by J. A. Scorch
Chapter Three
Lieutenant Bradley Porter stared out of the observation deck of the MBC Andromeda to the lone Zeal Cyclone carrier circling Earth. The view came from a concealed camera stationed outside of the ship, safely beamed to the screen in front of him to create the illusion.
Just two short weeks ago, he had survived nuking one of the sister ships to the alien craft from the inside, barely escaping the blast radius as his X90S Stalker stealth ship barreled away from the chaos. The Cyclone's other sibling fell victim to the same fate at the sacrifice of Lieutenant Alex Rivera when she detonated her nuke inside the carrier.
Of the three elite stealth pilots sent out to destroy the three behemoths, Porter was the only one who managed to survive the day along with a decent number of his support fighters who braved the mission. The third stealth ship, piloted by Lieutenant Fellows, never made it inside the alien ship, leaving the one Zeal carrier still orbiting Earth, waiting for Command to determine its fate. The last Porter heard from his commanding officer, Commodore Deborah Garcia, was that the higher-ups wanted to capture the craft intact for the valuable intelligence the ship would contain within its solid walls.
"What a waste, huh?" Lieutenant Andre Briggs said, grabbing Porter's shoulder. "We could have wasted that beast on the way back home. Fellows screwed the mission."
"He didn't stand a chance," Porter said to his wingman. "His X90S failed." Porter turned around, taking his eyes off the Cyclone. "His pilots all died trying to form a blockade around him. He messed up. He should have just recalled his fighters home and went down like a real pilot. The bastard had to take everyone with him."
Briggs shook his head. "It happens, I guess. Most people don't know how they'd react given the same circumstances."
Drifting back to the vital mission, Porter thought about how he pressed the detonation button on the nuke strapped to his ship, knowing full well it was going to kill him but complete the job. Fate let him survive the day and carry on, but no one else realized how close to death he came.
"Have you heard anything from Command?" Porter asked.
Briggs shook his head while biting his lips. "No, man. Not a thing. No one wants to commit to a strategy to take that carrier on without sneaking a ship inside. We'll see a lot more dead pilots at this rate. But anyway, that's not why I'm here." Briggs scratched his head.
Porter scrunched up his brows and crossed his arms. "What's up? You look like you've got something to share."
"It's about Earth. During the fifteen minutes when the Zeal network was down, a lot of shit happened. The UEF went crazy around the globe, throwing whoever they had on the field at the Zeal. Of course, it wasn't enough time to make a dent in the aliens’ defenses, but apparently, something useful came out of it all."
Porter thought about the significance of the two Cyclones blowing up. Their connection with the thousands of ground Zeal bases interrupted something beyond simple communication. It was as if destroying the carriers caused the stations to shut down temporarily.
"What happened?"
"The UEF has been able to re-establish communications with us, beaming signals directly to the fleet. I was going over the list of Earth bases we can now talk you, and guess what?"
"What? Tell me."
"I found him, your brother."
"Teve?" Porter asked uncrossing his arms.
"Yeah. He's attached to some base outside of Los Angeles."
"And he's alive?"
"I think so," Briggs nodded, smiling away. His entire family was on Mars, safe and sound. He knew all along that Porter was alone out here.
"The bastard's still going. I'll be damned."
"He's been battling the Zeal on the front. The list was updated three weeks ago, but given the fact that he's survived this long I'm willing to bet he's still fighting strong."
Porter felt himself lean back into the false window. Everyone else in his family was on his parents' farm on Earth. Teve being alive was always a possibility, one he never let himself believe. His younger brother had survived down in the trenches, somehow beating the odds over and over. Porter’s mind floated back to the nuke. As he was about to hit the detonator, Teve entered his thoughts and held up his decision long enough to save his life.
"Briggs," Porter muttered. "This is good news for once."
"Yeah. About time."
"I don't know what else to say except thank you."
"Don't mention it. It was a long shot when I checked the data. I never expected to find him, but there he was."
Falling silent, Porter couldn't help but smile. The recent weeks had taken their toll, pushing him to his limits on more than one occasion. He threw his arm around Briggs and started to walk away from the window. "Long shots are our specialty. I guess all we need to do now is find a way to take over the Zeal carrier and fight our way down to Earth."
"All in a day's work, man. How about we head to training and get a few hours in before Command decides what to do with our friends out there." Briggs pointed toward the Cyclone. The slow, oversized rotating vessel hung above Earth, once joined by two other alien invaders to form the Zeal fleet. If the Mars Armed Forces could manage to capture the carrier without destroying the massive ship, then the experts among the MAF could get to work deciphering the aliens' reasoning for seizing control of the blue planet.
"Sounds like a plan," Porter said as he let go of Briggs and followed him down the hall.
After walking to Deck C and suiting up for flight, the pair sat in their single-seat fighters nicknamed Stalkers. The quick maneuver birds were the best thing the MAF had to deal with the Zeal carrier's interceptors known as Tritons. The three-pronged craft numbered in the thousands, billowing from the alien vessel like a swarm of bees whenever the ship was provoked.
