Trekachaw

by B R Flores

  “That’s not cool, Victis,” snapped Azha. “Sorry, Ginger.”

  Victis smirked at Azha, then proceeded to introduce himself, “I am a Ryquat-Trekachaw and Captain of a Battleship.”

  “Oh my goodness, are there anymore aliens’ in the house?” Ginger asked.

  “We are the only two,” Azha assured.

  Beverly stirred in her bed and moaned in pain, “Do I hear Cole?”

  Ginger leaned over and whispered into her ear, “You’re dreaming, go back to sleep.”

  “What’s wrong with my mom? How long has she been like this?”

  “Mom doesn’t have long to live, she has stage four cancer and is in a lot of pain.”

  Azha knelt down next to the bed, “She doesn’t have to die. If a Quizan merges with her, she’ll be young and healthy again.”

  Ginger kissed his mom’s forehead, “If what you say is possible, do it now before it’s too late.”

  “I’ll pick out a Quizan for you,” Victis grumbled, then flashed into a ball of light as he disappeared through the wall.

  The boy was approximately four years old and surprisingly unaffected by the giant Trekachaws. He wiggled off Ginger’s lap and ran over to Azha before she could catch him. “Are you a spaceman?”

  Azha sat down on the floor next to him, “Why yes, young man. I guess I am a spaceman.”

  The boy climbed up on Azha’s lap and pointed towards the bed, “Are you going to save my grandma, spaceman?”

  ‘What did the boy say?’ Azha asked himself. “Ginger… why does the boy call my mom Grandma?”

  Ginger crossed her legs and curtly replied, “If you are Cole, then the boy is your son… Cole Jr.”

  While waiting for Victis, they spoke of the past and of the future as Ginger attended to her daily routine. Cole was pleased – thrilled – that he had a son and the opportunity to spend time with him.

  Early that evening, two white lights flew through the bedroom wall. One morphed into Victis, the other floated next to Azha. Cole Jr. clapped his hands together and squealed in delight. She flashed red and darted to the far corner of the room flickering about.

  “Do not fear the Human quiey, he’s harmless,” smiled Azha.

  To Ginger, Azha’s words sounded beautiful, like seagulls soaring over ocean waves.

  Victis snapped, “Tic-toc Azha, get on with the merge, we’ve lost another day.”

  To his credit, Victis had been patient, but that was wearing thin.

  Beverly moaned in agony as she twisted and turned in her bed trying to find comfort. Victis was right, no more distractions. Azha directed his attention to the Quizan, “What’s your name?”

  “Zeta, I am from the Kismet Ebb Tribe,” flickering from red to white.

  Zygo was close to Zeta’s family for most of his two hundred and ninety-seven years. She was the sixth generation and the last survivor of a legacy that held great honor and respect. Victis chose wisely for Azha’s mother.

  Zeta insisted that everyone leave except for Victis. Azha picked up Cole Jr. and asked Ginger to leave the room. Ginger let go of Beverly’s hand and scooted off the bed with tears in her eyes. “I’m praying for you.”

  Watching his mommy cry, Cole Jr. began to cry, too. Azha escorted them out, then shut the bedroom door behind him. Torn between opposing souls, Azha fought Cole who was demanding a presence and growing stronger by the minute. He held back a dire urge to leave that wretched house and Earth, along with all her bad memories.

  “Are you ready?” Victis asked.

  Zeta flickered Yes and turned into silver. She drifted across the bedroom and floated above the old woman. Her light sparkled as she slowly descended into the top of the Human’s head. The cold, diseased body glowed beneath the thin white sheets. Beverly’s face relaxed and she appeared peaceful. A calm euphoria filled the room and her body exploded into a blinding silver light igniting a fiery ball. No matter how much he wanted to witness the miracle, he looked away.

  The old woman was gone and in her place sat a beautiful young Trekachaw. She appeared afraid, then scooted to the edge of the bed and tried to stand up. But her legs buckled, and she crumpled to the floor. Ginger flung the bedroom door open and froze, awestruck by the creature staring at Azha.

  “Ginger, help me. I’m scared, what is that?” Beverly pleaded.

  She ran to Beverly and wrapped her arms around the alien she had once called mom.

