Coming Home (Free Fleet Book 2) (13 page)

James opened the door.

“I forgot some..”

“Come here, now,” Yasu rasped and he came over, shock and softness in his features as she dragged him onto the bed, hid her head in his chest and cried.

For those lost, for those that will not find home, I hope I lead a life you'd be proud of. Thank you for fulfilling your duties. Rest now,
she thought sadly as she cried for them, her brothers and sisters.

 Chapter Reunions

I hadn't seen George Everez or Marco Pablo in months, but still they had asked for me to come with them as they went to see their parents.

I could refuse them but, after the stories he'd shared with me and the squad, I felt as if I knew them partially. Marco had joined us, as his parents lived near George's. I think both of them wanted my support. While they were still under than ten years of age, both of them they had bigger bodies than most twenty five year olds, and had seen more than most people had.

We went to George's first. People hid in their houses as they shuttle settled on the suburban street. A Mexican man and black woman waited outside of their door nervously. George ran to them.

“Mom, Dad!” he said as the man and woman looked at him with tears in their eyes and they embraced their son. After a few minutes of hugging and talking, George waved to me and Marco.

“Come on, guys, my mom has some food and drinks,” Hh said. I nudged Marco.

“Shall we?”

He grinned. “I won't be one to deny real food and drink,” he said as he walked down, me following while Jane and Dave followed in their Mechas, moving to the houses front and rear respectively as I followed Marco.

Inside the house was comfortable and George's mom and Dad were pining over him.

“Well, look who’s a big boy now.”

“Stop that, Dad,” George said, embarrassed, but also with some iron in his voice. George clearly wasn't a child anymore, and it was going to take everyone a little getting used to I could tell.

“I guess you've grown up fast, huh?” George's dad said as tears came to his eyes.

“But I'm here now, Dad,” George said. His Mom hugged his dad before turning to George.

“Yes you are, baby, just a bit bigger,” she said with a sad smile as she kissed George's head.

“Please take a seat. What are your names?”

“This is Marco and Salchar.” Both of their heads turned to me as I smiled and nodded, taking a seat.

“And they are...?” George clearly didn't understand what she was asking. In the Commandos there was no beating around the bush.

“We're his squad mates,” I answered as I accepted a drink from Mrs. Everez. Both her and her husband eyed me suspiciously.

“He's the reason we're alive,” Marco said, a faint grin on his face as he pushed me by my shoulder. The losses were too recent to not think on who hadn't made it. Abella had died on the Syndicate ships, and my squad mates continued to dwindle.

“So, where's the car?” George said and his dad grinned, taking him into the garage. They went to work there and Marco and I munched on the treats Mrs. Everez gave us before sitting down.

“So, what was it like?” she asked. Marco leaned forward and I leaned back, both of us in our memories.

“Bad,” I said into the ceiling as I remembered the pain implants, beating, and constant physical training which had been as much torture on my mind as it was body. Not for the first time, I wondered how the humans had learned to look past that and see the Sarenmenti were just like them.

“Thank you for looking after him.”

“He can do that all on his own now,” Marco said.

She hesitated before asking her next question.

“Are you going to take him away from us again?” Her eyes were like lasers as she watched my every move.

“That will be up to him.” I shrugged. “Every person under my command gets to make a choice when we liberate their home world. George is going to have to make his own decision,” I said. She kept studying me as if to glean another piece of information before nodding and looking away.

“Is there any of my boy in there still?” she asked the wall.

“He still is your boy; he's just gone through things you couldn't imagine,” I said gently as she turned to me with tears in her eyes.

“It feels like his childhood’s been stolen, as if he's gone from a kid to an adult much too soon.”

“We all had to,” I said, pointing to Marco. “Marco's only a year older than him.”

Marco nodded. “We just learned to grow up faster. Thankfully, the older kids helped us out and, we survived and kicked some ass in the process,” he said with a small fleeting smile which I returned.

George finished up with his dad quickly and excused us all as he made them understand that we were going to see Marco's parents. He hugged and kissed his parents more times than I could count before he jogged onto the shuttle with Janice and Dave getting on as it picked up and headed to Marco's parents.

We came down in the middle of a spread out, rich community where Lamborghinis and the newest Audi's were out for show.

No one came out as Marco dropped off the shuttles ramp and we followed as he walked to a grey house. He knocked on the door. Getting nothing after a few minutes he shrugged, input a code, and walked in.

“We don't want anything to do with your invasion,” a man said from upstairs as Marco spread his hands.

“Dad, it’s me, Marco,” he said as a head appeared from a room before darting back.

“My son is nine years old, not a fully grown man!” His tone was rising in anger.

“Dad, it's me. Otherwise, how would I know the combination for the door.”

“With the crazy stuff you guys have, you could've broken in!”

“Are Mom, Isabelle, and John up there too?”

“Just because you know my family’s names you think you're my son? Get out of my house!”

“Yeah, just get, you space fuck!” A teenage boy could be heard adding to his fathers tirade.

Marco let his arms fall as he raised his face in an attempt to stop the tears falling. He turned to me and George with tears in my eyes.

“They weren't much of a family anyway. Mom was always working from home, which meant going to the spa and talking to her friends with her phone plugged into her ear. My dad only showed up when he needed clothes or maybe to sleep. My siblings and I were decorations.” He shrugged. I walked over, hugging him as George followed a second later.

We broke apart and I smiled sadly. “What about that comic book collection you had? Don't you want that?”

