Chapter 7: The Ghosts of The Past Part 1

15 Months Ago...

The great, endless Blue Ridge Mountains of eastern North America stood as a triumph of nature, even against the horrific elements that posed against it. Through the ever-present haze of dust and dirt that hovered in the air, the darkening clouds that stood over them resided in one of Earth’s greatest strongholds ever created by mankind.

Even now, as we fly through the air to close in on it, countless lights can be seen all across the elevated cliff sides. Occasional transports and shuttles fly through the atmosphere to come in to land on the artificial landing strips. Many of these strips are closed in to help prevent the constant toxic air from seeping into its depths. The tops of these mountains consist of massive, heavily reinforced dome structures so thick in alloys that no earthquake could ever shake its roots. Multiple weapon batteries reside throughout the landscape. A few roads and interconnected sealed subway tunnels can be seen poking through the sides, like snakes trying to carve into the rock itself.

It is here that the former United States had created its last bastion against all hell on Earth. The great Waterville, DC, became the ultimate city in construction and engineering that would rival many of the great dome cities around the world. Some argued that producing it was impossible, yet desperation called for extreme measures. Its early design phase began almost after the US reunification of the USSA and the URA, although it would take another ten years for construction to ever start. Many argued that its construction was never complete as the project was designed to be expanded almost indefinitely.

The sole purpose was to serve as a defense against everything. Fears of ever-rising sea levels prompted the desire to be on the highest elevated platforms that Mother Nature could devise. Heavy alloys were in place in fear of nuclear bombardment. Early self-sufficient facilities ensured that everything was available for its inhabitants. The name Waterville would be adopted, but it would not gain the name of DC until 2098 when the United States Government joined in on the project. What was designed for the rich would become one of the greatest refuge metropolises to be ever made. Ultimately, it became the United States’s new capital long after the demise of former Washington DC. Its triumph stood as a testament to the United States’ desire to remain in power as they constructed spaceships and launched them into the vestiges of space.

Even long after its faded glory, Waterville, DC, remains the economic powerhouse and heart of North America. Millions live in its great depths, safe from the ravages of the orange muck. Many of its countless crowded homes now lay bare while humanity expands into the cosmos.

Of course, such stories are for another time. We zoom in on one large landing strip. The facility partially juts out of the mountainside, with a portion sticking out just enough for shuttles.

Upon reaching the vast closed hangar facility, hundreds of personnel, mostly men, stood in formation. Many of the individuals were in their late 30s to early 50s, the men hardened by the brutal nature of the environment. Their clothes consisted of mostly partial protective suits, with their helmets and headcovers held to their right side. On their backs consisted of bookbags, duffle bags, and belongings.

Among one of the many personnel was Greg, standing near the front. He had been watching a man near his age facing in front of him and the others. The individual was dressed in a tan and green camouflage military uniform carrying the rank of Colonel. He had a partially dark mixed complexion and a grizzled face, with his left artificial skeletal hand carrying a tablet. Greg already knew this individual as an old acquaintance. The name of Dontrell could be seen on the name tag of his uniform.

“Everyone!” Dontrell called out. “Attention!”

The formation all came to attention. All silence registered in the hangar as Dontrell waited. Once he saw that everyone was focused on him, he nodded his head.

“At ease,” he told them. “You don’t have to keep holding your bags up. Our lead NCO still won’t be here for another few minutes.”

Greg sighed and placed his bag down. He could see that the deck consisted of a few hard rocks and stones that covered parts of the smooth blue floor. The man momentarily looked up, noting that the rocks most likely came from above and fell into the hangar every time the ceiling doors opened to let the shuttles in or out. He stood relaxed while the other men followed suit.

“Alright,” Dontrell explained. “I wanted to thank everyone for volunteering for the EDFR. I know that each and every one of you comes from all walks of life and from every military service that Earth provides. Some of you are former army, retired, experienced, and ready to fight. The Earth Defense Force Reserve might be looked at as an unglorified service, but know that everyone contributes as a whole. Our motto, as our ancestors once called the Seabees, is ‘Never Insult an EDFR. He just might be your grandfather.’ Your presence here matters, and my goal is to make sure all of you are put to good use.”