  “That’s Cole. He saved you.”

  Cole Jr. and Azha watched Ginger help Beverly back to her bed. It looked odd that she was still pampering the much larger Trekachaw. Nonetheless, these were the roles to which they were accustomed.

  Beverly sat up with a puzzled look on her face. “I remember who I am. Well, not exactly. I remember being here and on Palatu. Cole, is that you inside Azha?”

  “Yes, mom.”

  “I knew it. People thought I was crazy. In my heart, I knew you weren’t dead. Come here and give me a hug,” insisted Beverly.

  Azha walked over to Cole’s mom feeling himself losing control. Beverly wrapped her arms around him and whispered, “I missed you, son.”

  Victis was tapping his foot, “We must go. Beverly, Zeta… Find Pax, and stay with him on the ship until I return.”

  Azha was relieved, he wanted out of there, whereas Cole was resistant and still worried about his family.

  “Ginger, will you merge with a Quizan?” Azha asked.

  “Yes. I’d follow you anywhere.”

  Victis intervened, “Azha, we’ll return for Ginger and Cole Jr. after the other merges are completed.”

  Zeta, Azha, and Victis, streaked through the bedroom walls, finding the seclusion of night was upon them. This was perfect, fewer prying eyes to worry about. Cole was content for the time being, allowing Azha to be in control.

  Victis followed Azha to a Veterans’ hospital located in La Jolla, California. Most of the staff had gone home for the evening. It was easy to elude those few who worked the night shift. Floating from room to room, they found what seemed to be an endless number of beds filled with severely wounded soldiers who were physically and mentally broken. In one of the infirmaries, they found twenty-four men and fifteen women who were unable to consent due to horrific brain injuries. Victis morphed into body form, “We’ll start here. These Humans deserve another chance.”

  Azha wholeheartedly agreed; they were first in line for Quizan approval.

  The mission was back on track. Victis and Azha returned to the ship and informed the Quizans of the superb candidates. Every Quizan volunteered to merge with the Human Veteran Heroes. Azha noticed a very attractive female at the back of the room. He pointed at her to step forward. She stared blankly at him for a moment, then pointed at herself. Azha smiled and nodded yes. Quickly, she made her way through the crowd to the front. She was a perfect match for Ginger.

  “What is your name?” Azha asked.

  “Quetzal, from Cavern Village. We knew each other before you became a Trekachaw.”

  Once again, memory loss plagued him. Indeed, there were still plenty of blank pages to fill. He glanced around the room looking for Victis to get approval. Damn, he must have snuck out again. He hated when Victis disappeared like that. The ship was enormous. Perturbed, Azha excused himself and left the Quizan quarters to search for him. After asking at least twenty crewmen, he located Victis inside the captains’ office having a serious private conversation with Akio. Judging by their gloomy faces, whatever they were talking about had to be bad news. Apprehensive to interrupt them, Azha lightly tapped on the door and waited for an invitation. Giving a thumbs-up, Victis waved him in.

  It was worse than he’d thought. Victis looked visibly disturbed. He thanked Akio for his loyalty, reminding him that if he disobeyed the order, he too would be in violation of the Fidus Achates Decree. Akio stood firm on his decision to remain on board. They shook hands, then Akio left the office. The bridge crewmen stopped what they were doing to hear the verdict. “It’s a go,” announced
Akio.

  Clapping their hands to show support, they knew something Azha did not. But whatever it was, the crew was prepared for the worst-case scenario, or the best… either way.

  “What happened?” Azha asked.

  Victis could hide neither his despair nor his disappointment.

  “While we were on Earth, a Viceroy Councilman viewed several of the Trekachaws performing crew assignments on an open channel. I should have told the Trekachaws they were not cleared for duty until the Viceroys gave approval. My officers tried to cover for me, but the Council did not listen. I’ve been relieved of duty with instructions to terminate all missions and immediately return to Zaurak. Akio accepted a promotion as interim Captain only to give me time to complete the merges. Once the Council realizes we’ve disobeyed their directives, my battleship will be classified as a Brigand-Ship. The officers and crewmen will be classified as criminals and guilty of treason, punishable by death. That’s not all, there’s more bad news. Akio was ordered to detain the Trekachaws and transfer them to the Science Investigation Division, S.I.D. I fear they’ll categorize us as an unorthodox species creating a threat to the balance of nature within the Galaxy.”

