As the overseer continued his speech, Trydon couldn’t just stand there any longer. “This is bullshit. Something has to be done,” he told Mantis. He spoke quietly to avoid attracting any attention, and he avoided eye contact.
“Calm yourself, young one. This course of action will get you nowhere,” the Zantian advised.
“I am not going to die in here,” he promised in response.
“That is not a choice you can make,” said Mantis.
“And it’s not one that asshole will make for me either,” Trydon insisted.
Once Zurey had finished spreading his treacherous words across the compound, duties returned to normal.
“Fleiss,” Trydon approached her as they spoke through the wire fencing. “What else can you tell me about this place? Anything useful?”
“I’ve been studying the layout for ages, but without getting inside, it won’t matter,” she said.
“If we knew the layout of the place, we would have a better chance.” His face was littered with determination. “How would we obtain the floor plans or something to know our way around?” He asked.
Fleiss pointed through the fence, “You see that small tower, adjacent to the main complex?”
He quickly identified what she spoke of—a cylinder in the compound. It was obviously well-built. The glass in the high windows was clearly reinforced, and many guards, monitors and filing cabinets were inside.
“That’s what I believe is a security office,” she said. “They should have layouts and blueprints somewhere in there, though I don’t know how you’ll get in there.”
Trydon took a moment to study the surroundings. “You see that railing on the roof of the tower? That means there’s a way onto the roof. If there’s a way for them to go up, then there’s a way for me to go down and into that room,” Trydon explained.
“You’ll never make it onto the roof,” Fleiss warned.
“There’s always a way,” he promised her.
“No, it’s too dangerous,” Mantis advised.
Laurelle and Trydon stood with Mantis elsewhere in the sand infested compound.
“You have any better suggestions? Because I’m all ears,” Trydon asked.
“I think it’s a good idea,” Laurelle chimed in, innocent and exuberant.
“Right now, it’s the best we’ve got,” Trydon continued.
“You lost your tail because you disobeyed one of them. Imagine what they would do to you if you were caught in there,” Mantis felt obligated to warn him.
“I know, but the reward is far greater than the risk,” Trydon insisted.
Nightfall had arrived, and the moonlight devoured Omega. Slaves were locked in their sleeping quarters at night, something Trydon would have to overcome to complete his objective. The bold Tarian had known that the door only locks from the outside. However, he also knew there was only a simple lever on the other side to unlock it. Trydon went down to his knees. He knew he was the only one awake. The room was filled with at least fifty Tarians, give or take. He forced his fingers down his throat, and the gag immediately took effect. He felt the lump in his throat as it pushed to escape. With the first try unsuccessful, he went again. The sound of rushing saliva while he gagged leapt across the practically dead room.
This is going to be very uncomfortable.
Tonight’s slop dinner spilt out over the floor. The white, lumpy sludge, to his surprise, didn't look much different from when it went down. He immediately dropped and began rummaging through his dinner. Feeling the moist paste between his fingers, it was then he noticed it had engulfed someone’s foot. He didn’t bother to do anything, it was better than waking the fellow up.
Unsanitary much?
Then, he felt it, a metal disk about the size of his palm. As he lifted it, the magnetic disk almost instantly shot toward the door inches away. The large bang echoed across the room of still bodies. Trydon cringed as he looked around to make sure no one had awoken. The sudden sound of someone groaning made him freeze as his muscles tensed beyond control. The man who had vomit on his foot was simply stretching.
‘It had to be him of all people,’ Trydon thought.
As the man stretched, his arm dipped in the puke.
Oh, that’s just great.
Trydon’s face during the whole ordeal scrunched up only more and more. Then, the unsuspecting fellow scratched his head with his vomit ridden hand. Then, he simply returned to his still, lifeless state.
Can this get any worse? Can we skip this scene? What? Oh , right, important to the story, blah, blah, blah.
“Really sorry, pal,” Trydon whispered to himself as he turned back to continue his mission. He stiffly slid the disk across the door to move it into position, then pushed it upwards. Nothing happened. He tried again. Still nothing. Once more, and failure once again.
“Fuck,” Trydon whispered in frustration. He began to look around the room in hopes of finding an alternative. He quickly realised his former plan was his only option. Trydon tried again with no luck. He groaned as his patience wore thinner. He lifted the magnet again, and a screech and clunk could be heard on the other side. The lever had raised, releasing the door lock. Trydon slid the hefty door open just enough to squeeze through, being sure to close and lock it to avoid any potential trouble. Trydon didn’t know much beyond his quarters and the leisure yard, so he stuck to the corridors and pathways he was already familiarised with. The interior of the facility was well-lit, with bright fluorescent lights everywhere. The halls were grimy, dirty, grey, and dull. Trydon reached a fork in the road; the path to the right was unknown to him, but he knew where the left path went. He was quick to turn left, and at that moment, he saw it. A patrol of several guards approached. The guards made their way right towards him as they were engaged in their own conversations. Trydon remained still for a moment. The sudden shock and fear locked him in place for a brief few seconds; a blanket of worries laid over him and kept his anxiety strong.