“Just ready to make those Itreans regret ever coming to Earth!” one of the volunteer men yelled out.

“That’s the spirit!” Dontrell remarked, pointing in the direction of where the person said it. “I recognize some of those faces out there ... great men and women that I served with. My name is Colonel Dontrell retired from the EDF five years ago. Every month, I process new members to join the EDFR. I’m just like you. I finished serving EDF’s army brigade after 20 years of nonstop service. But, I headed the call. Once EDF, always an EDF.”

“Hoorah!” another man yelled, pumping his fist in the air.

“Whether it’s maintaining the trucks or manning the guns, each and every one of you will have a job. You will be paid well as Waterville promises, given good room and board, better than active EDF, and the best hot meals. Why? Because all of you have served before. We are the last line of defense. When the EDF falls, the EDFR will fight to the end. Earth will never fall.”

“Hoorah!” more men yelled out. Greg was one of them.

“I imagine that many of you will have questions. Feel free to ask me before Major General Hinata arrives.”

“Is the food as good as I hear, sir?” the man standing next to Greg asked.

“Better,” Dontrell responded. “Our cafeterias sit right next to this hangar. The food delivery for Waterville EDF goes through here and hangar 17. We get first choice of what we want before they’re sent into cold storage. It’s so good that everyone, including myself, will hit the gyms every three days just to keep the weight down.” A small amount of laughter broke out amongst the ranks. “I know that finishing up active service might be a godsend to some of us, but I know that retired life does a number on our bellies in the process. We will be responsible in maintaining shape and keeping fit. We will be paid on the hour to exercise. No excuse for us walking around with our fat asses for the active EDF to give us the boot. Hoorah!”

“Hoorah!” the others responded. Dontrell paused as he waited for more questions. Greg noted that a shuttle that had landed in the landing pad behind him had opened its side doors. Sets of working civilians began exiting the craft, which was delivering food crates to be moved further inside the facility.

“Will we be doing dust runs, sir?” a reservist woman asked.

“Are we going to be doing the same thing active EDF does?” Dontrell answered. “Depends. We train with the active every month, but it also depends on what your job is. If you want a desk job, you’ll have it. If you want to be out in those APCs, well ... all you have to do is ask.”

Greg felt a sense of relief to hear about that. He imagined working on the trucks and maintaining them once again. A sense of nostalgia filled his mind. Most likely, many of the other newcomer EDFR personnel will want easy jobs, to serve as pencil pushers, maybe tell the active personnel a good story or two, or to be glorified logistics clerks. But with him, the choice was laid bare. He knew what he wanted. He knew that there was one glaring potential problem, one that everyone felt to some degree.

“What about the T’rintar?” a man beside him asked.

There was a steady silence that broke out, interrupting Greg’s thoughts. It was only a matter of time before the question was going to be asked. It was almost as if the good humor and positive attitudes had taken a direct hit. Even Dontrell seemed to fear this question.

“What about it?” Dontrell asked, raising his voice.

“Earth’s been handed over to the Itreans, Colonel. How’s it going to impact us?”

Dontrell rubbed his augmented thumb across his chin. “We remain as we are. The EDF COC has passed nothing as of yet and told us to remain on standby.”

“What about the EDF? I heard they were going to rebrand us as the Itrean Defense Force.”

Another person jumped into the conversation.

“I heard the Itreans have already been landing and deploying soldiers right here in Waterville,” a man said.

Greg wished that he joined sooner as he thought about it. Without a thought or notion, the UWA just handed over Earth to the T’rintar clan like it was nothing. The alien invaders wouldn’t have to do anything. Instead, humanity would toss Earth away like it was a pile of garbage. Earth remained on high alert. The UHN on Earth were already packing their bags and leaving Waterville’s posts in droves. The great marines had left, and all that was left was the EDF army personnel, the original defenders of Earth. Yet, cautious attitudes were replaced with somewhat hopeful optimism. At least, that was how it appeared. Not everyone shared that thought. The T’rintar had kidnapped the Euterans and apparently used them for experimentation. The other Itrean clans were hostile and only wanted the complete demise of the human race. The media spun clockwise and counterclockwise on every argument and debate. What was left was a people confused and even potentially horrified that an alien race had taken over Earth without a single shot fired. Greg finally jumped in as well.

