Sync'd Reset

By Christopher Stuchl

In a world shattered by a devastating meteor strike, the United Earth Council, along with the Earth Defense Force, rises to defend humanity against an unknown enemy. Lander, a gifted pilot, discovers a unique talent - the ability to interface with the mysterious Krystals, the power source behind untested war machines known as Rakuras.
Lakota, gifted yet uncertain about her path, has her aspirations disrupted by the loss of her mother, thrusting her into the ranks of the EDF. Childhood companions Lander and Lakota, with divergent paths and hidden talents, find their destinies entwined by fate. Their journey becomes a thrilling quest for answers, survival, and an unexpected ally. As they navigate the chaos and intrigue of their war-torn world, the deep connection between Lander and Lakota hints at something more profound.
"Sync'd: Reset" is a tale of love, resilience, and the enduring human spirit in the face of adversity. As the world teeters on the brink of destruction, Lander and Lakota must navigate a treacherous path toward hope and salvation, where the fate of humanity hangs in the balance.
 

A story that reminds us that even in the darkest of times, there is always a glimmer of light waiting. to be found.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Christopher Stuchl
• Release date: Oct 18, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223063131

Book preview

Chapter 1

I’m Lander

I’m sitting on a cot in what looks like a gymnasium with people running past me with panicked faces. I try to remember how I got here, but my memory fails me. I pull the stuffed frog closer to me and feel a strange comfort from it, though I don’t know why.

As I glance up, a woman slows from a run to kneel beside me and asks my name. Ravi, I say quietly, before I remember my mother has told me I shouldn’t talk to strangers and I look around for her.

After a moment, I realize she wasn’t with me. I glance around anxiously and panic as I scream, Where’s my mom? The woman’s face has a moment of pain as she speaks, I don’t know, sweetie. Tears form behind my eyes and a flash of her floods my mind. She’s on the ground with blood on her face. I scream. Where is my mom? She’s hurt. I need to find her!

I jump down and run from the woman, trying to find my mom in the crowd. I see some people with wounds while others attend to them.

There is chaos all around me as I push through the crowd while I scream, Mommy! I’m here, I’m here. Please, Mommy, I can’t find you!

Out of nowhere, I'm pulled into the air and a man I recognize is holding me. I look at him as he says, Ravi, I’m sorry, but your mom is no longer with us. The man is a friend of my dad. He wouldn’t lie to me, but she wouldn’t just leave me, and I yelled at him. You’re lying to me. My mommy would never leave. She will find me!

I struggle to escape his hold, but he only pulls me closer to him and I can see the pain and sorrow roll over his face.

For a moment, I think he’s about to cry. I’m sorry buddy. I don’t know how to make you understand. Your mother and father have both passed from this life. I’m... he trails off before finishing.

A man holds up a picture as he yells, Has anyone seen this woman? Her name is Tori!

My mother’s face flashes in my head again. I look down at my hands and realize I’m still gripping the oversized stuffed frog, seeing it's covered in blood—my mother's blood.

Years Later

Sitting in the dark after waking up before my alarm is always a terrible start to the day. I glance at my communication device (com) and check the time: 04:46. Knowing I won’t fall back asleep now, I debate if I should get ready, or just lay here in peace.

With a grunt, I decide to get ready. At least I can make it to the hanger before the staff, letting me review the agenda in peace as well, so I opt for an early start.

Opening the door to the washroom, and the light turns on automatically, momentarily blinding me. Washroom light to fifty percent, I say, and the lights dim.

I step out of the washroom, fully dressed in my uniform. It's white with black stripes down the outside of the legs and two black stripes around the cuffs of my sleeves. Silver buttons run the length of my shirt, accompanied by a black belt and matching shoes. I check the mirror to ensure everything is in place. I have a clean shave and short, dark blonde hair. Everything looks in order. I raise the back of my hand to the mirror and say, Calendar. The mirror displays my itinerary for the day: 

0700–Report to Dr. Itage in the Dragon hangar.

