GuardianChapter 3
- 4 years ago
- 21
- 0
The Star Drive shut down on the outer reaches of the Mylian system, and Tristan handed command of the ship over to Da'ren. It would be far safer for a Mylian captain to bring the ship to his home planet.
Tristan retired to the Captain's Ready Room and watched events unfold from there. Communication was established and several hours later an escort fleet surrounded them. The Mylians were being cautious. A Sicceian ship in normal circumstances could not be operated by any species other than Sicceian. A large battle ship drew alongside and secured the cruiser with lines. They then sent over an armed boarding party. Da'ren sent an escort to conduct them to the bridge. Tristan went to stand behind Da'ren as the boarding party walked on to the bridge. They seemed relaxed as they surveyed the Sicceian cruiser command centre and the Mylian bridge crew. Da'ren walked forward to greet the officer, who had a friendly smile on his face.
"How did you manage to capture and operate this?" the officer asked as he took Da'ren's outstretched hand in his.
Da'ren turned towards Tristan. "With his help."
Tristan noticed the officer's expression change from friendliness to suspicion "What is it?"
"He is Human from a planet he called Earth."
The officer did not let Da'ren finish. "Secure it."
Tristan stood still as two of the boarding party drew their guns.
Tristan's crew jumped to his defence. "No - he is our friend, we would all be dead or Sicceian prisoners without him."
"I'm sorry, but I have my orders, please stand aside." The officer nodded to the hesitating guards. "Lock it up." The crew reluctantly stood back as Tristan's hands were cuffed. They couldn't argue with the armed boarding party.
"Don't worry. It won't be ill treated while we check out your story."
A gun barrel jabbed him in the back. "This way."
Tristan groaned inwardly and followed the officer back through the ship to the main air lock. A docking ring was secured to the open hatch joining the two ships together. Tristan gulped as his stomach lurched. Moving between the two ship's artificial gravities reminded him of travelling fast over a hump back bridge. Curious Mylian's watched Tristan and his escort pass. They quickly reached a holding cell. Tristan's cuffs were removed and with a rough jab of the gun in his back he stepped through the door, and it closed behind him with a hiss.
The cell was plain featureless grey with a metal bunk bolted to the far wall. Tristan walked over to the bunk and slumped down with a sigh. Here we go again. He swung his legs up on the bunk and lay back with his hands behind his head and shut his eyes. It's not going to be as easy to escape this time. No computers to access, physical locks, jailers without telepathic abilities. "Bugger it!" His words echoed in the empty room. He shut his eyes and tried to sleep. After an indeterminate period of time a small hatch opened and a tray of food passed through. Tristan rose and walked over to the tray. At least the food consisted of cooked meat and vegetables and not the swill the Sicceians had served.
He finished the meal and placed it next to the hatch. It was removed almost immediately. So I'm being watched. He returned to the bunk and lay back down. A short while later the ship lurched, and a slight vibration started. Two days passed before the vibration changed, it increased for a while then the ship rolled slightly and settled.
There were voices outside. Tristan tensed, and setting his jaw he prepared himself for the next onslaught whatever it might be. The door swung open to reveal the smiling face of Da'ren.
"Tristan you're free! The refugees have all arrived, collaborating our story." Tristan swung his legs off the bunk and sat up. "You are a hero and everyone wants to meet you," Da'ren continued. "Come on."
Tristan stood. "Well if this is how you Mylians treat heroes I would hate to be an enemy." He smiled wryly.
Da'ren clapped him on the back. "They needed to be sure, that's all."
Tristan sighed. "Yes, I understand."
"We will make it up to you now," Da'ren Laughed.
Tristan walked down the ship's ramp. An honour guard stood at the bottom waiting for him. Crowds of people behind them their alien faces all looking at him. Tristan was thankful they had allowed him to clean up and get fresh clothes before he had to brave the hero's welcome. He ignored the voice in his head telling him to turn and run from the gathered crowds. He sighed, resigned to this new role of hero. Oh well, could be worse I suppose. He stopped and waved. The whole crowed erupted in cheers, shouts and waves. The police or whatever they were had difficulty holding back the press of people. When he reached the bottom of the ramp the officer of the guard saluted Tristan and informed him the Emperor wanted an immediate audience. Tristan swallowed as his heart leaped in his throat. "The Emperor?"
The officer nodded. "Yes, sir." Tristan allowed himself to be escorted from the landing field to waiting vehicles. From what had been explained by his crew, the Mylian government was run in a manner similar to the old Roman Empire, where an emperor ruled over a government made up of senior distinguished families.
As they walked to the ground vehicles, Tristan could see people pushing for a better view when he past them. He smiled and waved. Better keep the fans happy I suppose.