Trydon darted back around the corner and looked frantically for a solution, a place to hide, or anything that wouldn’t lead to the alternative of being caught. He couldn’t begin to imagine what would happen to him. A thousand thoughts raced through his head, as his mind pinwheeled into chaos. One side was panicking; the other was desperately searching.
The approaching footsteps of the guards got closer while their voices became louder, and Trydon’s body was getting sweatier.
Oh, come on, man. Move. Do something.
As he tried opening several locked doors, his hands were overly shaky. His nerves were out of control, and his mind pressed the big red panic button continuously. The guards made their way around the corner. They walked down the corridor and continued on their way. Trydon had managed to hide behind some vertical piping. He released a huge sigh of relief until his lungs were completely drained. At last he was able to press onward.
Trydon was very much aware that the refinery never stops. Slaves sleeping during the day would work at night, so there was still plenty of activity going on in the compound. He reached a set of stairs that usually he would head down one floor and head out to the leisure yards. This time, however, if he wanted to reach the security room, he had to continue past the staircase. It was time to venture into unknown territory. He suddenly felt even more anxious, if that were possible. From this point on, Trydon knew he couldn’t navigate by memory; he had to rely on his wits and cunning to make it through—something he began to doubt very much all of a sudden.
‘Here we go,’ he thought to himself.
As he continued towards his goal, Trydon instantly disappeared. Another guard came through a door and carried on with his duties. When the guard finally moved past, Trydon dropped down from the several lockers where he had remained out of sight. He had a general idea which direction to take, thanks to studying the security room and the surrounding areas from the outside. He found another guard on patrol. This one, however, walked away from Trydon. Trydon had the advantage at last, though thi
s didn’t help his nerves. He followed his unsuspecting foe, who quickly passed through a secured door. As the Avayan went through the door, Trydon saw a glimpse of the security room on the other side. He had reached his goal, although he still had to get inside. He knew there was a roof hatch present above the security room; he just needed some way up there. Trydon went up one floor and reached the roof. The shadows of the night provided an adequate cover. As he looked up at the might of the facility, he saw the towering giant and its many distant lights gazing back down at him. The desperate Tarian had to attempt to traverse the roof without drawing attention. The flat steel surface sent a chill up his bare feet. Rynok’s deserts were very hot during the day but extremely cold at night. Trydon reached a narrow ledge, and the security tower made its home on the other side of it. This ledge was no more than a few measly feet wide, which forced him to cling to the wall as if holding on for dear life. Being two stories up and an intimidating collection of guards below, it sure felt like life-or-death right about now.
Slowly and not so steadily, the anxious feline stepped along the ledge. The assortment of guards beneath were relaxing on their break.
“Don’t look down, don’t look down, don’t look down,” Trydon kept whispering to himself. He saw the guards now directly underneath him. As he looked back up, he pointed out the obvious to himself. “Oh, shit, I looked down.” His uneasiness had now become even worse. He was but a pawn in the palm of one’s hand, and that hand belonged to fear.
He closed his eyes for just a split second as he attempted to get a hold of himself. In that one moment, he placed his foot down too close to the edge, and over he went. Terror was unwillingly let in; the adrenaline rush was promptly shooting through his veins. Trydon dangled from a couple of stories up. He hung on for dear life quite literally now. One hand held on while he tried to grab the ledge with the other.
One guard turned and looked above, he saw only the lights of the facility high overhead.
Trydon hid from sight and panted while his heart raced. He laid as close to the wall as possible. Once recovering his breath, he wasted no time on getting across. On the other side, he whizzed over to the hatch. Then, he hesitated for a slight moment when he wondered how many guards would be in there. He tugged the lever and lifted the hatch, making a small creak while doing so, which left Trydon in panic. First, he popped his head in to get an idea of the room.
Three guards were stationed inside, but only one needed to spot him. As quietly as possible, he dropped down. The radio static and communications channels covered the small noises in the room. As his bare feet made contact with the ice-cold steel of the floor, a wave of terror hit him like a wall of bricks.
One wrong move was all that was needed, and it was all over. Trydon snuck behind one of the dozen desks in the fairly spacious room while all guards were occupied on either computers or communications devices of some sort. Trydon began to quietly rummage through filing cabinets, drawers and shelving with no luck. He tried to be as quiet as he could while searching. It was taking far too long. He almost thought he wouldn’t find it.
That’s when he noticed the cabinet he missed entirely, labelled Blueprints. He never would have guessed it would be so obvious.
Slowly, he moved to the cabinet while still feeling the anxiety. The tension continued to build the longer he was in the room. He grabbed the first blueprint he saw and unrolled it just enough to make sure it was what he was hoping for. Then, he decided it was time to leave. The hatch was too high to simply climb out, Trydon knew he had to use a desk to climb on. One guard sat there, half asleep on the job, supposed to be watching security footage of the yard. Trydon knocked a pen holder over as he got up onto the desk. The guard turned quickly after he heard it, but he saw only his workmates and a closed hatch.
The panicking Tarian raced back through the corridors, eager to get back to his quarters with his getaway prize. One guard suddenly came around a corner, but Trydon kept running and tackled the Avayan. Both of them slammed against the metal wall. The guard lost consciousness, and Trydon fled the scene.