1200–Leisure time

1300–Report to Classroom 2.1.55 S building

1500–Report to Classroom 6.9.11 H building

1700–Released from Duty

A typical day. I've been with the EDF for eight months now, and lately, each day has been nearly identical. The first five hours are devoted to research in the experimental department with Dr. Itage, and the remainder of the day is filled with coursework.

I glance at my com once more and recall that I woke up early, so I'm ahead of schedule. A grin spreads across my face as an idea strikes me. I scroll through my contacts and tap the call button. A tired and irritated voice answers.

Chapter 2

Lakota

Iblink a few times , struggling to focus on my com, and eventually press the answer icon. You better be on your damn deathbed calling me this early! I grumble, trying to sound as annoyed as possible.

All I hear is a faint chuckle from the other end before Lander says, Sorry, I thought you'd be up already, studying for your placement exams.

I shut my eyes again and rub my forehead. He knows I hate mornings. You're mistaken. If you call me this early again, I’ll glitter bomb your room. I tap the end call and toss my com onto the bed.

I roll over, attempting to fall back asleep, but after 10 minutes, I give up and sit up in bed. Damn you, Lander, I mutter to myself, then stand.

He's aware of how stressed I am about the placement exams. I really don't want to score low and end up working as a civil servant for the rest of my life, or worse. I glance over at my desk, and the three screens with my practice work are waiting for me. After a good stretch, I leave my room, heading for the washroom. I can tell my mom is still asleep, hearing her soft snoring coming from her room as I pass by.

After my shower, I dress in my school uniform and stop at the mirror in my room. A white button-up shirt, my gray school blazer, and dress slacks. I thought of wearing the skirt today, but changed my mind after seeing the weather forecast on my mirror.

Before I go out, I check my makeup and review my hair. I'm wearing garnet eyeliner, which always makes my green eyes pop, along with a high ponytail featuring a red stripe down the middle.

Everything looks wonderful. I say to myself. Next week, I think I'll give the dark brown coloring a try. I'm not sure I like this blonde with the red.

One of my classmates suggested it, and at the time, it seemed like a great idea. I've been coloring my hair since I was 10, and I'm not sure I can remember my natural color anymore. Seven years of unnatural hair color.

I let out a light laugh as the thought of letting it go back to normal ran through my mind. I grab my bag and head out with the thought of coffee and a muffin calling to me at the café around the corner.

I arrive and notice Mel already sitting with her coffee, staring intensely at her com. I pass her to get my things and return. As I walk over to her and sip the delightful liquid in my hand.

What are you looking at that has you so focused? I ask as I sit down.

Mel isn't what I would call a close friend, but we chat at school and sometimes here at the café. She glances up and smiles.

The Griffin posted a picture of that secret fighter jet this morning. It's still fuzzy and hard to make out too many details, but it is definitely the new one.

Her eyes go right back to her com. I lean over and look at it. She's right, it's blurry, and honestly, I couldn't tell it apart from the ones we have on the base right now. If you say so, I finally mutter as I sip more of the liquid, which gives me life.

I can't understand why this wouldn't fascinate you, Lakota. If the rumors are true, this will be the fastest, most agile, most well-armed fighter in the history of humankind.

I look at her with a blank expression for a moment, trying to figure out why it matters. Mel, we haven't had a war since the EDF was formed, nine years of utter peace. In fact, why do we waste so much on the military, anyway? Who are we going to fight? Mole men? I deadpan.

Mel rolls her eyes at me and lays her com down. She leans over and, in a low voice, says, I know you don't care much about what happens in the military, but there is something they are not telling us.

She looks around as if this info is top secret. I drink a bit more coffee and decide to indulge her. Like?

She moves even closer and starts on this long explanation about a build-up of new tech, a giant factory being built on the other side of the ridge, and massive shipments being trucked and flown into the middle of nowhere to the west. 

I was trying to pay attention, but most of the time, I was focused on the warm, sweet goodness in my hand.

Mel, I put my hand on her shoulder as I stand up. I think you should stop reading so much of The Griffin. It's going to end with you in the psych ward. 

She huffed and spoke. We'll know soon enough, and when it all comes out, you owe me a coffee.

A small smile crosses my face and I nod in acceptance, throw my bag over my shoulder, and head out the door to school.