Marco grinned as he waved to us. “Come on,” he said and we followed him up the stairs as the rest of his family moved to another room further in the house.

“Get out! I'm calling the military,” Marco's dad said. Marco hunched his shoulders but kept going. He opened a door with signs all over it. Inside was filled with toys and a wall of comic books. The room didn't look like it had been touched since we'd left Earth.

Marco went about, speaking of the various magazines he'd talked of with the squad as we had our daily memory chat. George and I grinned and listened all the same.

I don't know how much later it was when a large teenage boy with most of the same features of Marco leaned against the doorframe.

“So, what are you guys? A bunch of comic book nerds?” he snorted.

“If you're trying to imitate my useless brother why don't you take the things? It's not like he's coming back anyway.” The boy, who I surmised was John, looked directly at Marco. A smirk crossed his face.

“I always knew he was a waste, and finally Mom and Dad agreed.” George and I stood and stared at this boy as his surety disappeared. Anger for my friend, no, my brother being bullied so blatantly made my muscles bunch as I resisted the urge to put him through the wall.

Marco didn't have any of that resistance. He walked to John, picked him up, and punched him viciously in the gut before tossing him onto the landing.

“That's what you left us with, Mom and Dad. If you want somewhere to go, come with me, Isabelle. Come meet my
real
family,” Marco said as he turned back into the room, his anger dissipating. I'd known about Isabelle from Marco's stories. She was his older sister with the same dirty blonde hair as his. She'd been taller than him when he'd left, but she'd taken him to the comic book store after his chess club and her engineering club. She was pretty, with green eyes and a smile Marco said could light up a room. Marco looked a little downtrodden as no one came out. She must've been hiding with the rest of the family or wasn't in.

“Well, he was right about one thing. These are my comic books and I want them.” He grinned, a look of peace crossing his face as we looked at him in askance, our eyes moving to his brother.

“He was a bully more than a brother. He deserved it. Felt good to get some of my own back.” He shrugged as we smiled.

“True that,” George said. He grabbed a bed sheet and we began carefully packaging up the comic books as Marco continued his talk on all things comic related, me and George interjecting as he talked about something we knew something about.

We walked downstairs, John must've been dragged away by someone, or crawled himself as we made our way to the shuttle. Halfway there a girl emerged from the house and ran for the shuttle. Marcos' face broke into a smile as he dropped his comic books and ran to her.

Her look of shock turned into glee as her little brother picked her up and swung her around.

“I... I thought you...” She trailed off, hugging him as tears streamed down her face.

“I'm back now,” he said, his own eyes wet.

“I missed you,” she said into his shoulder.

“I know.” Marco's voice was as quiet as his sisters.

“Are you coming home?” she said, pushing away.

“We both know that this wasn't my home,” Marco said, pain in his voice.

“So where are we going?” she asked.

“Wah… Isabelle, I'm going back into space, to start a mining company. It's no place for you.”

“If my lil' bro can do it, I can too,” she said, getting on her tip toes to ruffle her 'little' brother's hair.

“What about Mom, Dad, and John?” Marco asked.

“Mom and Dad care about image still, they think that nothing has changed. John, he's a bully.” Isabelle looked away, cradling her arm.

“What happened?” Marco asked, his voice thunderous.

“Nothing,” she said, looking at him. “He beat me up, what do I care about someone that beats up his own sister?” Her voice filled with contempt.

“So, when you say you're going to space, I'm telling you, you're taking me.”

“Commander?” he asked, looking to me, looking lost.

“You'll need to train if you want to be a part of the Free Fleet, or talk to Chaleel, or apply to one of the civvy jobs we have.” I shrugged as Marco released her and her smile only seemed to widen.

“I'm in! As long as I get out of here as soon as possible,” she said. Marco smiled with his sister.

“How old are you?” I asked, not sure if I'd like the answer or not

“Sixteen.”

“Good! Just squeezing in,” I said, putting my fingers close together to emphasize by how much, grinning with Marco.

I hope more families can accept my people and their differences,
I thought as we all got on the shuttle, leaving the super homes, dropping off George, and then heading back up to the Hachiro and the work which awaited us there.

****

It was the next day I dropped the bomb of who was confirmed as dead. I watched as flowers were placed at the newly forming spaceports across the world. I gritted my teeth as I watched. Families who had lost their children, brothers, and sisters had been given hope as we returned, that hope had turned to ash in their mouths.
At least they'll get the letters from their comrades,
I thought sadly. It was so insignificant compared to the lives of so many. 

I returned for the second day of talks. The world was a mixture of happiness and sadness as people learnt what had happened to their loved ones and friends and family which had been taken from them.

I walked into the talks building, going through the same throng of reporters and into the talks room. The topic of the day was, again, nations trying to give the Free Fleet less. Then the president of the United States took the stand.

“Hello fellow nation leaders, today I would like to talk to you about an issue I believe we haven’t fully looked into.”

Everyone perked up at this, looking intently at the president. He took a few moments to make sure he had everyone's attention then he continued.

“The issue being that James Cook is in fact not a military officer. He has never served with any military or had formal training of any kind, and yet he commands the most powerful war machine in the history of Earth. In fact, before the events that led to his capture and those of his fleet, he was a gamer. A person that commits violent acts for fame, money, and fun. How are we to trust this man over a man that has dedicated his life to the military, to serving the people of Earth?” He looked over the assembled nations which where now talking to their aides.