That was lucky.
Trydon opened his room and darted inside while being as quiet and quick as possible. As he tried to return to his dirty sleeping rags, Trydon slipped in his puddle of puke. He landed on his hands and continued like nothing happened. Trydon hoped no one would ask too many questions about the vomit or the unlocked door.
It was daytime once more, and two guards were escorting another outside.
“I’m telling you I don’t remember. I must have just passed out,” one guard said, trying to explain the situation he was found in.
Another guard tied the pieces together. “You must have been hammered. You went into a slave room and threw up all over some guy.”
“But if you two found me last night, how did I get back to my own quarters? And who undressed me and put me into bed?” He wondered.
The two other Avayans just looked at each other and gulped.
So many close calls. The writer is trying to kill me with fright, I tell you. I’m the narrator. I already know what happens, so why am I getting tense? I’m too emotional.
SEVEN
The Azura flew towards the enormous orange planet of Rynok. The planet’s reds and oranges covered it, and an asteroid ring surrounded it.
Vanakis walked onto the bridge as the doors slid open, “So, walk in, free slaves, and walk out, right?”
Akrillis prepared the ship for descent, “Yeah, because it’ll be that simple,” he replied, with a sarcastic tone.
“Not with that attitude, it won’t be,” Val responded. “You know, if you didn’t have to complicate everything, things would go a lot smoother on a regular basis,” he said.
Akrillis turned in the chair and gave him a surprised look. “I complicate things?” He asked. “How ’bout when we flew to the Warren? You punched the barmaid for ripping you off.”
“She looked like a man,” Val clarified.
“She wasn’t even ripping you off,” Akrillis pointed out.
“She could have been.”
Akrillis rolled his eyes and sighed, “And what about when we were in Krystilla? We were forced to leave because you were caught smuggling in exotic animals.”
“Hey, puppies are not exotic animals!” Val replied. “And we were still allowed to stay after paying off the security chief anyway,” he reminded Akrillis.
“Which you ruined by sleeping with his daughter!” Akrillis shouted back. “And don’t even get me started with Etherel and this whole Jaroot thing.”
“Hey, that’s different. Jaroot’s just a moron,” Val exclaimed.
Akrillis chuckled. “Yeah, he’s the idiot.”
The Azura had now entered the atmosphere.
Akrillis collected his thoughts. “Look, you should let me do the talking,” Akrillis suggested.
“Oh, sure, I’ll just stand there and look pretty.”
Akrillis couldn’t actually tell if he was serious or not. “Look, I just want this to go as smooth as possible,” Akrillis insisted.
“Hey, c’mon. I can talk my way out of anything, remember?” Val reassured his brother.
“If that’s what you want to call it,” Akrillis remarked.
A voice suddenly shot out of the speakers. “This is Omega command. You are entering restricted airspace without authorisation. State your purpose or you will be terminated.”
The brothers took a moment and looked at each other before responding.
“Lovely place,” Val said.
Akrillis gulped before activating the comm. “This is the Tarian vessel, Azura. We are requesting permission to land. We seek an audience with your leader.” In that moment of silence, he knew what happened next would make or break this whole operation. The nerves churned in his gut like a pinwheel of uneasiness.
“Request denied. Leave the airspace or you will be terminated,” command responded.
Akrillis felt his desperation growing, “I am Prince Akri
llis Sarlan, son of the great Papyrus. I demand an audience.”
For a few moments, there was no response.
“Well, they’re not budging. C’mon, we tried,” Val said.
“Permission to land at strip seven,” the Avayan granted.
Akrillis had a slight curl on one side of his mouth, before realising they hadn’t gotten very far yet. “Now look, just let me handle it, okay?” he told Val. “We don’t want any more trouble.”
Vanakis seemed totally oblivious to what Akrillis said. “That was too easy,” he declared, deep in thought.
“As a prince, hopefully I can find a diplomatic solution to this crisis,”Akrillis pondered as he brought the ship down towards Omega.
Slaves in the leisure yards looked up at the unfamiliar ship, clearly not of the Avayans. They watched as its three engines guided it to the landing strip. Laurelle saw the grey craft decelerate and prepare for landing. Her mind instantly wondered what was happening. She couldn’t remember a time when a non-Avayan ship was present at the compound, not in all her ten years in this hell.
As the ship touched down, Avayan guards surrounded the vessel. The two brothers cautiously walked out as the ramp opened. As the princes stepped onto the sand and gravel, they were met with armed forces.
One man stepped forward. “I am Zurey Minos, Overseer to Omega, senator to the Avayan empire, and ruler of Rynok.” He was stern and focused as he introduced himself with authority.
“Sup.” Vanakis nodded.
Zurey looked puzzled by his unprofessional response. “Our operations here on Rynok function in peace and tranquillity,” the overseer continued. “State your business here.”
Akrillis took a deep breath, trying to swallow his nerves, “The time has come for Jenemi to reclaim its lost brothers and sisters whom we have come to collect. These despicable operations are to continue no further. We look forward to discussing details,” he gulped.
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