Loaded into the mass driver slingshot system of the Andromeda, both pilots waited to be launched into space in the blink of an eye. The pair shot out the side of the carrier a few minutes later and began training for the next big mission that would once again push them to the edge.
Porter stared through the cockpit of his X90 Stalker past the Zeal Cyclone to Earth. He gazed down at the sliver of ground that belonged to North America and wondered how his brother had survived for so long on the damaged rock. Countless Zeal bases covered the planet, spreading across the land like an unstoppable virus. Even if humanity took control of the final Cyclone, the UEF and MAF would have a huge job on their hands trying to reclaim the fallen cities.
"Sosa. This is Caesar." Briggs radioed, addressing Porter by his call sign. "You awake in there? Over."
"Caesar. Affirmative. Over." Porter tipped his wing to Briggs, showing him he was alive and well.
"Time to go to work."
Porter smiled as Briggs pulled a quick burn to push his Stalker out past his own, flipping over in the process. The Cyclone sat approximately 1000 klicks away, waiting for the fleet of nine Martian battle carriers to make a move.
No one had seen the slightest bit of activity since the other two carriers were destroyed. Porter only hoped the lack of action was a good sign and not the prelude to something far worse.
Chapter Four
Teve stared up at Doctor Hoang's face, wanting more than anything to spit at the man one last time before death ended his two weeks in hell. But something about the doctor's mood seemed to stop his natural desires to piss him off.
"Your cooperation is greatly appreciated," Hoang said. "We have much to discuss today, so I am grateful you are showing this much compliance."
"Let's just get this over," Teve said. "Anytime you want to kill me is fine with me."
"Who said anything about killing you? I have no desire to destroy the man who has shown me such potential."
Rotating his head away from the doctor's eyes, Teve let out a sigh. "I'll believe that when I see it. We've never been in this room. You're either going to kill me or shove a spike into my brain and make me a more manageable soldier. I would prefer to be dead if I have the choic
e."
Hoang chuckled under his breath as he attempted to adjust his small, round glasses sitting inside his suit. "Not today, I'm afraid. Instead, I am going to ask you a series of questions with the aid of my little friends here."
The doctor motioned to a table full of syringes and vials.
"What the hell is all that?" Teve asked.
"Something to loosen your lips a little and ease the tension."
"Sounds like some sort of truth serum bullshit."
Stopping in his movements, Hoang faced his patient. "What kind of moron do you take me for? No, this is a substance to help quiet your mind and calm your spirit. I want our chat to be organic and free flowing."
Teve stared back at the doctor, screwing up his brows. "You sound like a goddamn lunatic. How about we talk without the happy juice over there."
"I wish it were that simple, but frankly, over the last two weeks you've been nothing but a pain in my side. I don't have time to waste given recent events in the war."
The war. Teve had almost forgotten about it. The last fortnight felt like years. Every single day, he spent twelve hours being poked and prodded into doing whatever the doctor wanted. Failure to comply always resulted in physical punishment at the hands of a cattle prod some guard wielded without a second thought. What he'd give to wrap his hands around one of those magic wands.
"This won't hurt a bit." Hoang picked up the first syringe. He plunged the needle into a vial and filled it up, pushing out the air bubbles until it was ready. He shoved the sharp instrument into Teve's bicep without much care and emptied its contents in seconds.
A sting coursed its way through Teve's core, sending a shudder down through his spine and back up again. "What the hell was that?"
"My apologies," Hoang said. "The substance can be rather jarring, but the results speak for themselves, I assure you."
"Results?" Teve uttered, half-slurring his words. "You think I give a shit about your results? Screw you, Doctor. If my hands were free, I'd jam that needle slowly across your neck."
Hoang smiled, indifferent to the threat on his life. "Interesting," he said.
"Interesting? What are you on about?" Teve asked. Before he could summon up his next string of words, something within his mind broke. The room became a purple haze as he drifted back in time, back to when the Zeal had him in their grasp, back to—
"No, not there," Teve said as he visualized the man he never wanted to see again. He only knew him as X, but there he was covered in blades that stabbed through his skin, smiling his demonic grin through an array of deadly razors until he spoke.
"Stop it," Teve yelled, shaking off the thought of the Zeal. He found himself back in the room with the doctor. "What was that?"
"I lied to you. That wasn't something to loosen you up and make you relax. It was designed to reveal the real potential you possess. Unfortunately, the compound increases in strength with each syringe administered. The first was merely a taste of what's to come."
"Please tell me you're joking."
"This is no joke. This will all become quite clear with time. Try to relax."
"You're insane. How did they let you in here and give you permission to do this?"
"War, Teve. It allows all kinds of realities. Three years ago, I would've been deemed a monster. Now, I'm a necessary function of our very survival, as are you. But it doesn't have to be a struggle. If you can answer my questions, you won't need to go through that again. And trust me when I say it only gets worse from here."
Teve's eyes darted around the room, searching for an explanation, seeking the truth. He didn't know what to believe anymore, so he turned back to the doctor and complied. "Okay, I'll talk."
"Good. Let's begin, shall we?" Hoang pulled up an e-slate and tapped away at the device for a few moments before looking into Teve's eyes again. "First thing's first. I would like to discuss your past. We'll start with some general information and then move on to what's important. I don't have much time to waste, so we will be moving at a fast pace."