“I came to join the reserves,” Greg said. “I came to fight.”

“Here, here!” Another man replied to Greg’s response. “I want to serve alongside active service personnel again. Earth needs me.”

“Don’t worry,” Dontrell said, seeing everyone’s reactions. “We got plenty of jobs available. You aren’t the only ones who wish to serve Earth’s defenses. However, I’ll state that as far as we know, Earth, the UWA, and the T’rintar clan have already signed the treaty.”

“And how much did Earth really have a say in that?” Greg asked.

“Enough for us not to get involved in politics, Sergeant First Class.”

Greg nodded his head, knowing that Dontrell recognized him. Greg remained quiet as others felt inclined to offer their thoughts and opinions on the manner. The man could see that a lot of these men and women were eager to serve alongside the army. The wake of comfort and an easy job was replaced with patriotism and devotion to one’s planet and country. Greg at least understood that Dontrell was doing his best not to see everyone get too riled up with the T’rintar clan’s arrival. But he wouldn’t have to do anything further.

Greg and the others noted that the doors ahead opened to reveal two individuals who walked inside. One was an officer, an NCO uniformed individual, most likely a man of Japanese and European ancestry.

The other was something that Greg had never seen before. The anthro-reptilian woman was the first time that he and the many others had ever seen a Yutilian. The alien was dressed in a black suit, almost similar to a tuxedo and tie. The only exception was a set of gold flairs radiating from the outside arm and lower digitigrade leg brims. Her tail consisted of silver-colored feathers that protruded far above her head and tail. She also had light green, scaly skin with dark brown patterns that dotted her frame. Her size put her at only 3/5 of that of the approaching NCO.

“Attention on deck!” Dontrell called out. He came to attention as every reservist followed suit.

All was quiet as the General and the Itrean approached the men and women. Even with their eyes aimed forward, curiosity was getting the best of them. It was the Itrean that seemed to garner looks. Due to the protruding breasts covered by the alien’s clothing, many concluded it was a she. Her hands and fingers were neatly interlocked together as she walked forward.

“At ease,” the NCO called out in a light voice as the two came to a stop. Everyone relaxed their pose while they looked at the hundred personnel. “I’m General Hinata, lead NCO of the EDFR at Waterville. I wanted to thank you for coming here. Standing next to me is Ciu’do’ciu, one of the three representatives sent from the T’rintar clan to oversee Waterville and its transition to the T’rintar clan.”

“Hello ... humanssss,” Ciu’do’ciu said in a dainty light voice. Her accent was thick, causing her s sounds to be extended. Her reptilian eyes and posture would dawdle almost as if she hated standing still.

So these were the Itreans. Greg felt a level of resentment. These were the people that posed a threat to humanity. Yet, they were so small. However, their resources were utterly extensive. He remembered hearing a little bit of the news about the supposed “cure” that humanity had to offer. Everything that was just said made Greg resentful. On the one hand, this Itrean didn’t seem all that threatening, but as he looked upon her, he could feel a sense of apprehension. Others among the reserves looked upon her with curiosity, caution, or disdain. Hinata continued to speak.

“As you know. In the last few weeks, the UWA has relinquished control of Earth to the T’rintar clan. The T’rintar promise to restore Earth’s environment and make sure that all Earth citizens will be made into Itrean citizens in the following year.”

“What?” one of the reservists reacted in surprise. “It can’t be,” another said. “They wouldn’t just do that.”

“We have one year before the relinquishment is complete,” Hinata explained. “The President has given full faith to the T’rintar delegates.”

Greg mumbled under his breath. “Of course, he would do that ... he always bent the knee to the UWA, but this?”

Hinata looked down for a moment, almost seeming to regret what he had to say next. However, he looked back up and spoke with some confidence.

“I have ... received word this morning,” Hinata explained. “That the President and the Earth UN council will fully cooperate with the T’rintar clan’s wishes. The Waterville EDFR will be dissolved within a year. Waterville’s reserve forces will be cut by 80% during the first six months. Then, the rest will be let go. We will only accept 20% of the newcomers today, effective immediately.”