Chapter 3

Lander

As I sit at my desk in room 6911 H building, I attempt a calculation unrelated to the class. The instructor has informed us that we could take an extra credit test if we wanted or needed to. I glance up at her, pretending I’m interested in what she says. She wears a military uniform as she writes on the touch wall. Most of us have heard stories from our parents or caretakers about what happened that day, as anyone over the age of 20 still has vivid memories of it.

She turns to speak to us. Now, class, on the upcoming test, we will not accept answers unless they are from the official records. This includes where the meteor landed, the damage it did to the moon, or the tidal waves it created. All the timeframes will have to be exact, with no rounding. Does anyone have any questions?

Alex raised his hand, and right away, I cringed a bit in my seat. Anytime he has a question or comment, everything goes sideways. Other students seem to enjoy the drama he creates with the instructor. I almost feel bad for her. She’s a lieutenant in her mid-thirties, I would guess. Teaching a bunch of kids that some day could outrank her must be a challenge all by itself. 

Yes, Alex? the instructor asked.

Alex stood up as he had been trained to do. He is taller than most of the class and seems to tower over us now. He has short, dark hair and an olive complexion. His jaw is square and well pronounced, his eyes light brown and set deep in his head, and when he spoke, he had a slight accent that he attributed to his parents. He told me once that he speaks three different languages.

To pass this, do we have to answer everything as it is in the book? his voice had a touch of contempt in it. Can we not use information that we know to be true because we've seen it with our own eyes?

Alex sat down before the instructor began to talk.

Alex, if you want the extra credit, which some of you need to pass the class and move on to flight training, then yes, you must answer the questions as they have been recorded.

She turned back to the touch wall and pressed an icon to display all the statistics about the disaster.

Everything in this file, which I have already sent to you, will be on the test. This will include the total population loss of 5 billion people worldwide after the first 2 years. Also, a list of all major cities that were wiped out in sections, including a list of coastal areas, mainland’s, islands, and how. There will be over forty questions on this subject alone. Although they will be multiple-choice, luck will only get you so far on this.

Alex scowled at the instructor from his seat, clearly unhappy with the information being provided to him. As he sat in his chair, the instructor continued the lesson.

Now, class, who can tell me how long the riot wars lasted? Alex raised his hand. Yes, Alex, the instructor called on him, but with clear reservation.

Alex again stood up to speak. The official answer is three years, as after this time, the remaining governments gathered together and formed the United Earth Council.

The instructor smiled, pleased with his answer, and began to turn around to switch the screen. Alex finished before he sat.

But firsthand accounts said they are still going on to this day in parts of the world as nomads fight for land that was taken from them and... He was interrupted by the instructor as she said in a raised voice.

That will be all, Alex, and if you put any of that on the test, you will fail!

Alex sat back down with a small grin on his face.

Now, make sure you review the formation of the EDF, the instructor continued, as there will be a small portion of the test covering that, though it will not be as extensive. The instructor pulled up a new window on the wall and pressed send to the current class.

Alex looked over at another classmate and, in less than a whisper, said, I bet they want us to believe that the EDF was formed for the good of all mankind as well.

The classmate ignored him, but the instructor heard him and flexed her hand into a fist and back again, trying to keep herself calm.

Let’s move on to a subject that we will be covering in the last period of the quarter. She moved her hands across the board, and it took her a few moments to find the file and bring it up. She clearly didn’t plan on going over the material today.

We will be covering the penal system next. Would anyone like to summarize it for us? She glanced at Alex, but he stayed still in his seat, his expression like stone.

Another student raised her hand. Yes, Alyssa, go ahead. She stood up and explained.

The current codes and laws do not use a prison system as society did in the past. We now use rehabilitation camps. Depending on the offense, the stay in the camp can be as short as seven days or extend up to the rest of the offender's life.

The instructor smiled and motioned for her to continue.

There are also many different levels of camp, from public assistants, which would include trash pickup, to a public works program in which the offender would be working in the lower part of the city doing repairs or cleanup of public works.