The Mylian capital city sped past the vehicle window, tall towers and spires situated among trees and wide green open spaces. They stopped outside an ornate marble building. The officer accompanying Tristan told him that none of the buildings were more than fifty years old. They had not been permitted to build anything higher than two storeys when Mylia was a Sicceian slave planet. Each slave planet was garrisoned by a large contingent of Sicceian warriors commanded by a governor. There had been several Sicceian forts spread over the planet, and they were used as staging posts for shipping slaves across the Sicceian Empire. It was only when the majority of the Sicceians were recalled to fight the race that could almost match them in technology, military hardware and viciousness that the Mylians managed to overthrow the remaining Sicceians and gain their freedom.
Tristan asked if the officer knew anything about this alien race that had threatened the Sicceian superiority. The officer shook his head. "We believe the Sicceians annihilated them to ensure they would not be a threat again. We do not even know what they called themselves or what they looked like."
Tristan nodded and wondered if the Sicceians could be forced into such a position as to agree to peace. He thought of Aesia and how she had changed. Perhaps there was hope for them. I would like to think so, he thought to himself.
The officer had continued talking and Tristan had missed what he had said. "I'm sorry, what did you say?"
The officer glanced at him. "I said, this is the Emperor's residence."
"Oh, OK. What happens now?" Tristan asked, trying to keep the nervousness from making his voice tremble.
"If you would kindly follow me." They stepped out of the vehicle and mounted the steps to the large double doors. The doors swung open on well oiled hinges as they approached. Guards saluted as they walked through to a large auditorium.
"The emperor wants to meet you in his private quarters," the officer informed Tristan as they walked through a door on one side to a small reception area, where an elaborately dressed official was waiting. The officer handed Tristan over to the official, turned on his heels and left.
The official motioned Tristan to follow him and turned down the corridor behind the reception area. The Emperor's apartments were not quite what Tristan had expected. Instead of opulent, they were modest, about the same size and standard as a large penthouse flat in London or any big city. The emperor and his family were sitting on a balcony overlooking one of the city parks. They all rose as Tristan and the aide entered. Tristan felt his skin prickle and sweat started to form on his brow. He hoped his fear did not show. He didn't know what to expect, and he didn't know what the protocol was when meeting a Mylian Emperor. He thought it best to at least bow. The Emperor smiled, indicated an empty chair and asked Tristan to sit down.
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Tristan sat in the lounge section of his quarters, staring out the view port. Countless stars shone back at him. The Milky Way arched across thick and dense in this region of space. The ever-present hum of the ship masked Aesia's breathing as she lay sleeping in the bed across the room. The steward had knocked to tidy his room, but Tristan had sent him away. Aesia was an integral part of the plan he had devised and had to be willing to help. It would put her in danger, something Tristan...
Aesia landed the craft in a small flat area in front of the main house. She shut down the ships systems and opened the main hatch. Tristan walked behind Aesia as she had instructed him to and followed her to the house. Traditional slave garb included a hood that could be pulled forward to cover the eyes. A slave should not make eye contact with any of the masters. For Tristan, the outfit added to the anonymity and covered the differences between him and the known species. They had landed on...
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At first light, Tristan awoke. The quiet whispering in his mind invading his thoughts like the gentle touch of butterfly wings. As he rubbed the sleep from his eyes, realisation returned, and a chill shivered down his spine, entering his stomach in a twisted knot. A crashed ship in his back yard and an alien in his bed upstairs. He had to get the ship covered quickly. If anything got reported to the authorities they would be all over his secluded patch of England like ants. He quickly washed...
Tristan woke the next morning to the sound of clattering and banging from his kitchen. He sighed. "What is she doing now?" He pushed off the covers, stood, and walked through to the kitchen. Open tins and boxes, their contents scattered about, lay on the work surface. Some beans in tomato sauce dripped, forming a lumpy orange puddle on the floor. The Alien had finally settled on breakfast cereal and sat, quietly eating them from the box. Tristan groaned, but she just turned and smiled. He...
Tristan turned a key then pushed a large green button. A cranking noise followed by a loud roar filled the cabin. Aesia grabbed her seat tightly as the noise subsided to a steady rumble. Tristan pushed a long vibrating leaver forward with a loud crunch. Aesia gasped as the vehicle lurched forward, bumping over Tristan's pot holed drive then out to the long dirt track that ran in front of his house. After about half a mile they reached a small narrow lane. Aesia sat in silence, she found it...
The next day Tristan woke early. The sun streaming in through the partly closed curtains left bright patches on the opposite wall. He lay still, the faint whispering in his mind when Aesia was near, had stopped. So she must be working on her ship. He checked the wound in his side and it had almost completely healed. He swung his legs round and stood up; the expected nausea did not happen. He rubbed the side of his forehead, noting that he hadn't suffered any pain or headaches since she had...
Tristan groaned, and his head throbbed. Something cut into his chest and shoulders making it hard to breathe. He attempted to shift position to ease the pressure but he couldn't move. "What the fuck?" Full consciousness returned. He was hanging upside down from the straps of his seat! Without thinking, he reached for the strap release and punched it. The straps gave way and he fell with a grunt to what once had been the roof of the cabin. He glanced round in the dim light of the emergency...
