Tristan smiled “I’m sorry to trouble you, but I wondered how I got food around here?”
“Oh yes sir, of course, please come this way.” She held open the door and bowed. The small child was behind her, its little face turned up looking at him shyly. She turned and led Tristan through to the kitchen with the small child sticking close to her side. She motioned Tristan to sit on one of the chairs by the small table. Then she busied herself preparing a meal for him.
“What’s your name?” Tristan asked.
She turned from her task and replied, “Elvath, sir.”
Tristan smiled. “Please, it is Tristan, not sir.”
“Yes sir…oh sorry, Tristan.”
“That’s better,” Tristan replied. “And your child’s name?”
“His name is Torlen, after his father.” Tristan wondered where his father was, but did not want to pry too much. He suspected the answer might well cause Elvath some upset. Tristan sat and watched her work. Despite their skin colouration and hairlessness they were an attractive people.
Tristan’s mind returned to a subject he had not thought of since first meeting the Mylians. How come the two alien races he had met were fundamentally the same as he was? The differences in physical make-up were minor. He found it hard to believe that three totally alien races should be so similar. The Sicceians and humans could be a coincidence, but the Mylians as well? That was stretching things too far.
Elvath interrupted his train of thought as she placed a plate of hot food in front of Tristan. He found it good, and had forgotten how hungry he was. Elvath placed a tumbler of fruit juice next to his plate, and Tristan quickly drank that as well. “Would you like some more?”
He nodded. “Yes please. It has been a long time since I ate food as good as this.” She picked up his empty plate and dished him up some more food.
He took a large mouthful and noticed she was standing watching him. He felt his cheeks start to burn, he swallowed with a gulp. “I’m sorry, but are you sure you can spare this?”
“Sir.. er, Tristan, we have plenty of food. This was a prosperous colony before the Sicceians came.” She spat the word Sicceians. Her eyes started to glisten with tears. She wiped them with the sleeve of her blouse. “They killed my mate, Torlen, during the first attack.”
“I’m sorry.”
She shook her head as if trying to shake away her emotions, and sniffed, “I hate them! They attacked a ship my parents were on last year. Now I don’t know if they are dead or slaves. My whole family is gone. The only person I have now is my son.” She looked straight at Tristan. “I don’t know what you are. No one has seen a species like you before, but you rescued us from disaster and defeated the Sicceians. Perhaps you are the answer to our prayers.”
Tristan shifted uncomfortably on his chair and was about to deny he was the answer to anyone’s prayers when Da’ren walked in. “Tristan, I’m sorry to interrupt, but I was told you might be here. We believe we have repaired the cruiser, but we need to test that everything is functioning correctly and unfortunately we can’t fly it without you.”
Tristan sighed; he would have preferred to sit awhile and digest his meal, but it was not to be.
He rose and thanked Elvath. She smiled and bowed. “You are welcome, Sir.”
Tristan followed Da’ren back to the cruiser and walked up the ramp with him. The majority of Da’ren’s crew were on the bridge waiting. Tristan looked round. Right, let’s see what this crate can do. Da’ren offered him the captain’s chair. Tristan sat down and activated the ship’s computer. He accessed data on engine and weapons and everything seemed to be in order. He set the systems to manual control.
He turned to Da’ren “I have set all the systems for manual control. We need two down in the engine room to monitor and control the engines and power generators, plus one person on each console here.”
Da’ren detailed tasks for each of the crew. “How about the weapons, Tristan?”
“There are two independent weapon systems. Each bank of weapons had an operator on either side of the bridge.” He paused a moment while he reconfigured the weapons operation. “I have set target selection to manual, but weapons lock and firing solutions I have left with the computer system. I can change the configuration if there are any problems with the settings.”
“So are we ready for a test flight?”
“Yes, let’s take her up!” Tristan commanded full launch thrust from the computer and the ship started to rise. The ship had a slight vibration but a system check found nothing out of design specification. Within minutes they were leaving the planet’s atmosphere. Tristan requested a low orbit, just above the debris field circulating the planet. The vibration had stopped and Tristan was impressed at the smoothness and power of this cruiser.
It was time for a weapons test. Using the debris field for target practice, the two Mylians Da’ren had assigned to weapons control proved more than competent with their operation.
The final thing to test was the Star Drive. Da’ren was at the Star Drive console and at Tristan’s command, he engaged the drive for a few seconds. It functioned flawlessly. Within seconds, they had moved from one side of this solar system to the other. Tristan sighed and rolled his aching shoulders, easing the tension in his muscles. Everything worked perfectly. He congratulated the crew on a job well done. To his surprise, they all clapped and thanked him.
Tristan shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “OK everyone, let’s return to the planet’s surface.”
A short while later, as Tristan walked down the ramp, he turned to Da’ren. “All you need to do now is remove the Sicceian markings and make it a Mylian ship.”
Da’ren nodded. “Yes Sir! I will get right on it.”
Tristan walked slowly back to the town. Stifling a yawn he walked back to the house on the square and knocked.
Elvath opened the door saying, “Sir, you do not need to knock on the door, this has been designated as your quarters.”
