Guardian Awakening (18 page)

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.
 

That left the cruiser in the debris field. They had restarted the ship’s systems and were turning to gain a firing position. They were now too far away for Tristan to regain control so he commanded his crew to accelerate their ship and loop it up and round, bringing it back behind the turning cruiser. His gunners fired again. They scored a lucky hit, and the engines of the enemy cruiser exploded almost immediately.
 

As he was concentrating on the battle he had lost track of what was happening with the final transports. “Da’ren, did the transports get away?”

“Yes, Tristan, the last one just left.”

“Right, time for us to go as well. Fire up the Star Drive and get us on route to Mylia.”

The Star Drive engaged and Tristan slumped in his seat. The crew started to clap and then broke out into cheers. They had taken out a far superior Sicceian force with one single cruiser, an element of surprise, and Tristan. As usual, the effort had totally drained him, so he rose and staggered to the captain’s quarters. They all rose as he stood, and a Mylian took his arm as he opened the door to the captain’s quarters. She helped him to his bunk and removed his boots. Tristan fell almost immediately asleep.

Tristan woke to the smell of cooking. He looked around, trying to orientate himself. A clean set of clothes were neatly folded on a chair placed against the far wall. He stood, went to his washroom, and got dressed. He walked through to his dining room and found Elvath preparing him his breakfast.

She turned her head as he walked in. He smiled. “I thought it was you as soon as I saw the way my clothes were folded. What are you doing here?”

“Well I was appointed to look after you and I can’t do that on one of the transports can I?”

Tristan shook his head. “I suppose not, no. What about your son, where is he?”

“Oh, he is asleep in my cabin,” she replied.

“Look,” Tristan said. “You don’t have to do this, you know. I can look after myself.”

“I want to be here. Someone as important as you should not have to look after himself, and anyway, where you are, Sicceians get whipped, and that’s something I want to be part of!”
 

Tristan sighed and said nothing, but in his heart he knew that the task he had set himself was going to be almost impossible to achieve. An end to this war was going to be a long and difficult path.

During the two-week trip to Mylia, Tristan worked with the crew and made them exercise until the ship’s systems and operation were second nature to them. It amused him to think that his Navy experience and training was being put to use in such a strange and unexpected way. Most of the ship’s systems had manual overrides and other than requiring his presence to keep the computer operational during the flight, the crew could handle the systems as well as any Sicceian. Tristan gave instructions that they should shut down the Star Drive well before they reached Mylia. He did not want them to think a Sicceian cruiser was attacking and get them blasted out of the sky.

Chapter Eleven: Mylia

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 gravity 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.