The instructor pulled open the file and sent it to the class. Now these laws apply to citizens and military personnel like yourselves all the same. What is the one and only punishment that they can give a military member that a citizen cannot? Again, Alyssa stood up.

Death ma’am. For the crime of treason against the EDF. The instructor says.

Thank you, Alyssa, and since we are running short on time, the only punishment a citizen can receive that military personnel can’t is banishment.

The instructor turned to the class and said in a flat tone. These punishments have been handed out only once in the last five years. Does anyone have any questions?

Alex began to raise his hand, but the clock chimed before he did, and the instructor motioned the class to dismiss.

Chapter 4

Dr. Itage

Istare at the wall of screens displaying information from the latest experiments. Most of the information has already been analyzed by my staff, but I still can't help but review it.

Not that I don't trust them. In fact, I feel extremely lucky to have some of the smartest people on the planet working with me. Their drive to solve these problems is only matched by mine, but I just can't help myself.

My door chimes, and I look at the security cam also on the wall and say, Allow guest. The door clicks open, and Warner walks in, his gaze drawn to the wall.

How does that not give you a massive headache? I look over at him and catch a slight smile at the corner of his mouth.

I don't have time for headaches, so I choose not to get one, I reply. Warner lets out a huff.

Any closer to solving the Krystal issue? he asks, already knowing the answer, since I would have called, or maybe screamed, or maybe fainted. It's hard to tell what I would do.

I'm reviewing the data, but there's still nothing that explains why it only works with him.

Warner sits down at my desk and leans forward on his elbows. I already hate having him in this program. I didn't want him here in the first place, and now he's attending officer's courses, spending more time in the lab than with his friends. We need to solve this and give him back some of what's left of his social life, Warner says with a touch of agitation in his voice.

Looking back to the wall, I have all the data up there; the power readings, the pilot interface results, and, more than anything, the number 72% in the middle.

I don’t like having to use someone this young either. Don’t misunderstand me, Warner.

I turn back to face him again. Lander might only be 17, but surprisingly he is extremely good at this, but knowing he has so little time to be—

I pause, searching for the best way to say this. a teenager. If I could just make a few thousand more of him, or just his mind, we wouldn’t be here. Warner glances up and stares at the screen for a moment.

A thousand more Landers, I’m not sure I could manage that, he says with a small laugh. But you have a point about his mind. I stand there, looking at Warner, waiting for him to elaborate further.

He stands up and walks over to the wall. You already mapped his brain or thoughts, or whatever that scan does. You know how it communicates with the Krystal interface, correct? I look at the file with the cerebral mapping of Lander. The data shows how he can sync with an outstanding 72%, while the next closest test pilot has a dismal 12%.

Yes, we can even show in real-time how he is able to sync with the computer and the Krystal interface. Others do great with the first and—

I stop as my mind starts to piece together the puzzle. We can use his scans and duplicate the patterns in a computer before they reach the Krystal computer. I trail off as my mind races. I start to pull up different folders and files on the wall, and suddenly my mind is working at light speed as I begin to place everything I need into a shared directory to send this to the main lab.

Warner stands up and heads to the door, pauses, and says, I’m going to give Lander the day off tomorrow. I’ll tell him you need to calibrate the equipment. I glance over at him and give him a thumbs-up as he leaves.

Chapter 5

Lakota

Looking at myself in the mirror, I examined my green eyes and naturally tan skin. Mel was trying to set me up with her cousin, or was it her neighbor's cousin? I couldn't remember. I almost agreed to meet them at the café before I got a call from Lander, telling me he had the morning off from classes and asked me to hang out.

Opening the bedroom door slowly, I looked down the hall, listening for my mom. She was in the kitchen. I could make it if I went now and stepped lightly down the hall toward the front door. Just as I reached it, my mother came out of the kitchen and saw me bolting out the door.

She yelled, Lakota, GET BACK HERE NOW, YOUNG LADY! I was out the door and halfway to the other block before my mom got to the front step.

I'LL BE HOME LATER! I yelled back.

