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 and cracked.
Where the hell am I? He sat up again, this time more slowly. The giddiness did not return, so he swung his legs round and stood up. He was naked. He glanced round the room. His clothes were neatly washed and pressed in a pile on a chair.
He dressed and went to the door. He opened it slowly and looked out. There were no Sicceians nearby, just a feeling of emptiness. He stepped out into a small corridor with a door at the end.
He walked to the door at the end of the hall, opened it and stepped through. He found himself in a small neat kitchen. A young female with a little child sitting at a table in the centre of the room regarded him intently.
Tristan remembered his folded clothes. “Hello. Did you wash my clothes for me?” She nodded. “Well thank you very much.” The young female inclined her head and smiled at him. Tristan smiled back.
She put the child down stood and bowed. “Sir, the Mayor has asked to see you immediately you woke up.”
“Oh, OK. Where do I have to go?”
“We are only a block away from the town square.” She paused for a moment. “Head across to the main street then turn left. The town square will be directly in front of you.”
“Thank you.”
Tristan stepped out of the building, across a small square and into the main street as the female had directed. People were hurrying about, females with small crying children, older children, old males, and a few younger ones. They all turned to stare as Tristan passed.
Some of the older children fell into step with Tristan, making a small procession as he made his way across the main square to the Town Hall. He walked up the steps. A guard nodded and pushed open the door, ushering Tristan in. This time as he walked in, most people stopped what they were doing and looked up.
Morden was seated at the same untidy desk with maps and communicators scattered about on it, presiding over the same chaos as the first time Tristan had been there.
When Morden saw Tristan, he stood, walked round the desk, and grabbed Tristan’s arm. “Thank you, Thank you. You saved us all!”
Tristan glanced round at the chaos. “So what’s going on at the moment?”
Morden looked downcast. We are clearing up, burying, and mourning the dead.”
“How many serviceable ships are left Morden?”
“I don’t know, why?”
“Because the colony has to be evacuated.”
Morden stared at Tristan, his mouth open and closed wordlessly for a few moments before he found his voice. “We... we cannot leave our homes and all we fought and died for.”
“You must. The Sicceians are not going to forget about this and leave you in peace!”
“But I don’t know how many ships there are left.”
“Are any of the Sicceian ships salvageable?” Tristan asked.
Morden shook his head. “I don’t know. All this is too much for me.”
“You are the person in charge,” Tristan protested.
“Only because there is no one else,” Morden sighed. “I was a member of the town council responsible for children’s schooling before becoming mayor. The military leadership were killed during the first attack. I was the only one left who would take over.”
“The thing is, Morden, it’s only a matter of time before the Sicceians return. The amount of time you have depends on how far away the nearest Sicceian battle group is. The cruiser that escaped would be sure to make for them at all possible speed.” Tristan frowned. Someone needed to take charge and get these people off the planet. He sighed “OK then, you need to get organised. Do you mind if I start to get things moving?”
Morden looked relieved. “No, please do.”
Tristan called over one of the solders loitering by the door. “What’s your name?”
“Dalry Sir.”
“Right Dalry, I want you to round up all the military personnel, ships’ crews and civic leaders who have survived and be back here with everyone in three hours.” Dalry looked at Morden, who nodded. Tristan turned back to Morden. “Do you know where Da’ren is at the moment?”
“Yes, he was over by the landing field.”
“Make sure the people that Dalry rounds up are kept here in the square. Tell them there will be an announcement at midday.”
Morden nodded. “Of course, and thank you.” Relief that he no longer had to make any decisions was etched all over his face. Tristan smiled to himself; since I left Earth events seem to be constantly taking me over.
Tristan took his leave and walked to the landing field. He found Da’ren working on the small ship they had used during the battle. He looked up as Tristan approached. “Ah, you’re awake.” He patted the ship’s hull. “This will make an excellent armed freighter for my supply runs.”
Tristan shook his head. “Da’ren, we have to organise an evacuation, you know as well as I do that the Sicceian ship will be back with reinforcements to exact revenge for their defeat.”
Da’ren looked nervously at the sky. “Yes, I suppose you’re right.”
“Are any of the Sicceian cruisers or troop carriers serviceable?” Tristan asked.
Da’ren shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“So Da’ren, can you assemble your crew and quickly assess if any of them are salvageable, bearing in mind we will only have a few days to make repairs?”
He nodded and looked away from Tristan’s direct gaze. “Yes, Tristan you are right. All I was thinking of was us getting out of here.”
“Good, get to it then.”
Da’ren hurried off to round up his crew and get started.