"Just ask your damn questions while I'm still able to think straight. That needle gave me a huge migraine, thank you."
"The side effects will wear off given enough time. But I can also promise you that with each heightened level of the substance, the consequences only get worse. Now, question one."
Hoang didn't give Teve any time to think about what those outcomes might entail. Instead, the first question came at him out of the gate.
"Who are you?"
"What? You know who I am. What kind of stupid question is that?"
"Answer it, or I can offer you an alternative." Hoang reached over to the next needle.
"Fine. My name is Sergeant Teve Porter of the United Earth Forces."
"Not your name. Not your role, either. I want to understand, in your words, who you are."
Teve had no idea what to say. The philosophical question came out of nowhere, throwing him off balance with ease.
"I'm nobody. I'm just a man who was forced into war by an invading alien army. What more can I say?"
"Tell me about the start of the war."
"Well, what's there to say? I was in the army. I joined up with my friend, Mish. A year later the aliens came and attacked the planet. We had to fight. We saw a lot of people die."
Hoang nodded as he gazed into Teve’s eyes, studying them with intent. "Tell me then, what did you do before the army? Where were you one year before the first attack?"
Teve smiled. "Well, that's simple. I—" He paused as his mind drew a blank. "I don't remember. I can recall the city standing. Then the Zeal attacked. Nothing before then. It's all missing."
"It would appear you are worse than I anticipated." Hoang stretched out to another needle.
"Wait, what are you doing?" Teve jumped up as much as he could. "I tried to answer you. I'm telling the truth; I don't remember."
The doctor shoved the syringe into the second vial, filling it all the way up. "I know you are. Regrettably, the Zeal virus is blocking your long-term memory to access any moment before their arrival. The only thing that will bring out your memories is this compound." He held the needle up to Teve's neck instead of his bicep. "Please know that I don't take any pleasure in doing this." The syringe jabbed into Teve's throat a second later and flooded his veins with the stronger dose of the compound.
His eyes flickered as he passed out.
Chapter Five
After three hours of flight, Porter received a call from Commodore Garcia, instructing him to land for an emergency meeting. The decision to take on the last Cyclone had to be the topic of the impromptu assembly. If not, something dire would be at hand for the fleet, no doubt.
Porter radioed Briggs and told him to keep flying, but his wingman decided to return to the Andromeda and make some adjustments to his Stalker.
"I'll catch up with you later," Briggs said as he flew ahead.
"Roger that," Porter said. He slowed up his non-stealth fighter X90 Stalker and dropped down toward Deck C, pulling into the low-gravity open space for a textbook landing. His skids slid along the magnetic level, gradually gripping on tighter as the electromagnetic surface increased in power. His ship hooked into the nearest elevator and got shuffled up and through to the unloading deck above, receiving the full benefit of the ship's electrodynamic gravity generators.
Garcia greeted him as he exited the Stalker, only adding more of a knot to his stomach. The commodore only ever welcomed anyone like this when something bad was on the cards.
Porter disconnected himself from the X90 and released his helmet from his flight suit. Sweat poured from his forehead and dripped down the uniform, covering some of its readouts with the salty liquid.
"Why the personal touch?" he asked his commanding officer. They shared a shaky past, having both been thrown into the stresses of snap decisions by Command trying to combat the Zeal in a rush. Now, the two seemed to share common ground, opting to work together to fight the real enemy.
"Not m
uch time to explain, but I'll do my best. Follow me."
"That bad, huh?"
"Worse than we thought," Garcia added. She moved ahead, forcing him to keep up her pace while dealing with the weight of his flight suit. Whatever her concern was, it had penetrated down to his core and left a mark. He hadn't seen her this rattled since he declined her offer to be her second and help command the fleet back when they aspired to an all-out assault on the three Cyclones. The decision turned out to be the best he haphazardly made considering the plan would have ended in a lot more dead pilots than the nuclear option Command opted for.
"What's going on, Garcia? You have to give me something here. I'm dying."
"Almost there," she said, leading him up into the control room attached to Deck C she had acquired. The lights were off in the room. He was half expecting to find a dead body in there. Perhaps one of the generals or someone important enough for Garcia to stress about.
"Surprise," yelled a group of people as the lighting burst into action. Porter jumped back as Briggs, Cannon, and a few of their cadets all attempted to give him a heart attack. Even Garcia shouted out at him, joining in on the fun despite the pressure it must have placed on her prosthetic leg to make the extra trip.
"You bastards. I thought the ship was about to explode. What the hell is all this?"
Cannon stepped forward with a smile. Captain Nicole Cannon was Porter's friend to most. But to a select few she was also the only woman on board he truly cared about. The two currently had a casual relationship that Porter hoped to expand into something more meaningful.
"We thought some congratulations were in order."
"For what?"
Garcia stood at the back of the group with her arms folded. "For taking out that damn Cyclone without losing your head."
Porter stepped back, not wanting to think about the mission that should have killed him. "It wasn't just me. We all took part in that hell of an op."
"That may be, but only one of us can be promoted to captain."