The placement exam was in two days, and I was done with the practice exam. Spending time with Lander would help calm my nerves. I'd known him since I was six, or was it seven? Back when there was still fighting every night, Lander was with a family that had taken him in. I found out his mother died trying to protect him when the meteor hit, and his father was never found. He would sneak out and come over to my house, and we would stay up late reading books or drawing with a small box of coloring sticks. We'd been friends ever since.

Lakota, wait, hey, wait up, would ya?

The shout came from behind me, and I turned around and waited for him. He held out his arms for a hug, which I was happy to give. I hadn't seen him much lately since he's always at the base or studying. My mind drifted off, thinking about those nights we spent comforting each other while gunfire could be heard in the distance.

Lander brought my mind back to the present when he said, What are you thinking about, Lakota? Some guy, right?

I pushed him back a bit and looked up at him. Had he gotten taller? I was thinking about when we were kids, and you used to sneak over to my house.

He smiled, and I could see the memories had come back to him as well.

He focused back on me and spoke. So, the placement exam is in two days. Any ideas of what you'll pick when you get the results?

I’ve been thinking about that for the past few months. Depending on how high I score, I could pick from a list of careers or continue education, but I still haven’t decided. We begin to walk down the street, and he lets me know what he thinks I should pick. You know you could join the EDF, then you could pick from a broader range of careers.

We've talked about this a few times, and each time I say no. Not because I don’t think I could do it, but because I don’t see the point.

I poke a bit of fun at him. So, I can fight mole men, or maybe the evil nomads.

Lander clenches his jaw a bit. Well, I think you would do well. I cock my head while saying, No other reason?

Lander gives a coy smile. Because I would like to have a friend in there.

I smile at the comment as a warm feeling comes over me. I didn’t expect that. Why did those words make me feel so warm? I start to think about the exam and how my mom is so pushy with the practice work.

Lander puts his arm on my shoulder as he says, I’m sorry, but what else could you do? You don’t like anything, well, anything but the arcade, coffee, and karaoke.

I brush his hand away after that, trying to remain enthusiastic and say, Well, Lander, that’s where I would like to go. You in?

He shrugs as he says, I don’t know. There are so many other options, but I guess.

I see his crooked little smile, and still, I let out an enthusiastic Great!

I love it when he tags along, not only for the company, but it is the only thing I can always best him at, much to his annoyance. I also get to sing when he comes along. As much as I hate to say it, I don’t like singing karaoke by myself. With him along, I didn't feel as self-conscious. Also, there is a song he’ll sing with me every time.

Hey, Lakota, Lander says quietly, leaning in so I can hear.

What?

And with a fast leap, Lander takes off running and yells back, I’ll race you!

You cheat, no fair! I yell at him.

This too is a game of ours we’ve played since we were kids. If I get my hands on you... I’ll. I’ll....

He yells back at me, You’ll be out of breath! I wanted to say I’ll knock you upside the head, but that too.

The arcade is only about six blocks from my house, and the base is about four kilometers from there. We spend as much time as possible in the arcade and sing our song, an older pop song called ‘We’ll Find Our Way,’ before Lander has to leave for the base. Before he joined the EDF, we would be there for at least an hour after school every day, and since then, I’m lucky if we spend an hour a week there.

As we walk out onto the street, Lander stops and looks over at me. You know, Lakota, I think you spend every credit you earn on those games. Lander hates to lose, and he loses to me all the time.

I give him a smug smile and say, Well, Lander, if you would learn to play, I wouldn’t beat you all the time.

I know that will grind him a bit, and he says, I’m too busy to play games and sing all damn day!

I just smile as I say back to him, Why would I join? Well?

Lander calms down as he thinks about his words. Well, I don’t know, I mean, well, a job, I guess, Lander said it, avoiding the obvious answers I wanted.

I leaned in a little. I can get a job anywhere.

I know what I want him to say, I just have to get him to say it. Part of me has this strange desire to be close to him, which I know is silly. Every time he gets too close to a girl, I swear he finds a reason to push her away. It's better to just be close friends than fall into a void with him.

I nudge him with my shoulder, and he finally speaks, OK then. Well, Lakota, what about me?...

I feel my cheeks blush and say, Are you asking me something?!? I say it faster and with more excitement than I intended, and I bite my lip as soon as I realize it.

