Chapter 8: Escape

Aesia and Tristan boarded the shuttle sent down to collect them. The pilot took off once they were seated behind her. Tristan was fascinated to see another Sicceian. This one was, slightly older than Aesia, but had the same slim body shape, white almost silver hair, and similar fine elfin features. While he had become accustomed to the gentle warm touch of Aesia's mind, this woman's mind was hard and controlled. He did note her eyes were sky-blue like Aesia's were when he first met her. He glanced at her sitting opposite him, her eyes were almost green now. She caught his look and thought and used her computer to converse with him so the pilot wouldn't overhear them.

Tristan, there is something I need to tell you, but I have to be sure first.

Her emotions washed over him. She mouthed the words "I love you" and smiled.

He smiled back. "I love you too."

About half an hour later, a large black ship emerged from the darkness of space. Tristan could see through the front ports that it was a long cone-shaped vessel with what appeared to be a bridge structure toward the forward end of the ship. The pilot manoeuvred their small craft to a large, open docking bay at the side of the ship. Once the bay was pressurised, they opened the door and stepped out onto the deck of the larger ship. A cacophony of minds and an overwhelming power assailed his unprepared mind. He staggered, Aesia grabbed his arm.

"Tristan!"

He passed out.

Aesia caught him and laid him gently on the deck. A Marine guard had assembled to meet them. The officer looked down at Tristan and she sensed undisguised contempt and loathing. He shouted at a couple of Marines.

"Pick that up and take it away. Now!"

"Yes, sir!"

They picked him up roughly. Aesia clenched her fists. "Wait!"

The Marines hesitated and looked at their officer, he jerked his head and they continued away.

"Where are you taking him?"

"It will be taken care of," he spat. "As for you, follow me."

Aesia followed the officer to the executive area of the ship. From his demeanour, she knew with increasing fear she had made a terrible mistake. He had seen her eyes and she sensed the hostility and disgust emanating from him. He motioned her to a small interview room, turned and shut the door behind him, leaving her alone. She was angry with herself that she had let her emotions cloud her judgment. Her condition had not helped her, but she was now fearful at what might happen next. The cold of the metal chair seemed to seep into her; she shivered involuntarily.

The door opened and the captain walked in. Aesia stood, her arms held stiffly against her side as she clenched and unclenched her fists, but still her fingers trembled. The captain's ice blue glare shone like an unforgiving spotlight. She tried not to think how strange the captain's neon bright blue eyes looked after the months alone with Tristan and his human eyes.

The silence stretched out. Icy tendrils of fear crept across her chest, tightening, squeezing, making it difficult to breathe.

"Do you know what you have done?" His voice came even, cold.

"Yes, sir!" She tried to swallow but her mouth was dry, arid. Her fingers fluttered over her still flat belly. Of course she knew what she had done. Why hadn't she told Tristan of this impossible thing? But she had to be sure. As soon as they had arrived on board the ship's main computer confirmed her suspicions.

"After your behaviour, there is no choice, no other option. You will be dishonourably discharged."

"Sir, what will happen to Tristan?"

The captain's face flashed with anger at her insubordinate interruption. "I assume you mean that creature you have been with? It will be studied, questioned, and terminated for dissection."

Bile rose in her throat. Her stomach twisted and sweat prickled on her brow. Dissection? Terminated? "But Sir!"

She could see the captain held no mercy in his eyes. Tristan's fate was sealed. She clamped a trembling hand over her mouth, and with one last snort of contempt, the captain turned and walked out shutting the door behind him. By bringing him she had as good as killed him herself. She sat down staring at the blank closed door. Her vision blurred, tears stung her eyes, and emptiness engulfed her. Several minutes later a guard appeared and she was marched down to a shuttle bay, put on a shuttle, and then transferred to a supply ship, which was to be sent back to Home World for re-supplying the fleet.

During the journey home, the expected nausea and sickness started. She was kept in isolation. The only contact she had was when they came to shave her head, marking her out as a thing of ridicule and disgrace. She lived in a daze. Everything happening to someone else, not her. She hoped she would soon wake from the nightmare.

The marines carrying Tristan finally reached an unmarked door, opened it, and threw him roughly in. The door slammed shut.

Tristan's head swam. A point of light rushed towards him. Like an express train exiting a long tunnel, the sudden bright light hurt his eyes. He blinked and squinted. He found himself in a vast hall with hundreds of people talking at once. The noise was too much. Everyone shouting to be heard. He put his hands over his ears and sank to his knees. They seemed to come closer, pressing in on him. Fear and pain slowly gave way to anger; it rose from his chest upward like a giant black spider. He stood then pushed back against the crush.