Tristan hesitated. “Are you sure? I don’t want to overstay my welcome.”
She looked sideways at him. “Sir, the honour is mine.”
Tristan smiled at her. “Elvath, please remember it is Tristan, not sir.”
“Yes Tristan,” she replied and returned his smile.
“I think I will sleep now if that is OK?” Tristan asked.
“Of course, you don’t have to ask,” Elvath replied. She led Tristan to the room he had woken up in that morning. “If you want to wash, there is a shower room here.” She motioned to a door Tristan had not noticed before.
“Thank you, I will sleep now.” Elvath turned and left the room, shutting the door quietly behind her. Tristan was asleep as soon as his head touched the pillow, however, it was a troubled sleep. He dreamt he was in a battle fighting Sicceians and everyone was killed. When he looked closely at the bodies, they all had Aesia’s face.
He woke wet with perspiration, and the dawn sunshine coming in through the window did nothing to lift his mood. He shuddered and forced himself to forget the dreams.
He showered, dressed quickly and wandered through to the kitchen area. The building was silent so he decided to look for the fruit juice he had drunk the night before. He walked over to the cupboards just as Elvath rushed through.
“Please Tristan, let me do that for you.” She was breathless.
Tristan started to protest, but when he saw the concern on Elvath’s face he relented and sat down so she could get him his breakfast.
She sat opposite him while he ate and studied his face intently. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “What?”
She tilted her head slightly. “Why are you helping us?”
“Because I was a prisoner, and found out what the Sicceians are. On my world slavery, cruelty and oppression is wrong. I was brought up to value and fight for freedom.” He paused. “Once you are all safe I will search for my home. One day the Sicceians will find my world and try to enslave my people as well. They have to be warned
and prepared.”
She sat for a moment, her stare never wavering from his face. “You don’t think they are all evil, do you?”
“Why do you say that?” A knot started to form in his stomach.
“I watched you during the victory celebrations. I was the one who brought you food. You were grieving for someone.”
“Oh, was it that obvious?”
She smiled. “Sometimes you talk loudly in your sleep, mostly unintelligible, but you clearly say Aesia, a Sicceian female’s name.”
Tristan’s face started to burn, the knot in his stomach twisting up into his chest. He looked down at his hands clasped on the table in front of him. “She crashed landed behind my cottage. I helped her get back to her people. We were together on our own for many months before they found us.” He sighed, a shudder shook his body. “She disappeared and left me to my fate.”
“Did you mate with her?”
Tristan glanced sharply at Elvath. “What?”
She laid soft hands over his. “You did, didn’t you?” She squeezed his hands. “There is a legend that some Sicceian females are witches. They steal part of their chosen mate’s soul to bind him to them forever.”
Tristan pulled one of his hands free and brushed it through his hair, the knot in his chest tightening. “Yes, that’s more or less right.”
“You are very like them with their telepathic abilities, perhaps even stronger than them.” She paused for a moment, thinking. “Did her eyes start to turn green?”
“He sat upright in his chair. “Yes they did, and she was hiding something. I thought it was that she planned to betray me.”
Elvath shook her head. “Typical male, getting things wrong. She was pregnant.”
“What? Tristan stood, knocking his chair over with a crash. “She… she said that was impossible, that it could not happen between different species.”
“Well you must be more similar than she thought. That is what she was probably hiding from you, because she either had to be sure or did not believe it herself.”
“Oh my god! What a mess.”
Elvath stood and moved closer. “Tristan, think for a moment. She did not leave you to your fate. She disappeared because they killed her.”
“Why?”
“You know why.”
He swallowed. “Yes, because of me.” He turned and walked out of the house, the tightness in his chest making it almost impossible to breathe.
Later he walked over to the command building. It was not the scene of chaos it had been the day before. There were several empty desks, so Tristan sat down and waited for the officers he had dispatched to return. Everyone he met bowed to him. People coming and going would keep a respectful distance.
He leaned back in his chair and let his mind wander. He thought of the conversation with Elvath. She had seen right through him but why bring the subject up? He tried to think of Aesia, but his mind skidded away like mercury on glass.
“Sir?”
It took a moment or two for his eyes to focus. A small group of Mylians stood in front of the desk. He recognised them as the officers he had recruited. “Yes, what have you found out?” Tristan asked.
“We have enough ships to carry about 10,000 for a limited amount of time. There are about 8,000 survivors from the original population of 48,000.”
Tristan sat bolt upright as he clenched his hands into fists on the desk in front of him; 40,000 dead or missing.
He swallowed trying to keep his voice even. “Are there sufficient crews for the ships?”
“Yes, we have enough people to fly them all,” was the reply.
Tristan thought for a moment. “I believe it is a two-week flight to your home world. Is that correct?”
They all nodded in agreement. “Yes it is, sir.”
“OK, make sure there are enough supplies for two weeks. I want you all to divide up the population, allocate them ships, and ensure they have only minimal essential belongings, because even with a surplus of spaces I’m sure things will be cramped. I want all the survivors on their allocated ships, ready to leave in two days’ time. Is that possible in your estimation?”
“Yes sir,” they all chorused at once.
