going crazy while we work this out."

  He stared into her eyes after taking his laser focus off Garcia. One look into her soul told him to simmer down. "Okay, I'm sorry. Let's work this out. I still think she's responsible for this," he said pointing to Garcia.

  The commodore scoffed as she moved closer to Porter. "I'm not a monster, Captain."

  "Just admit what you did," Porter said.

  Garcia held his stare. She could have arrested him ten times over now and shot him on the spot given his behavior. Instead, she glanced down to Teve on the floor and switched her focus to the alien device. "I think I know what happened here."

  "You do?" Nicole asked.

  Garcia nodded. "I guess this is somewhat my fault. I left the room without securing the device. He must have used it on himself and overwhelmed his senses." She picked up the unit and studied it with a furrowed brow. "What? Oh, no. He hasn't?"

  "What is it?" Porter asked.

  Turning to him, Garcia tossed the unit at his chest. He caught it with one hand.

  "Just as I thought," she said. "Your brother fried the damn thing. He's overloaded the system and severed the one connection we had to the Zeal network."

  "Oh, shit," Nicole muttered. More comments came from the guards.

  Porter didn't say a word until Garcia looked back in his direction. "You left him in here by himself with this thing. This is as much your fault as it is his."

  "You don't understand," Garcia said. "We had just discovered that the Zeal were splintering into two attack forces. I had to run the new problem up the line so a decision could be made about our fleet."

  "Wait," Porter said as he pieced together Garcia's words. "Is that why we are decelerating and heading back to Mars?"

  "Yes. Command wants the defense of Mars to take priority. Unfortunately, that means Earth will be vulnerable to attack."

  Porter felt the air deflate out of his chest as his heart skipped a beat. "They'll be destroyed. The Zeal will finally finish the job." The words fell out of him as he dropped back from the commodore. "How could you agree to this?"

  "We don't have a choice, Captain. We don't have the numbers on our side to divide the fleet."

  Wanting more than anything to argue against the commodore's oversimplification of the fate of humanity, Porter had nothing constructive to say. He instead let his head drop down to his chest.

  "It's okay," Nicole said. "If we can stop the Zeal at Mars, maybe we can retake Earth."

  He shook his head as he scoffed louder than he wanted to. "We'll be crippled taking on half of their fleet as it is. There won't be enough of us left to take back Earth let alone the rest of the Zeal forces. It's hopeless. We're—"

  "Stop it," Nicole shouted. "You're better than this, Porter. We all know how tough this will be. We don't need people making it worse by pointing out the obvious."

  Porter found himself stepping back from his girlfriend. "I'm sorry, again. I can't seem to get my head straight ever since I stepped foot on the Andromeda. And as soon as I saw Teve like this, I lost it." He glanced past Nicole to Garcia. "I'm sorry, Commodore. I didn't mean to blame you. I guess I wasn't thinking."

  Garcia said nothing and gave him her steely glare in return. After a few blink-free moments she walked over to Teve, keeping her eyes on Porter. "You're lucky we need every pilot in the air. Consider my forgiveness as the last favor I'll ever do for you." The two guards took the commodore's comment as an order to stand down. They lowered their rifles but kept them loose.

  Porter didn't respond. He was one remark away from sending Garcia over the edge. He watched as she leaned down and checked on his brother. Teve was unresponsive to her poking and prodding, yet his breathing was now steady and audible as if he were having a deep sleep.

  "What is it with you two, huh?" Garcia asked.

  "They're stubborn," Nicole said. Porter figured she was trying to keep things light and prevent further outrage from the stressed-out officer.

  "I guess I can relate," Garcia replied. "I come from a long line of control freaks. It's one of the reasons I've climbed the ladder so well. But stubbornness aside, orders are orders. We are on the edge of the biggest fight of our short lives. We have to stand as one if we are going to—"

  The control room's alarm blared out loud, drowning out Garcia's lecture. Every tablet in the area lit up and beeped for attention as the ship shook violently to decelerate even harder than before.

  "Bridge, this is Garcia. What the hell just happened?"

