Prologue

9 MONTHS AGO              

--REGIS—

               “Mr. President, the VP is on the line,” the secretary said.

               “Tell him I’m busy,” the president replied. The secretary subtly nodded her head and retreated from the door that she was peeking her head through.

               “Every day with this shit…” Regis said to himself. He leaned back in his chair, crossing his right leg over his left, resting his knee up against the corner of the desk. He sat in front of the thick wooden desk near the back of the Oval Office, with rays of lights shining through the three windows behind him. In his hands he read a situation report from the great war that currently gripped the United States Supreme.

               “As of 0300 this morning, we lost control of our FOB in West Virginia,” his general said over the conference call speaker sitting on his desk.

               “Can we mobilize an enhanced over there?” he asked.

               “We could, but our battalion in that region has already pulled back to the Arnold Air Force Base in Tennessee.”

               “How long would it take to get a squad ready to counter-attack to support an enhanced assault,”

               “I’d predict two weeks, including preparation and planning, sir,” the general answered.

               Regis let out a frustrated sigh. “How are we doing on the west coast? Where are we at with reclaiming Oakland?”

               “Enemy forced have pushed through Oakland faster than anticipated. We have our forces set up to prevent a movement into Los Angeles.”

               “We need Oakland back general,” he said sternly.

               “Yes sir,” the general replied.

               “That’s enough for now,” Regis said as he disconnected the speaker. He tossed the situation report across his desk and removed his glasses, rubbing the bridge of his nose between his eyes. He put his glasses back on and leaned forward, putting both feet down on the floor and pressing the intercom to the secretary on his phone receiver.

               “Have we received a response from Laurel Morgan?” he asked the secretary.

               “No sir, we have not,” she responded.

               Regis let out a defeated sigh. “Ok, thank you-“

               “If I may, Mr. President,” she said just before Regis lifted his finger off the button. “Maybe you could contact Leo. From what I know, they are close. He might be able to convince her to join.”

               “Already tried that…”

               “Ok, just trying to help out is all,”

               “I don’t mean to be rude. Appreciate it Leslie,” he ended the connection. Regis sat still, staring at the situation report that lay across the desk. He reached forward and grabbed it, studying the details once again.

               Casualties: 973 million

               That number ate away at his soul. Just barely 4 years of war and almost a billion men dying under his command tore him up. The world, in total, in the billions of casualties. It was the U.S.S. against virtually everyone else. Everyone who was left anyways. The most recent decades of Earth have not been kind to its inhabitants. The world starved for natural resources. Populations grew to unsustainable sizes, and nature suffered from it. Over time, after escalating political debate over policy about management and allocation of what little was left, some countries broke out into civil war. Many of them were unable to recover from it and collapsed.

               Regis reminisced about how this all started four years ago. He had been captured by a terrorist group who called themselves Javelin. They used him as leverage to try to spark a world war, plotting to control the population using a global conflict on a scale unlike any Earth had ever seen. Despite the fact that the last thing he wanted to do was to give in to the schemes of a terrorist outfit, he realized that the U.S.S. was the last remaining superpower in the world, which paints a target on his back. His “peers” would turn into his enemies. Desperation will make a man do anything to survive. America was target number one for a resource war. Regis determined that he couldn’t wait for them to arrive at his doorstep, it needed to be handled now.

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               Ultimately, upon his arrival back onto mainland after his rescue, he declared war on the Republic of Asian Territories. R.A.T was a coalition of the countries that still remained in southeast Asia. They formed a union together to combine the resources they had left, as they were failing to uphold themselves on their own. As he suspected, after his declaration of war, many European nations announced allegiance to the R.A.T., proving his theory that the globe had America in their sights.

               Although he understood all this, part of him now regrets this decision. He found himself in the deadliest war mankind has ever seen, and things were looking bleak. The fighting has reached the mainland, and they were starting to get pushed back. Something needed to be done…

               “You can’t keep ignoring me Regis,” the vice president said as he suddenly burst through the door.

               “Oh… Rayshe. Am I glad to see you.”

               “Have you changed your mind yet?” Rayshe asked.

               “There are absolutely better options, that is a desperate last resort.”

               “I’d say that’s about where we’re at,” Rayshe said as he sat down in a chair on the other side of Regis’ desk. “Look, it’s the world against us. Literally. This war is slipping, and we can’t let it get away.”

               Regis sighed as he looked away.

               “You need to really think about this Regis. You can’t keep putting it off. It should have been done the moment they touched down on American soil,” Rayshe said.

               “Rayshe, we are this close to a court with Boreas, you know how that will look on us if they arrive to Earth and it’s been ravaged by nuclear weapons?” Regis asked.

               “Imagine how it will look if they show up and you’ve lost,” Rayshe responded. “You’re the ambassador for off-planet connections, they won’t agree to terms if you aren’t the one shaking the hand.”

               Regis furrowed his eyebrows, still staring at the wall to his left as he thought.

               “You declared this war on the pretense that America is targeted by those who wish to steal what we have,” Rayshe started. “When they find out that you set up negotiations with off-world civilizations for support, that just increases the bounty on us. And you after all didn’t want to share…”

               “I struck the deal. Boreas is on their way because of me,” Regis snapped. “No-one else could do what I did. So yes, I am not “sharing the wealth,” it belongs to our people.”

               “Yes, Regis. Yes. You do understand. So, you will understand when I say this,” Rayshe said while standing up, leaning his hands on the desk. “No one has the defenses anymore to prevent nuclear strike. You made sure of that. Targeted, successive, deliberate strikes; we cripple their infrastructures. And then it will just be us. Just as you want.”

               “That’s not what I want,”

               “It’s what you need to want,” Rayshe persisted. “As long as the R.A.T. can do something about it, they always will. They want to destroy us because of what they don’t have.”

               Regis stood up from his chair and turned around to stand before the windows behind him. He stared out into the White House lawn, watching the orange sunset over the sky.

               “Once they are out of the picture, then we can turn our focus towards Boreas,” Rayshe said.

               “No, Rayshe. We are close to an alliance with them-“

               “What makes you think they are going to help us? Significantly, that is. And more than once. Terrans don’t have a good rep in the galaxy, they probably think we are a joke-

               “Rayshe…” Regis said sternly. “Making more enemies is the last thing we need right now.”

               “I want to save our people just as much as you Regis,” Rayshe said as he walked around the desk, standing closer to Regis. “If you want what’s best for our people like I do, then you’d know that it’s what must be done. I want them to thrive, to prosper. Not just get by.”

               Regis continued to stare out the window. The orange sky started to turn dark as the sun moved ever farther below the horizon. Rayshe stood still behind him, waiting for him to answer. Judging by this silence, Regis was really thinking about it; more progress than all the previous times Rayshe has pitched his plan.

               “Ok, Rayshe.” Regis finally said.

               “Ok?”

               “Ok… You’re right. The R.A.T. will go to any length to save their people, even if that includes destroying us. So, I will go to any length to save ours, even if that means destroying them…” Regis said. Rayshe didn’t respond, he stood in the same spot behind him, proud that he finally made the leap. Regis turned around to face Rayshe, locking eye contact with him.

               “But we will not make enemies with the people of Boreas. Is that clear?” he asked Rayshe.

               Rayshe held eye contact with Regis, his jaw subtly tightening up as he mulled over the ultimatum. Sometimes compromises had to be made…

               “As day.”