By the time Tristan returned to the town square, a small crowd had assembled. Most were military personnel, but there were many civilians as well. They fell silent when Tristan appeared. He made his way through the crowd to the entrance of the Town hall.
He walked in and found a sturdy table. A youth leaning against the wall was watching him. Tristan beckoned him over. “Are you busy?”
The youth shrugged. “No.”
“Then please help me outside with this table.”
“Yes, sir.”
Together they lifted the table through the door then placed it at the top of the steps.
“Thank you.”
The youth shrugged and walked to one side.
Tristan jumped up on the table and surveyed the filling square. The murmur of voices stilled and alien faces turned towards him.
“First, I would like to thank you all for coming. I know you are all excited and looking forward to rebuilding your lives after defeating the Sicceians. Unfortunately there are now some hard choices to make.” He heard one or two groans in the crowd. “This was only a setback for the Sicceian’s. One ship escaped.” He paused and looked at the sea of faces. “We must all leave. The Colony has to be evacuated.”
There were shouts from the crowd “Why? No!” And a general murmuring of discontent swept around the crowd.
Tristan held up his hand for silence. After a few moments the noise from the crowd died down so he continued. “Have you forgotten so soon? Only a few days ago you were all preparing for the end.”
A richly dressed female standing in the front row shouted, “Yes, but we defeated them with your help. Why not the next time?” There was a general murmur of agreement.
Tristan looked over the gathered crowd and sighed. “They were defeated due to surprise and their numbers were few. A much larger force will be another matter all together. They will want revenge, nothing will be left standing. We must leave now while we still have the chance.” Tristan paused to let it sink in. “You will not be forced, but I strongly advise you to join the evacuation while you can.”
There was a general murmur and shifting of the crowd. Tristan sensed the mood had shifted towards acceptance of the situation. “Those of you who wish to leave, please be ready at a moment’s notice. Just have necessary personal belongings packed ready as space will probably be limited.”
He paused, the majority of the crowd looking at him. “Are there any officers or ship’s captains here?” he asked. Five hands rose. Please can you come forward, I need to talk to you all.” Tristan jumped down from the table as the crowd began to disperse.
The five who raised their hands, including Dalry, stood in a small group on the bottom step. They turned and faced Tristan as he walked towards them. “Right, gentlemen, I need two of you to take as many people as you need and assess the number of serviceable ships we have. The remainder of you must divide up the people here and split up the colony into sections and count the number of survivors we actually have in each section. I want you to report back to me by this time tomorrow, please.” They nodded and he left them to get on with it.
Tristan walked back to the landing field. He found Da’ren with his crew working on one of the Sicceian cruisers.
“Tristan, just the person we need. I think this ship is serviceable, but the computer system is beyond us. There are only a few access ports, and it needs a direct telepathic connection to access its higher functions. Can you check the status for us please?”
Tristan nodded. He connected with the computer and requested a system check. The computer reported the ship was almost fully functional except for a pressure leak on the fuel feed to the port engine, and one of the starboard pulse lasers was damaged. Most important of all a twisted bulkhead had caused the outer pressure hull to crack. Tristan turned to Da’ren and told him of the fuel pressure leak and the crack in the pressure hull. “Also, see if you can get parts from the other ships to repair the pulse laser. We are going to need all the firepower we can get.”
“OK Tristan.” Da’ren and his crew rushed off to repair the faults with the ship.
Tristan walked back to the town. The day was now warm and sunny, the countryside green and lush. He was getting used to the altitude and now breathing without any difficulty. He stopped for a moment, savouring the peace. I can see why they would want to stay here. He sighed, it would be so easy for him to take a small ship and leave. These aliens had been fighting one another long before he knew they existed. He could return to his normal life, as since that day, when he rescued Aesia from her ship, the pains in his head had stopped. At the thought of Aesia his stomach twisted. If he could find Earth his life would never be the same again. He turned towards the ruined town. Two children were playing hide and seek. They noticed him watching them play. They both stopped and waved at him then returned to their game. I can’t just leave them. It had fallen to him to get these people away to safety. Perhaps when they are all safe I can get a ship and go home.
He squared his shoulders and resumed walking towards the centre of town. He had not gone far when his stomach rumbled. He had completely forgotten he had not eaten all day. When he reached the main square he looked around for the house he had woken up in. It was across from the HQ building. He walked towards it and knocked on the door. Being unsure what the social norms were with these people, he thought it best not to just walk in. The young woman opened the door cautiously. When she saw it was Tristan, she stepped back and smiled. “Yes, sir?”
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 coloration 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 Tristan’s train of thought as she placed a plate of hot food in front of him. 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 people 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 made his way back to the house near 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 dream.
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 compu