  "Garcia, this is the Bridge. The Zeal fleet just disappeared off every sensor we have trained on them. We have been given orders from up top to perform an emergency deceleration and punch it back to Mars."

  "Understood. Garcia out." She didn't waste another second as she rushed toward the exit. She ushered Nicole along with a sharp gesture as she jumped on her comm again. Porter listened to her priority combat announcement.

  "I want all squadron leaders on standby. Double up the number of alert fighters into the tubes. The Zeal could drop in on top of us at any moment."

  "How is that possible?" Porter asked.

  Garcia faced him with a furrowed brow. Nicole answered for her.

  "We believe the carriers might be capable of making short-range jumps across minor expanses of space. If they’ve fallen off the grid, then it could mean the new fleet is about to cut days off their journey to Mars."

  Porter shook his head as another Command secret was given to him. "Why didn’t you tell me? And more importantly, why were we heading out to the belt if we knew this?"

  Nicole waved him off. "I don’t know. The higher-ups wanted to draw them away from Mars no matter what." The two stared at one another as the alarms continued to blaze.

  "Jesus. Just go," Porter said, tiring of the conversation. He gave Nicole a quick goodbye as she scrambled herself toward the commodore.

  "Take your brother to the infirmary," Garcia yelled without stopping. "Once you have him settled, move your ass down to Deck C, Porter."

  "Yes, ma'am," he fired off without thinking. He took a moment to collect his thoughts and focus on Teve. Before he knew it, he was carrying him down the corridor with the help of one of the guards. They found the infirmary after a long trip back up to Level C and got Teve settled on one of the hospital beds the Andromeda housed. The unit hadn't seen a single case for months beyond routine check-ups and minor injuries. Porter explained as much as he could to the doctor on duty. He finished by telling the young woman that Teve had nanites and that there was little she could do to help other than to monitor his vitals.

  Once he left his brother behind in a rush, Porter noticed the ship had almost completed its deceleration, forcing the gravity dampeners to work overtime to stop everyone on board from being flung hard toward the bow of the ship. In a few minutes, the battle carrier would be accelerating back to Mars at full burn while the crew prepared for the worst.

  He found Deck C after a short sprint and ran into one of his former students, Cadet Sergeant Smith. Porter almost knocked the young kid to the floor as he recovered from a stumble. When he glanced around the area, he saw nothing but chaos filling the flight deck.

  "Smith, report."

  "Sir. Good to see you. Priority orders just came screaming down from the top. Half of us were off duty. Now they've pulled every single squadron into line ready for launch. I don't get it, though. I thought the Zeal were days away."

  "So did I. Something has got them all spooked. Apparently, the alien fleet has gone off the grid. It's possible they are going to drop in on top of us instead of taking the long way."

  "Jesus," Smith said.

  "Exactly. Now move it into gear and organize some of these morons before I kick everyone's ass."

  Smith jumped up on the spot a little. "Yes, sir." He charged off and b
egan yelling at anyone below his rank to get some order restored. Porter added his voice to the mix, demanding the confused deck hands and pilots pull their shit together.

  "You are about to face the Zeal, not some training simulation you've been dicking around with for the last year. I want all flight leaders to slap themselves awake and kick your pilots into gear." He continued to rant and rave until everyone had been scared into a bird.

  Satisfied with half a smile on his face, Porter headed for the crew chief and asked for a fighter of his own to fly.

  "We've only got reserves left, sir. They need to be reconfigured first."

  "Make it happen. I want every reserve Stalker space worthy. We are going to need as many sticks in the air as possible."

  "Yes, sir," the crew chief said as his hands shook. Porter could see the forty-something man coming face to face with his worst nightmare as he started to scratch his head and fumble with his tablet.

  As Porter traveled to the attached storage compartment to slap on a combat-ready flight suit, he was surprised to see Nicole running toward him.

  "Porter. Take this," she said as she crossed the gap to meet him. She handed him an in-ear comm system that would fit into his helmet and give him shortcut access to radio her and Garcia without going through the gatekeeper protocols all pilots faced.