“What!?” many reacted in unison. Greg’s face contorted in anger. Others already showed frustration. It was impossible. Earth was just going to lay down to the Itreans. Many in the crowd were not pleased to hear of the news as some looked at the small Itrean. Ciu’do’ciu remained indifferent. Only her tail twitched while the others protested.

“They’re just going to let us go?” a woman asked.

“This is an outrage!” One of the men yelled out.

“I joined to serve! To fight for my people, and they just give up!?” another yelled.

“Hold it! Hold it! Let the NCO speak!” Dontrell called out. His words were just enough to calm the crowd of angry people momentarily, but just barely. It allowed Hinata to speak.

“Understand that the decision is not mine,” Hinata explained. “I do not believe that all of you should be let go. However, if you are willing to remain here for the next hour or so, we can process the ones that would be willing to serve...”

“You expect us to just stand here and let us serve as token soldiers for the next few months!?” Greg yelled out, interrupting Hinata. “I served for twenty years! I left my home, set aside the time just to be kicked out!”

“Yeah!” Another added. “Earth’s been in danger this whole time. I volunteered in New San Antonio and moved to Waterville for this shit!?”

The crowd was angry. Some of the men seemed rejected. Years of honorable service were denied. Greg was already resentful for waiting this long to serve again, but he never knew that Earth would surrender like this. He felt angry at everything, frustrated at the politicians who went with this without a single care. Ciu’do’ciu stepped forward and addressed the one who had just spoken.

“Then ... you should serve New Saan Tonio,” the Itrean said in her butchered English.

“For what?” the person responded. “Just to be let go again? They were already packed full. I transferred to Waterville because they needed more here.”

“Wassss ... no more,” there were a few clicks in her voice.

Even if English wasn’t her main language, the way she said it was almost pure mockery. The disdain in the crowd of reservists was reaching a boiling point. Greg surmised that with this recent news, there was nothing Hinata could do to placate the crowd. Even Dontrell remained powerless. Did he know about all this before, or was the news brand new to him as well?

However, Dontrell made one last attempt. He walked forward to the crowd of reservists and held his hand up. Amazingly, it worked, but it might have been for the last time. It allowed the Itrean to look up at the humans, where she explained to the best of her abilities.

“My ... people,” she said almost in a sinister tone. “Die from disease ... killsss males. Your people have cure.” The T’rintar walked up to one of the muscle-toned men. Her scaly pointed finger pointed at his covered genitals. “You create new g ... g ... generation of Itreans ... free from disease. Males born again ... humans need to live ... make more Itreans.”

Her words confused some, and even the ones who understood were perplexed. Although the rumors were true that the Itreans were all female, this was not convincing enough for the crowd.

“You expect us to just go home?” the man beside Greg asked. “It took months for me to get processed in. I need money to survive.”

“Then find a mate...,” Ciu’do’ciu said. She kinked her head to the side and looked up at him. “We have money ... make babies ... many Itrean women would take you.”

Greg sneered. “You expect us to just roll over and become breeding stock for your race!?”

“We make your world better ... your fault that you make planet bad ... we fix for you.” She made several clicks in her voice, almost as if she were laughing in some way. Greg pointed at Hinata and Dontrell.

“How do we know these aren’t lies?” Greg asked. “We poured our guts out for Earth, the United States. We learned to survive against everything that’s been thrown at us.”

“The United States doesn’t exist anymore,” Hinata replied.

Those words were like poison. It was true in a technical sense, but one that would ultimately become final in a year. The Itreans were taking over.

“They no lies,” Ciu’do’ciu said with a chirp. “Disease no affect you ... only Itreans. No worries. Itreans find Itrea. Humans stay here. We protect you. We serve you ... you serve us. Bring no harm to yourselves.”

“As your slaves,” Greg remarked to her.

“Greggory...,” Dontrell tried to shut him up.

“No slaves...” the Yutilian said. “Only mates.”