"Shut up! Shut Up! SHUT UP!" Anger flowed through him and with it power, he had control. It was like a door slamming shut. He opened his eyes. The people crowding him stood silent and motionless. One remained, alien, machine like, pressing against him. He faced it, hands clenched, knuckles white. He fought it, with his mind pushing against the pressure. It resisted, he pushed harder, and it suddenly folded and was gone. He spun round, the hall burst into a million pieces followed by darkness and silence. Emptiness filled his mind his consciousness swirled round the edge. With an effort he pulled back and turned away.

Tristan groaned. The warm presence that had become part of him had gone. He opened his eyes, there was a glowing ceiling panel above him merging into a featureless white wall. He closed his eyes, disorientated. Where was he, where was Aesia? His heart missed a beat. "Aesia?"

He sat up, and his churning stomach caused him to retch. He took a shuddering breath and rested his forehead against the cool featureless wall. His head throbbed, where was she? He reached out with his mind, but found nothing except the babble of voices he could now control. He shut them off and looked around the room. He suddenly noticed a strange sweet smell of different alien bodies. There were four other people in the cell with him, one female and three males. He assumed they were Mylians. He had not taken much notice of them when he had rescued Aesia from them on Earth. Their features looked solid and heavier than the elf-like Sicceians. They were bald, with low ridges that started just above their forehead and swept down to the nape of their necks. The males had a slightly higher central ridge. Their eyes were red, similar to a human albino.

The female crouched in the corner, crying softly, one of the males comforting her. The other two sat on one of two benches pushed against the room's far wall. The three males looked at Tristan and he sensed fear. He tried to touch their minds. There was nothing, blank. They apparently did not have the same telepathic ability as the Sicceians, and it confirmed to him the reason why the ship Aesia and he had taken did not have a computer with a neural interface.

Tristan swung his legs round and sat facing them on a bench opposite the others in the room. They watched him with their round human like eyes. The female stopped crying and turned towards him as well. He made a quick assessment. From their sorry state the other occupants of the room would not be a threat to him. He leaned back on the bench against the cold hard metal of the wall and shut his eyes.

Things were not going well! Aesia had vanished; there was no longer a presence he could sense. He swallowed; he had become used to Aesia being there, and now a part of him was missing. He was surprised to realise that he missed her presence so much. He wondered where she had gone. He let his mind drift and explore. He could hear the many minds of the Sicceians, but he could not sense Aesia.

He remembered she had been hiding something, was this it? Had she intended to betray him all along? This was obviously a holding cell. She had assured him he would be treated fairly, sent home if he wanted. Was that going to happen? If she were on the ship she would be working to put things right but she had left. His stomach knotted; that can't be it, surely?

He put the thought of her and the void she left in a corner of his mind. He was locked in a cell of an alien vessel with other alien prisoners, far from home and no help from any quarter. He may well soon be fighting for his life.

He brought his attention back to the room. The other occupants were regarding him silently. He said "Hello" in English, then thought better of it and said, "Hello, my name is Tristan," in Aesia's language.

One of the males said. "Hello. I am Da'ren. I have never seen anyone like you before. Have your people been conquered by them as well?" He nodded his head at the closed door.

Tristan frowned. "No."

Da'ren shrugged. "Only a matter of time."

Tristan asked him what he meant. The Mylian told Tristan the Sicceians looked on other races with contempt. As far as they were concerned, anyone not a Sicceian was a lower form of life to be used as slaves, or worse.

The Mylians were a peaceful people who were just starting to explore their own solar system when the Sicceians found them. The Sicceians overran their world and used them as slaves. After being under their cruel yoke for several hundred years, the Mylians managed to rebel and fight back. They had regained their world while the Sicceians were occupied fighting another alien race they had found at the edge of their space. The new aliens closely matched the Sicceians in technology and power, and things had gone badly for the Sicceians for a while. It was during this time that the Mylians managed to break away. They had been left in peace for over fifty years but knew that the Sicceians would be back one day.

The Sicceians eventually won the war and took revenge by systematically wiping out all trace of their defeated enemy. During this time, Da'ren's people had been preparing for the inevitable attack. The Sicceians would certainly not allow former slaves any freedom. The initial confrontations went well for the Mylians, but the tide was turning, and the Sicceians were gaining the upper hand.