  "And don't even think about using one of those regular Stalkers. Garcia has something better in mind."

  Chapter Fifty-Nine

  "What is happening now?" Sergeant Pérez asked another soldier as they brushed past him. He grabbed hold of the next person to move down the busy corridor and asked the same question.

  "Fleet's turning around and booking it to Mars," the corporal said. "The Zeal have jumped off sensor. We’re getting ready to fight."

  Pérez shook his head. He was still getting used to the giant aliens he encountered in space being called the Zeal. The name was nothing short of a cute bit of nonsense, in his mind.

  "Hey, let go of me, Sergeant," the corporal said as he broke free from Pérez.

  "Wait, where are you going?"

  The corporal didn't stop and shouted over his shoulder. "To suit up. The fight is coming to us."

  Pérez let out a breath as he watched the young soldier disappear into the split in the junction. "Goddamn this bullshit," he yelled to no one. He had barely awoken from four years of sleep after surviving the Zeal in close quarters. Now he would be doing the same thing again without a choice in the matter.

  Before he could change his mind and hide in some remote part of the battle carrier, he headed down the corridor and followed the next soldier he saw all the way to an armory. Dozens of soldiers were all gearing up into full battle rattle to face the pending aggressors head on.

  "Dumb bastards," Pérez said out loud. "You've got no idea what you're about to face."

  "Sergeant Pérez?" asked a voice behind him. He turned around to face a hulking captain wearing an armored space suit with a nameplate that read Murphy.

  "Yes, sir?"

  The captain gave the sergeant a quick sweep up and down to size him up. "So, you're the guy that survived the first wave of Zeal? Not much to you, is there?"

  As Pérez came close to telling the captain to screw himself, Murphy slapped him on the shoulder with one of his gauntlets. "Just yanking your chain, Sergeant. The name's Captain Murphy. I think you should come with me. You don't belong here with these weekend warriors. Got a special place for the more experienced enlisted such as yourself."

  Pérez dropped his head and muttered expletives to himself before firing off an acknowledgment.

  "Watch that mouth of yours, Pérez. I know you've been in the tank for a long time, but you're still an MAF Marine."

  "Sorry, sir. Just re-adapting to everything. Are you sure I'm not suited to stay with these guys? I don't even know if I can still fight."

  Murphy was already heading away from the armory toward the next section. "Fighting the Zeal isn't just about your skill with a rifle, it's also about thinking outside the square and doing what it takes to survive."

  Pérez drifted away from the conversation as he remembered the way he survived the Zeal. He left his people behind to die when he saw the aliens had them all beat. He thought about that moment every hour he'd been conscious. He swore that the memory even haunted his dreams when he was in the stasis pod.

  "Where are you taking me, sir?" he asked as he caught up to Murphy.

  "To get you suited into space armor. I want you fighting with the SF soldiers we have attached to the ship. Frankly, your knowledge of the Zeal coupled with their ability to kick ass will be an excellent combination we sorely need."

  "Okay, sir," Pérez said on autopilot. He'd heard all about the poor Earth soldiers who had been infected by the aliens and consequently turned into super soldiers. Rumor had it that they were all slowly dying from the nanites in their system. The thought made his gut twist and rumble.

  "Don't let their appearances bother you. They're no different than you or me—with the exception that they could snap our necks like a twig, of course."

  Pérez gave the captain a weak smile as the officer probed for a response.

  The pair crossed through a bulkhead and arrived into a smaller armory with fewer grunts around. The eyes of the Special Forces soldiers from Earth spotted the odd man out as soon as he entered the room.

  "Time to get suited up into one of these space suits. These things are the latest and greatest from Mars HQ. Fresh off the line with full armor and exoskeleton power. Not that these guys need it." Murphy slapped one of the SF troops on the back with his thick, armored glove. The soldier didn't budge an inch.

  "Are you sure about this, Captain?"