“As your slaves! You’re trying to conquer us.” He pointed at Waterville’s interior. “The President may be a fool, but we see right through you, Itreans.” He turned his head to look at the others. “We can restore this world, our nation without them! Everything the Itreans are doing, they hope we just bend the knee to them! They want us to disperse! They want us to dismantle our military, our defenses! This is an invasion, and we know it!”

“Yeah!” one of the men yelled out.

“Get off our planet!” a woman remarked to the alien.

“Everyone calm down!” Dontrell called out.

It wasn’t working. Morale crashed almost instantly the moment 80% of the reservists were told they would no longer serve. Trying to maintain control was pointless.

Greg gave an infuriated look down at the alien woman. Instead, Ciu’do’ciu only gave a pretentious smile at the human. The Yutilian lightly bowed her head and walked back some. Perhaps she wasn’t expecting such resistance from the crowd. She put her hands to her chest.

“So sorry,” she explained to everyone. “My English not good. My words ... create anger. I no anger you. Humans must be protected. Serve in war, and you die. Dead mates are useless. We are better than you. We know our enemies. Let us protect you...”

“Lies...,” Greg said, looking upon the others. “We all came here to serve one last time.”

“Greggory...”

“Shut your mouth, Dontrell!” Greg pointed at him. “You knew this was coming and still let it happen. The Itreans are dismantling us. The UWA can’t win the war, so they’re handing Earth over on a silver platter.”

“What about our lives?” Another man asked. “We know how to fight. We’ll be defenseless!”

“And how big is your population, Ciu’do’ciu?”

“Hmm ... billions ... no trillions,” she answered.

“We’ll be overrun, but you won’t succeed. Waterville may bend over to you, but the Western domes will never dissolve their militaries. Every ounce of dirt you try to claim, we’ll fight back. You hear me!”

“Everyone dismissed!” Dontrell yelled at the top of his lungs. Your credentials will be evaluated. I’ll call any of you who still want to serve. Greggory, ... leave.”

The situation was hopeless. Early confusion had pretty much turned into complete anger and frustration by everyone. Hinata was gesturing to Ciu’do’ciu to follow him. Dontrell gave a stern look at Greg. When their eyes met, Dontrell’s face lowered down almost as if he didn’t know what to say.

And that was the point. Greg could see it all. Some of the reservists were on the verge of rioting. Others waved their hands and walked away, grabbing their gear and leaving in droves. The look of utter disappointment was obvious. The tension was intense.

“Everyone,” Dontrell continued. “Disperse now, or I’ll call security!”

Greg was one of many who remained as Ciu’do’ciu did the same. One-third of the original reservists remained as well. Finally, the Yutilian’s feathers lowered down before she turned around and began to follow Hinata.

“Yeah, leave, bitch!” one of the men yelled. “Get off our planet!”

“We didn’t ask you to take our homes!” Another woman said.

Greg sneered. He knew that Waterville’s military would be cut down in size. One by one, more people would be out of a job. Meanwhile, the Itreans would begin pouring in. Even if it wasn’t a military invasion, it was still an invasion, nonetheless. He looked at the other reservists. Their faces said it all. The man felt a sense of connection with them. Military was family. These were Earthers, people who fought to save their homes as the orange muck threatened to devour them and their homes.

No more ... Greg looked at his bags on the floor and saw a rock. It was half the size of his hand. He bent down and picked it up before standing back up. To him, this had to be done. The Itreans wanted Earth. They would have to tear down every human that stood in their way. The people of Eutera, Cipra, and the countless lives lost, the T’rintar had to pay. Earth would never surrender.

The rancher gritted his teeth. He quickly backed up behind the protesters, took a stance, and hoisted his right arm back. The throw would be perfect. He could launch the rock and have it land squarely on the back of the Yutilian’s head. Maybe he could do enough damage to render her unconscious. She had become the perfect personification of evil, an evil that had to be destroyed.

Grab! Just before the rancher’s arm went an inch, a heavy hand grabbed it and stopped the rancher from lobbing his projectile.

Greg’s eyes went wide. He was denied as he turned to look at what happened. A large man around his size had stopped him. His muscular frame and clothes all pointed to him as a civilian, a person who just joined up with the others. However, his goal was different.