Da'ren and his crew were on a supply trip to one of their colony worlds when a Sicceian fleet had attacked them. They were taken prisoner and were being questioned and tortured. The Sicceians thought they were on a spying mission. Two of his crew had already been tortured, shot and killed. Just as he was finishing his story, the door opened and another female was pushed in. She fell immediately, the door closed, and the others rushed over to her. She was covered in blood and one of her eyes had been gouged out.

Tristan was shocked. If what Da'ren had told him was true these Sicceian's were the galaxy's version of the Nazis. His mouth went dry and he tried to swallow. He loved one of them. They had shared everything for months, joined in body and mind. Had she abandoned him? Had she manipulated him, just played him, used him to get back safely to her people. No! It was not possible. Icy fingers gripped his heart. He looked round, the evidence was before him and she was gone.

"Da'ren, what would happen to a Sicceian who found a new resource rich planet?"

"Oh, they would be well rewarded. Rich beyond their wildest dreams."

Tristan's stomach churned. He stood and punched the featureless wall with clenched fists. "You gullible fucking idiot, Tristan!" The Mylians cowered from his anger. He sat down, his mind sinking into his own private hell.

The cell door opened and two guards stood either side of an officer. She pointed at Tristan, and the two burly guards stepped round her. One drew a pistol. "Stand up." Tristan ignored him. The guard hit him on the face with the pistol butt. Pain pulled Tristan from the pit of his despair. He touched his cheek, then regarded his bloody fingers.

"Stand up!" The guard repeated raising his pistol for another blow. Tristan stood. "Now Stand still." The other guard carrying a pole with a loop on the end commanded. Tristan faced the guard with the pistol. "Stand still, animal!" He smashed the pistol into the side of Tristan's face for a second time. Tristan staggered, and the pain exploded in his head. He gritted his teeth, the warm cloying taste of blood in his mouth. He stood still, fists clenched. The guard with the pole forced the loop over Tristan's head and pulled it tight. The wire cut into his neck. His breath caught, eyes bulging. Tristan fell to his knees.

His vision blurring, Tristan looked up as the guard eased the tension on the wire. The female Sicceian stood with a smile playing on the corners of her mouth. "Bring it."

The wire tightened, forcing Tristan to his feet, and the one holding the gun clamped his wrists with cuffs. He was pulled out of the cell and across a corridor to a small room with two chairs facing one another across a plain white table. The guard forced him to sit on one of the chairs, clipping the pole to something behind the chair Tristan could not see. The wire held him securely.

The officer sat on the edge of the table opposite him, her blue eyes boring into him. She leaned forward, the smile still playing around her lips. Tristan caught a faint smell of the same scent as Aesia. His chest tightened, stomach twisted into a knot. He glowered at the officer.

"So what are you?" her voice soft and friendly.

Tristan said nothing, holding her stare in silence. Her smile broadened. She moved quickly, hitting him hard where the guard had hit him with the gun. The pain swept across his face, forcing him against the wire noose. It took a few seconds for his vision to clear. He blinked, his eyes watering. She had returned to her relaxed position on the edge of the table. "What are you?" His mouth filling with blood he spat, red splatters ran down her leg.

He grinned at her. "Oops, need to get that cleaned."

She glanced at the red mess on her uniform, and turning her neon blue eyes on him she made a hissing sound between clenched teeth. She hit him twice, both sides of his face. Tristan clenched his bloody jaw.

He stared directly into her eyes. "Fuck you!"

She leant forward grasping his chin in her hand. "Oh, so you will fight me? Wonderful! Those animals in the cell with you are no fun. You are different, I am going to really enjoy this." With her other hand she twisted his fingers back, further and further. Tristan gasped at the pain and she giggled. "Oh so much more fun and if you refuse to cooperate I get to use a mind probe," she sighed. "It has been a long time since I used one of those."

He could sense her telepathic abilities, her arrogance and superiority. Anger and pain cursed through his blood like molten fire. He held his breath, forcing his pain forward at her unsuspecting mind. Her eyes widened in shock, her smile became fixed on her face.

"You ... No! It's not possible." Her shield crumbled easily against the hot fire of his anger. Tristan felt his face ache from the blows, the ache increased as he pushed her personality aside, squeezing and twisting. He had control. Her mind opened to him like a blossoming flower, fleeting thoughts, emotions, images of inflicting pain, cruelty and ... fear.