“Good, then get to it!” They saluted, and left to do as Tristan had ordered.
The two days passed quickly for Tristan as they came to him to resolve every problem. Morden had simply given up. He had to sort out disputes about who was allocated to which ship, what could or could not be taken along, and even some crews expecting to be paid. Tristan gave them all short shrift, especially since there were still a few rich families who had been comparatively untouched by the fighting who wanted to push their weight around.
On the evening of the second day he had been left alone to eat his evening meal. He took the opportunity to speak with Elvath. She had dished up the main course and sat opposite him at the table. “Elvath?”
“Yes.” She tilted her head slightly.
“Why did you bring up the subject of Aesia yesterday?”
“Ah.” She glanced at a spot above Tristan’s head for a moment before returning his gaze. “I believe you are the key to defeating the Sicceians once and for all, but all the time she resided here -” Elvath leant forward and touched his chest. “- you would hold back, because of the chance she might be caught up in any action you took. Now you are free. Free to take whatever action you deem necessary to defeat them. You also have two reasons to hate them as much as I.”
“Two reasons?”
“Yes, her death and your unborn child.”
Tristan sucked his breath in through clenched teeth. “You are right, Elvath.” For a brief instant a satisfied smile flashed across her face.
At the dawn of the third day the fleet was finally assembled and ready to leave. Tristan was onboard the cruiser. He sat shoulders hunched leaning forward on the captain’s command chair. He rubbed his dry eyes, sore from lack of sleep. “Is everything Ready?”
“Yes Sir.” He had made Da’ren his second in command.
Tristan gave the order to take off. The cruiser was to go first and cover the rest of the fleet until they could engage their Star Drives and head for Mylia. It was not long before they left the planet’s atmosphere behind, and they held their position in geostationary orbit above the fleet. Tristan commanded the long-range sensors to extend to maximum range. The solar system was clear for the moment. It was not possible to track anything that had the Star Drive active, so there was no way to know if there was a Sicceian fleet on its way.
Tristan gave the order for the fleet to launch. The ships started to leave the planet’s surface. When they were at a sufficient distance from the planet, they engaged their Star Drives and disappeared.
They were waiting for the last three biggest and slowest ships when the sensors picked up a disturbance. Seconds later a Sicceian fleet dropped into normal space.
“Fuck it! Why now? ” Tristan swore under his breath. The sensors relayed the information directly to Tristan via his telepathic link with the computer. His heart jumped in his chest. There were five cruisers and two battleships. They were heavily out-numbered with three slow lumbering ships full of refugees struggling to break free of the planet’s gravity
Caught with our pants down. He thought quickly, adrenaline causing his body to tremble. As luck would have it, the Sicceian fleet were the other side of the debris field. They would need to pass though it to get close enough to fire on the three remaining transport ships.
Tristan bit his lower lip. He had only a few seconds before the enemy sensors came on line and detected them. He took a wild gamble and jumped the ship to the debris field, immediately cutting the power. He looked round the dimly lit bridge. He had to use the computer and his telepathic link. Relaying commands, and the reaction time of the crew, would have taken too long. The bridge officers looked at him questioningly.
“Sorry, Ladies and Gentlemen. I had to think of something quickly. We will hide here among the debris
and wait for the fleet to go past us. They will head for the three remaining transport ships and hopefully not see us. Once they are past we will attack them from the rear. Gunners, fire on the two battleships. Port side guns concentrate on one, and the starboard gunner on the other. The rear shots will take out their engines and disable them. Then fire on any other target that presents itself. We will then pull back and draw the cruisers after us, giving the remaining transports time to get away. I will attempt to disable as many as possible so you should have easy targets. Good luck and good shooting everyone,” Tristan added.
They sat and waited. Tristan felt beads of sweat pricking his brow. His shirt was cold and wet on his back when he leaned back in his chair, passing the perspiration soaked material against his skin. The gunners tracked the battleships using minimum power. Everything was going to plan until one cruiser broke away from the formation and started along the debris field. Maybe their sensors picked something up in the background noise.
“I will take care of the cruiser that broke formation. As soon as it is under control bring everything on line and take out those battleships.”
“Yes Sir.”
Tristan set his jaw with clenched teeth, back and shoulders tense, he waited. He released the ship’s systems to full manual control and concentrated on the approaching cruiser. As soon as it was close enough for him to access the main computer he shut down its engines and locked out the weapons control.
“Right, take out the battle ships.” The ship came alive around him, there was a lurch as the engines powered up, moving them away from the cover of the drifting debris. They managed to fire several salvos at the rear of the battleships before the Sicceians knew what had hit them. The nearest battleship suddenly exploded, the wreckage veering across two cruisers, destroying one and damaging the other. That’ll teach them to fly in close formation. Tristan smiled with satisfaction.
The second Battleship was drifting without power. The two remaining cruisers turned towards them and started firing. Two shots hit and shook Tristan’s ship. They had not hit anything vital and damage control went into action. As they drew closer, Tristan shut down their main computers. His gunners seized the advantage he had given them and before the Sicceian’s could reboot their computers; they were knocked out with three salvos of missiles each.
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