He rubs his neck as he says, Well, I was kind of thinking... A loud rumble from above cuts him off. Oh, Look at that! He points to the sky as we see ten old Wamecha fly over; one lands right down the block from us.

I’m not a big fan of jets, but even I know what they are and say with disbelief, You don’t see those pieces of junk around much anymore.

These Wamecha were produced just after the disaster to police the cities and most of the world. They have a short range and are not very powerful compared to the newer jets we use today. Hey, you don’t get to live in a city with a military base without picking up some things.

They resemble old F-15s but have a built-in ground unit for city policing. During the chaos after the disaster, they got the job done. At least that’s what we learned in school.

It must be a parade or something. Lander has forgotten what he was saying before, and I find myself talking under my breath, Damn it, what were you thinking? I want to hear the rest of it badly.

Looking up, I see the Medius EDF jet. I believe it is called an F-4a4, as it hovers overhead, almost right above us. I have never seen one so close. After the first jet alters its configuration to hover mode, which changed the flow from the jet engines to hovering, it extended its landing gear. It was bulky gear, so it could roll along the streets. It isn’t a tank, but during the riots, it was enough to scare people off. It wasn't really new technology even then; it has been around since the late 20th century.

Soon two more F-4a4s arrived and folded their wings in to navigate narrow streets. Then the P.A. from the second one with black-tipped wings announces, You in the Wamecha. Turn off your power and get out. You’re under arrest. The P.A. speaker is almost deafening and can be heard for blocks; I instinctively covered my ears.

I scrunch my nose a little and say, Like that’s going to work. Couldn’t the jet thing blow away that old Wamecha, Lander?

Lander, still looking up, says, Yes, it could. He looks concerned as he says, Lakota, we should try to get back; if they fire, the shrapnel could be really dangerous. I nod in agreement.

We could hear the P.A. key up again, but before the F-4a4 could start telling the Wamecha what to do, two doors on each side of the Wamecha opened as two strange weapons appeared.

The pilot in the F-4a4 still had the PA on when the pilot said, Base, this is Beta One. There is something strange about this Wamecha; it has two weapons of some sort coming...

I glance at Lander, saying, Look at that, Lander, the Wamecha has two funny guns. I wonder what they... He grabs my hand and says, Run! Before we take a step in, it fires.

Chapter 6

Lander

My ears are ringing , and my eyes sting. The blast threw me and Lakota back, and we hit the pavement hard. Dust surrounded us, and I couldn't see. I'm feeling around blindly while calling out Lakota's name.

Chunks of brick and steel are under my hands as I search, my heart pounding in my chest as fear starts to take over. I shout, Lakota! Still no response.

I can hear the two war machines moving away from us. I have no idea which direction they are heading, but at least they are not hanging around here, trading shots above us. My hand brushes something soft, and I squeeze it. It isn't her, or human. I toss it to the side and continue the search. I push forward, but maybe I should be looking behind me; I can't see anything in this damn dust cloud.

I stop for a moment and listen. It's unnaturally quiet now. The ringing in my ears starts to fade, so I focus again, and then I think I can hear something, breathing. I crawl in the direction of the soft breaths and finally, my hands grab something warm. I pull myself closer and find her body, pulling it closer to me.

She isn't moving, and I still can't see through the dust. I push my ear to her chest, listening. A heartbeat. A tear runs down my face as I hug her tighter, and when I do, she coughs and lets out a groan.

Can you hear me? Can you talk, can you? she places her hand on my face, and I stop speaking. She's alive. I can't tell if she's okay, but she's alive. After a moment, the dust settles down enough for me to see her. She looks okay, with a small cut above her eye, but no visible broken bones.

She coughs again before saying, I'm fine, Lander. I think I got the wind knocked out of me is all.

She finally opens her eyes and meets mine. Are you crying?

I smile a bit and say, Dust. S

he squeezes my arm and says, Dust, sure. If that's your story.

I begin to stand up while helping her to her feet. Anything feel broken? I ask as she dusts herself off.

Nothing feels too bad, just sore.

I look at her and feel a sharp pain run