This individual had short black hair and a somewhat tanned but not mixed complexion. His right eye and the top portion of his ear and head consisted of mechanical augments. The man had no facial hair on his face except for his left brow.

“Let go...,” Greg said to him, pulling against him. His grip was intense.

“I don’t think you would enjoy what’ll happen,” the stranger said to him. His voice gave an even further inflection of whom he was.

“You’re just a civie!” Greg said to him.

“And I know what’ll happen if you’re going to do it ... trust me, I’ve been there before.”

The stranger’s grip and strength ensured that Greg wouldn’t be able to throw his rock. By then, it was too late. The three individuals had left, and most of the angered reservists were ready to disperse. The rancher let go of the rock before the stranger released his hold.

“Why?” Greg said to him. “Why did you stop me? Don’t you know what she represents? Don’t you know what her people are going to do to this world?”

“You truly don’t know that,” he said to him. There was a pause as the man gave a contented smile. “My name is Naiche, but others just call me Natch.”

“Greg,” he introduced himself as he thought about it. “Naiche ... You’re Native American...”

“I’m surprised you knew that.”

“I’ve heard your people are more of a myth ... wiped out by the orange muck.”

Natch nodded his head. “You’re mostly right. My family ... many of my people never left. Now, only twenty of the Apache survive in New San Antonio.”

“I’m sorry,” Greg huffed as more of the reservists had left. “But, it doesn’t excuse what you did. You know the threat she represents.”

“Maybe, but I also know that my family history didn’t always win by bashing rocks over the settlers’ heads. It only makes them more angry ... angry enough to imprison you or kill you.”

“Then you also know the history of what’s going to happen next. Those Itreans are going to start moving in more and more ... and they will swallow everything that we love and enjoy. Just as the ancient settlers wiped out your people.”

Natch gave a contented smile that surprised Greg. He then reached over and touched the man’s shoulder. “Just because I stopped you from throwing a rock doesn’t mean there are other ways to fight back.”

The Native American released his hold on Greg. Despite his anger over the recent situation, he felt a sense of ease from him. Natch’s smile, persona, and good demeanor seemed to be contagious enough that it calmed Greg some.

“Come with me,” he told Greg.

The rancher felt tempted. He saw Natch turn around and begin heading over to the nearby wall, trying to put some natural distance between the others.

“I don’t see the point of this,” Greg said to him. “I should return home.”

“And you will,” Natch replied.

“Look, I’m not in the mood for some talk. I have a ranch to take care of...”

“One that will still be there when you return.”

The rancher scuffed but tried to be professional. “I don’t need a friend right now.”

“Yes, you do. Whether by your service or your job, you live remotely, even amongst a group, we all need somebody at some point. How long did you serve?”

“Ten years active.”

“Did you enjoy it?”

“I’m not here to keep sharing stories. Get to your point.”

Natch seemed somewhat disappointed but gave a nod. “When two or more work together, they can cut through a mountain. I think you’re only partly right about the Itreans.”

“Have you been watching the news feeds? You know exactly how dangerous they can be.”

“And maybe they will, but a rock will not change the river’s direction. Instead, we must redirect it together. There is more to your story ... fire in the eyes, lightning in hand, ready to throw it. I know another who feels your pain. Even now, he’s just been denied the chance to command the cavalry into battle. Instead, he’s putting the resources together, finding people like us who will make a difference.”

That seemed to grab Greg’s attention. “What do you mean?”

Natch pulled out an old-fashioned business card from his pocket and handed it to him. “I have a good friend, one that holds much power and one that guides the destiny of many around him. He never quits and only sees the benefit of the whole. Instead, I ask of you to seek him out.”

Greg looked at the business card. “Darin Industries. You’re good friends with Christopher Darin?”

“He’s a very good friend, one that helped me out very much when I was younger.”

“If that’s the case, then you wouldn’t be here right now. Darin is like any other corporate-rich fat cat. You should be working with him in his lavish, cozy office spaces instead of being out here, wasting your time with people like me.”

“Hmmm ... there was a time he was like that. But, he became more like you just now when the Itreans arrived. He tried to join the UHN, but things didn’t turn out the way that he wanted.”