  “Let them try,” growled Azha.

  “I have more bad news. They’ve reinstated the bad Ryquat, Doug Smyth as Captain of my ship and Administrator of Palatu’s Mining Operations. That’s the bad news. Do want to hear the good news?”

  Azha was bright purple and spitting out profanities so fast, Victis could not understand a word he was saying.

  Victis continued, “The Umduls offered us sanction and will defend our mission, even if it means separating from the Fidus Achates. I can’t see the Ryquats surviving this war without the Umduls’ support. Cpt. Pify, Cpt. Phera, Cpt. Choan, Vopar, and Duro will continue to orbit Palatu. Belton, Deneb, and Vious will remain on Palatu.”

  What bothered Azha the most was Victis’s punishment. If it weren’t for him, the Quizans would have been slaughtered to extinction.

  “I swear Victis, this is not over. We’ll finish what we started.”

  Victis looked defeated, but he nodded.

  Determined as ever, the two Trekachaws flew to Earth with thirty-nine Quizans at their side to begin the merges.

  The V.A. infirmary came alive with sparkling lights dancing in anticipation. Victis landed next to Azha to orchestrate the sequence of silver lights above the forsaken souls lying dormant on their pillows. As the lights vanished into the comatose heads, a glow encompassed them, like the eclipse of a star. Silver lights exploded with each merge until darkness revealed the creation of thirty-nine new Trekachaws.

  The courageous veterans turned into energy and, in a swirl of light, flew through the hospital walls en route to the battleship. Freed from their suffering Human bodies, they landed inside the Quizan quarters grateful to begin their new lives. The remaining sixty one Quizans marveled at their magnificent metamorphosis. Now more than ever, they yearned for their own.

  Time was of the utmost importance. The mission had to be on a fast-track due to the looming threat of Fidus Achates Council retribution. To complete the merges before daybreak, Azha suggested asking the wounded Veterans. All things considered, they were a natural fit and accessible. The Quizans were briefed and warned to remain in energy until they merged. The battleship buzzed with flickering lights darting everywhere in anticipation. For now, one homesick Quizan was left behind awaiting her merge with Ginger.

  The light show was entertaining, bringing smiles to the crew. All at once the swarm of lights were gone, then reappeared in space on the monitor screens. Like shimmering waves of sequins, they followed the curves of the sleek black hull. Liberated from fear, the Quizans orchestrated a synthesized dance. If day break had not been around the corner, Victis would have loved to dance with the Quizans in space.

  The main wing of the V.A. Hospital was massive, towering far above the ground. Floating through walls from room to room, they found young and old wounded soldiers asleep in their beds. Azha had located an infirmary that housed patients with horrific physical injuries. Unlike the first thirty-nine merges, these Humans were mentally sound and painfully aware of their circumstances.

  A swarm of Quizans poured into the infirmary covering the ceiling in swirling red flames. A young, dark-haired vet sat up in his bed and stared in silence at the ceiling. After coming to the realization that he was awake, he whispered loud enough to awaken the young man sleeping soundly in the adjacent bed. “Wake up, the ceilings on fire. We need to get out of here.”

  The sleepy young vet opened his eyes and became mesmerized by the swirling red flame.

  “Yeah, I see it. I don’t think its fire. It’s not hot.”

  A seasoned old man sat up in his bed, “I see it, too. You’re right, it’s not fire.”

  By now all the sleeping men had awoken and were sitting up in their beds fixated on the spectacular, swirling, red flames. Azha and Victis descended from the ceiling and morphed into body form in the furthest corner of the infirmary. Azha expected the Humans to either attack in self-defense or fear; curiously they did not. Several Humans asked each other if what they were seeing was real, or a dream.