Eight days after leaving the forest, a low circle of hills appeared on the horizon off to the right of their path. As they drew closer, Tristan noticed a faint mist hanging over them in the morning chill. They were setting up camp for the night when he pointed them out to Aesia. "I think we should make for those hills. We may find water and game. If there is we could rest for a few days and regain our strength." She stood and looked where he pointed "But that's out of our way." "Yes,...
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...
Da'ren slumped in the pilot's seat and wiped his brow with a shaking hand. He looked at Tristan. "That should not be here!" One of the others turned from the view port "It looks like the remains of ships." Da'ren was about to engage thrusters to get them away from the debris field when Tristan put a hand on his arm. "Wait." They all turned questioning faces towards him. "Something destroyed these ships, so we should stay in the debris field for the moment and check." Da'ren...
The sun felt warm on his face as he turned on his side and pulled the covers up over his head, he hovered in that place between awake and asleep, relaxed. Aesia had asked him something, what was it? No, she had left. Memories came flooding back and Tristan sighed. He opened his eyes. He was in a small room. The window had a cloth covering it, but sunlight was streaming through around the edges. As he sat up a queasiness gripped him. He lay back down and looked at the ceiling, it was dirty...
The officer at the lectern cleared his throat. "Ladies and gentlemen, I would like to welcome the alleged saviour of one of our colonies." They all glanced at Tristan, their expressions stern and unsmiling. "I have been ordered to give a detailed deposition of the Sicceian forces and our home fleet, and hand command to our guest." Tristan stifled a gasp turning it to a cough, his heart skipped a beat. Command! No wonder there was an atmosphere. They were all silently looking at him. His...
Vague shapes and lights moved around him, sensations and sound that meant ... something? He groaned, then blackness. Lights returned, shapes moved. Someone touched his forehead with cool hands. Tristan's head felt as if it was being beaten from the inside by a hammer. Voices and faces faded in and out and he had strange dreams. Sometimes they were pleasant ones, other times not. Many of his dreams centred on a beautiful alien with eyes of brilliant blue. He opened his eyes. He was lying in...
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Geoff woke up alone, had a shower and made his way down to the kitchen, half expecting to be alone as normal. Instead he found Helen searching through cupboards. She'd already made coffee and toast. "I was going to start breakfast but I didn't know what you liked. I was just trying to find something to iron my skirt. Do you have an iron and ironing board?" Geoff went to the cupboard under the stairs and got out the required implements and took them to her. "Thank you, my skirt is so...
At the station They got to the station as the London train departed. Faced with an hour wait for the next train Geoff and Helen found the station cafe and settled in for the wait. "Geoff, when I asked you why you helped me, you said you owed someone. I don't think it was money, so do you think you could tell what you owe to whom?" "The short answer is that her name is Vanessa Richardson and I owe her my life. Nothing special just something I can't pay back." "You can't expect me...
2nd August 2003 Geoff was in his element. He turned off the water from the hose and stood and looked at his pride and joy. He sniffed taking in the wonderful smell of Gunk. The Vincent Black Shadow gleamed in the sun light. Geoff took his chamois leather and started drying the paint and chrome work. He noticed the taxi pull up. Crouching down he picked up his tube of Solvol Autosol and started to polish the tappet covers. He heard the cab door close but didn't turn to look. He knew who it...
————————————————– May the golden butterfly lead you throughout your reading of the journey of the last MacEirc royal bloodline ————————————————– Chapter 1 The story began when Coinneach was just a little boy. The servant picked him up and kissed him once on the cheek. Tears streamed down as she cradled his tiny body in her arms. Together they penetrated through the chilling mist of the border-crossing bridge, leaving the lines of carriages due for another transit post in Beinn Dearg....
I don't know how I got through my classes that day. I don't remember them and had no notes when I checked later. That would mean trying to find someone who would loan me theirs so I could catch up. I hurried home after my last class. I didn't see Jen downstairs when I got home. When I called out to let her know I was home there was no answer. I went up to her room and found the door closed. I could hear her stereo so I knew she was there. I knocked softly but got no reply. I decided to...
Your limo arrives promptly at 8:00pm and you are whisked away to a freshly opened chilled bottle of champagne and light jazz playing softly. I in my tuxedo and you in your fur, black dress and heels dressed for the night on the town we savor the taste of our lips and lean back to admire one another. Words are not required at the moment, just time to be near and lightly caress the soft skin of your legs…..you are so beautiful. Your affect on me is immediate and occasionally you graze my...
The warehouse wasn’t insulated, so while it wasn’t as cold outside as it had been, the inside of the warehouse didn’t feel any warmer than the day before. Otherwise, the warehouse was just as empty and unused. There was only one real difference between today and yesterday. After my security spell lesson, I had cleaned up what I could of the chalk lines. I didn’t have a clenser to get it all up, so there was some smeared remnants when we left. I didn’t see anything today. I asked about...