  "You'll be fine, Pérez. Just keep your head down and provide your team with intelligence. These guys will do the fighting. Think of them as your guardian angels." Murphy laughed as he left the room and Pérez behind to face a dozen pairs of eyes at once. None of them seemed to be too interested in being his babysitter for the biggest mission of their dwindling lives. He couldn't blame them for not wanting to take up the task.

  One of the gruffer-looking soldiers with the nameplate Oliver gave Pérez a sideways glance before he shouted to another man toward the back of the group. "Hey, Larkin. Got a job for you."

  A short, balding soldier poked his head out of the group in response. A frown etched its way across his face as he moved toward Pérez. "Come on, Sergeant," he said.

  "No arguments. This guy, Sergeant Pérez, will be attached to you at the hip at all times. Understand?"

  "Yes, Master Sergeant," he mumbled to Oliver. He faced Pérez again and said, "Come on then. Let's get you suited up for this shit."

  "That's Sergeant Pérez, Corporal Larkin," Pérez said having already taken in the man's rank.

  "Whatever, Sergeant."

  "Larkin, cut the shit," Oliver yelled. "This man has survived the Zeal without nanites just like all of you here before we got infected. Give him some respect. Now fall in and get the sergeant suited up before I toss you out an airlock."

  Larkin didn't hide his anger. "Yes, Master Sergeant." He then stared back at Pérez for a moment too long before directing him on. "This way, please, Sergeant." The sarcasm fell out of Larkin's mouth quite naturally. Pérez let it go for now.

  After ten minutes of adjustments, he was suited up in the latest armored space suit the MAF had on hand. It made his old space suit seem outdated and weak. Larkin filled him in on the improvements.

  "You've got a new armor-piercing resistant compound layered over the old armor and woven into the new exoskeleton hydraulics. The air supply is twice as long, and the inbuilt HUD can give you all kinds of bullshit data we could have used on Earth. Maybe then I wouldn't be the only soldier left alive from my original company."

  Pérez knew the feeling. He watched his entire squad—people he had bled with—all die in less than thirty seconds. The incident might have happened over four years ago to everyone else, but to a sol
dier who spent most of that time in a stasis pod, they only died a few days ago.

  Larkin rambled on about the suit and the MAF's failure to help Earth in their hour of need until someone told him to shut up.

  Pérez filtered out the noise as he flicked through the suit's display to customize its settings. The faces of the men and women he failed stared back through the reflective layer of the suit's visor as he promised them all then and there that he would not go down without a fight.

  Chapter Sixty

  Porter stared at one of the Andromeda's two X90S Stalker stealth fighters. The modified ship could essentially run dark on all sensors, Zeal or human, and get a pilot into places no other vessel could. The MAF used the stealth ship to success to bring down the Zeal fleet, one ship at a time, by gaining access to the inside of the alien carriers. Porter had dropped a nuke within the first carrier the MAF ever defeated at the cost of many pilots’ lives who coaxed the Zeal into a fight to open their secured hanger bays.

  "This isn't fair to the other pilots," Porter said. He knew a regular X90 Stalker was a sure way to find death compared its stealth variant.

  "War isn't about fairness," Nicole said, sounding more and more like the commodore each day. "The Zeal never asked us what was fair when they first slaughtered our people on Earth. Hell, I don't have to tell you what it was like at the beginning. This ship saw a decent number of pilots die that day."

  Porter's mind drifted to the first moment the Zeal hit the MAF fleet head on. The Andromeda was out on patrol, keeping frosty for the potential threat posed by the now non-existent Sino-Russian pact that always threatened Mars' independence from Earth. Some of the powerful nations of the old world did not agree that the colony of Mars should exist with such unification, so the MAF was on constant alert for the inevitable war the various powers had spent the last decade preparing for. Little did the MAF know that the demand for military spending would be the very thing to save them from instant annihilation.

  A lone Cyclone hit the battle carriers first before heading toward Mars. It was a joint counter-attack upon the single Zeal carrier that made the aliens think twice about taking the colony. The original alien fleet backed away from Mars and headed for a divided Earth to punch through their scattered defenses with ease.