  “I am real,” answered Azha. “Please allow me to explain why we’re here. We are an alien species called Trekachaws. I was a police officer on this planet. Now, I am half-Human, half-Quizan. We come here in need of soldiers to protect this region of space within the Orion Belt. If you wish to be whole again, we can make that possible. The red lights circling above are called Quizans. They can join bodies with you to create a new species like me. Life expectancy is five hundred years and you’ll have powers beyond anything you can imagine. I am giving you a chance to join me on a remarkable adventure few will ever experience. With that said, this is a one-way ticket. Do not volunteer if you have loved ones that you do not wish to leave. You will remember both lives, Human and Quizan. We are running out of time, but I will try to answer as many questions as possible.”

  A weathered old vet spoke-up, stating that he had a couple of questions. He scooted himself to the edge of the bed revealing the stubs of both his legs; he was also missing his left hand. The old vet was gruff and direct, not wasting any breath on trivial questions.

  “My name is Sergeant Swartwood, you can call me Clyde. What you’re tellin us… is all we gotta do is let one of them sparkly lights go into us and we’ll look like you? We’ll live five hundred years with none of our missing legs or ailments?”

  “Yes, that is exactly what I am saying,” replied Azha.

  “Well damn, sign me up son. I have no one here waiting for me.”

  This was encouraging; there had to be at least fifty Human males available for twenty-one male Quizans. The infirmary came alive with the red swirling flames flashing into sparkling silver. This was the chance for a new life, a new beginning for broken men who had sacrificed themselves in war.

  Victis was saddened by the crippled, brave men who scrambled from their beds into wheelchairs, elated at the inconceivable opportunity. Through all the excitement, Victis heard a muffled voice from across the room crying out for help. His cries were mournful and difficult to hear, thus drawing Victis to his bedside. The soldier’s voice was scarred and damaged from the tubes down his throat during countless surgeries to keep him alive. As he drew closer, Victis noticed that his cries had faded and now were not much louder than a whisper. The young man felt his heart pounding inside his chest, not knowing if anyone heard or cared. He struggled to move, and stared at the ceiling trapped in his bed. This had been his world for almost a year. This was not living. “Over here. Don’t leave me. I’m over here. I volunteer.”

  Victis hovered directly above the young man, curious to put a face with the voice. He was thin and pale and couldn’t have been more than twenty years old. His eyes appeared startled, then once again were filled with desperation to leave his shell of a body.

  “Can you move?” Victis asked.

  The young man’s fa
ce relaxed and his voice calmed, “No, I can’t move anything below my neck. An IED exploded while my squad was en route delivering supplies. Most of my squad died. I guess I’m lucky to be alive.”

  “What is your name?” Victis asked.

  “Private McBride, Cody McBride.”

  “How old are you?”

  “Twenty-two.”

  “Did you hear what you’re volunteering for?”

  “Yes Sir, I heard what you said about the lights. I’d be grateful for the chance and proud to be a soldier again.”

  “Then you shall be,” smiled Victis.

  Cody McBride and Clyde Swartwood were the first to merge. Soon after, the infirmary exploded into a blinding silver light. As the infirmary grew dim, shadows were cast revealing the Humans that remained. Azha was confident the Quizans had chosen wisely. He needed, no… he had to believe in their choices. Leaving the rest behind was gut wrenching. Proud men were begging to go. Although impossible, he wished he could’ve taken them all.

  The new Trekachaws were disciplined and dedicated. First order: Fly in formation to the battleship and await further instructions. For Victis and Azha, the Kigen mission was not finished. Twenty-four buzzing female Quizans awaited their merge in the hallway outside the infirmary. Lucky for them, Clyde Swartwood seemed to know where everyone was and every corner of the hospital. He volunteered to guide them through the maze of hallways and floors where female veterans were housed. No one had to be reminded that the night was growing short. Any further delays would be disastrous. Clyde was the break they needed. He ushered Azha, Victis and the flickering red lights to an elevator shaft where they whooshed to the 14th floor.

  There were fewer female patients, and most of them appeared young and weak. Azha and Victis morphed into body form. Scrutinizing the candidates, they decided to pick the best ones from a disappointing group.

  “Wake up,” clapping his hands, “I am Captain Victis. We’ve traveled to Earth in search of Human volunteers. Our mission is to create female Trekachaws. Volunteers will merge with one of those lights up there. They are female Quizans in energy form. I am a perfect example of a male Trekachaw. Enough said, I will consider some of you for volunteers.”