Chapter 14

Preliator was on the six guards before they had time to react. His hand flashed outwards, yanking a plasma rifle out of one of their arms. The massive gun looked like a child's toy compared to his enlarged body and hands, but it still worked just fine on the Ghalerans. He fired twice, two of the guards immediately crumpling to the floor. He pointed the gun at a third, their leader, but did not fire.

"Drop your weapons," Preliator growled, "and the janitors in this place might not have to wipe you off the walls when I'm done."

The four guards quickly complied, tossing their rifles aside. They were brave, not crazy.

"Now," Preliator said smiling, "you're going to answer my questions, or you're going to die. There are only three of them, so this should be easy; sorry, but it isn't multiple choice though. You might actually have to think for a second or two before answering. The first thing I want to know is how long I was in that cell before I woke up. Second, I want to know the status of my crew. Third, I want to know exactly when the Ghaleran attack on Earth was carried out."

The leader, who still had a gun pointed towards his forehead, answered in a quavering telepathic voice. "I saw you brought in about two weeks ago. I don't know exactly why they kept you in there for so long before letting you wake up, but I think that they wanted to interrogate the rest of your crew first. Your crew is being detained in the main brig of this station, one level directly up from here. As far as I know, the attack on Earth was carried out yesterday. I believe it took the form of a nuclear bombardment."

Preliator quickly reached into the guard's mind to make sure that he had not been lied to. Finding that the guard had been completely honest, he commanded the guards to lead him to the main brig. He was there in less than a minute, looking through shimmering blue energy fields at his crew, who had all been herded into cells not even close to large enough to be comfortable. With a few blasts of the heavy plasma rifle, the shield controls were shorted out, his crew spilling into the corridor.

Auctorita smiled as she walked over to him. "You look a little different than normal. New haircut?"

Realizing that he was still almost three meters tall, Preliator shrunk himself back down to his normal size.

"Okay guys," he said to his crew, "put those four Ghalerans in one of the smaller, unused cells and activate the security field. I want a headcount from all heads of departments. If anybody is missing, I want to know about it."

The department heads quickly did as ordered, relaying the information back to him that they had lost fourteen of their ninety-eight crewmen. Preliator suppressed his emotions for now; there would be time to grieve later. Now was the time for action.

"Auctorita," he said in a calculating voice, "I have not encountered a single Ghaleran except for that squadron of guards. There were no guards anywhere near their prison... are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

She nodded. "Yeah, it's definitely a trap- but there's not much we can about it, is there?"

He nodded in agreement, leading the large group towards the lift.

"Guys, listen up," he began, quieting them, "maybe sixteen of us can go up at a time, give or take. En route to the brig, I discovered from one of those Ghaleran guards that the Acer One is moored at level three, primary docking area. We're going to retake the ship. I expect this to be a trap, so be on guard. Department heads, organize your men by rank; lowest rank will be going up first. Secure the corridor leading to the airlocks. The command staff will be the last up. Get to it."

It was several minutes later when it was finally the command staff's time to rejoin the crew. Preliator, Auctorita, Lieutenant Johnson (the helmsman), and Lieutenant J.G. Abesamis (chief engineer) stepped onto the lift. Preliator thumbed the control that would take them to level three, but nothing happened. He jammed his thumb against the control harder, but still managed to elicit no response.

He quickly realized that the trap had been sprung. He had been expecting it to occur when they were just about to take the ship, on level three, not here. That false assumption was driven from his mind at the sight of the Ghaleran that was walking towards them from the end of the long corridor. The lone fighter completely ignored the four hollering guards inside of one of the cells as he passed them, his eyes locked on Preliator. Preliator sensed the aura surrounding the Ghaleran, and placed the feeling from his memories; it was the power he had felt emanating from himself in the Liodammian dream world. This had to be a Ghaleran Warrior.

That was one of the things from the dream world that had been accurately described; the effects of Omni-energy on a physical body. But there was one major difference between the dream world Ghalerans and the real-world Ghalerans; never in their history had the Ghalerans ever given Omni-energy to a member of another species.

Preliator raised his heavy plasma rifle, carefully targeting the chest of the approaching Ghaleran. He fired blast after blast, twenty flashes of plasma impacting the Warrior with a one hundred percent accuracy rate. The blasts had been dissipated by the Warrior's powers though, and did him no harm.

"Damn." Preliator concluded.

He was about to attempt to attack the Warrior physically when his thoughts were dispelled by a wave of energy impacting him in his gut. He was flung backwards to impact with the titanium wall of the lift, denting it- and his back- severely. He was unconscious before he could even begin to transform.

"Big mistake. Now you have to deal with me." Auctorita growled.

She leapt forward, transforming mid-lunge into a massive cat, over three meters long. Her ten centimeter long fangs sank into the Warrior's right arm as she collided with him, sending them both sprawling on the floor. He was barely fazed however, and with one shake of his arm, she went flying, her head colliding with the corridor wall. He brought his hand back, charging it with energy. He would make sure that she did not interfere with his task again.

But before the Warrior had a chance to throw the energy he gathered, a strong arm gripped his wrist. He turned to look into the face of an incredibly furious Preliator.

"You picked the wrong man's fiancée to mess with, bud." Preliator snarled.

His hand phased partially out of existence, becoming Quevian energy. He reached through the Warrior's chest, his hand re-solidifying around the Ghaleran's heart. With one good squeeze, the heart stopped beating. For good measure, Preliator also reached into his victim's brain, turning the wrinkly mass into insubstantial mush. With a jolt, like being shocked by a particularly powerful bolt of electricity, Preliator jumped backwards. His entire arm phased in and out of existence, the muscles in the rest of his body beginning to spasm powerfully. It was nothing like Preliator had ever experienced... it felt like he was being empowered and yet being destroyed at the same time.

He collapsed to the ground, writhing in agony. Auctorita, fully recovered, was at his side in moments, checking his vitals and attempting to calm him down.

"Honey, can you hear me?" she asked him.