Page 16 of Torn from the Alien Commander

I grow tired under the endless assault of questions forced to contain my annoyance when Thalaxia often rehashes old ground, altering her approaches. She deliberately leaves in errors, hoping I’ll confess or change my story. I sigh, knowing what game she’s playing. It’s obvious she thinks we came here to deliver hostile Klendathians into their midst. But it couldn’t be further from the truth.

I answer her questions with weary impatience, not fearing her silly attempts to trip me up, because I speak the truth. And if there’s any justice on Nebia, the truth will set me free. Then I can get some answers about what happened to Xandor before planning my next move into the frightening, unknown future—alone.

Stifling a yawn, Thalaxia jolts upright, causing me to flinch at the sudden movement. “Right, lass, I think that’ll be all for now.” She motions to cell bars, which lower at her approach, before turning. “I’ll have food sent up. Get some rest. You deserve it.”

I deserve nothing for getting Xandor killed.

Her words surprise me, offered with what appears to be a genuine smile. Perhaps my earnest, truthful words have gotten through to her? Still, the energized bars slam with a jarring thud, reaffirming the reality of my situation—I’m a collared slave at the mercy of tiny, dangerous aliens.

Exhausted, I don’t wait for food, opting to lie my weary head down on the undersized cot, my ankles dangling off the end. A soft laugh escapes me as I wonder if this is what it feels like for Xandor when he’s abroad.

Rest in peace, my love.

My laugh switches to sobbing tears, the ferocity of them shaking my entire body, as I curl up, feeling crushing loneliness and heartbreak. The day’s frantic events replay in my mind nonstop, tormenting me. I would give anything to go back and make different choices. But there are no second chances, only despair.

Even though the thin mattress is damp with my weeping, a merciful slumber carries me away from my torment. Troubled dreams assail my mind, images of Seeker drones swarming Xandor and me as we attempt to fend them off. No matter how hard I fight, no matter how carefully I sneak, death is the result.

Trapped in an endless cycle of suffering, I feel like giving up, knowing yet again the countless drones are coming. The hazy image of Xandor beckons me onward, urging me to fight, but I can’t. There’s nothing left to give. What’s the point when the result is always the same—more pain? I remain still in this dream state, opening my arms as the drones swarm us, even Xandor’s agonizing struggles wash over me as I. Just. Let. Go.

Then, in a rush, utter darkness consumes my nightmares. In a panic, I gasp, casting frantic glances around, hoping to see anything, but there’s nothing other than complete blackness, devoid of even the faintest sound.

Is this another dream?

It’s hard to tell, because here it feels more tangible. Despite the oppressive darkness, my senses are sharper, lacking the usual dream-like quality. The thought heightens my panicked breaths as I discover I’m floating, lost in this void. No matter how much I wave my arms or legs, I can’t change my position, or perhaps that’s just my perception.

Then I squint, looking above, noticing a purple light shaped like a waxing moon descending. “What the void!” I exclaim, but no words leave my mouth. As it approaches, growing larger with each passing second, I see it’s formed from flickering andwavering flames. It draws closer and I wince, expecting it to sear and burn me. Yet no heat or illumination can be felt in this immense darkness.

The beautiful and petrifying purple flames roar, looming over me so intensely that I avert my gaze, yet its presence feels like a soothing balm. A part of me knows the light is here to protect and guide me, as I sense it burning away my fear, doubts, and pains. I gasp in shock, never feeling so light and serene.

“Our noble son suffers,” a powerful female voice echoes out across the darkness, the source of which I cannot discern. “Rise, and complete the cycle!” It commands.

“Xandor is suffering?” I ask in disbelief, but the sound never leaves my lips as the roaring flames envelope me, filling me with an inner warmth and sense of strength that sends my soul soaring.

I jerk awake, falling out of the meager bed in shock, gasping for breath. Hitting the hard metal floor with a jarring knock, I groan as I’m assaulted by aches and pains.What a crazy dream! The stress and heartache must be the cause.I rise on unsteady legs, wincing at the soreness that compels me to check my body for any wounds.

Are these aches a result of yesterday’s madness?

I frown, rubbing my left arm, which throbs the worst of all. “I’m battered worse than our hull is....” My words trail off as the bitter losses come to the forefront. So much lost with nothing to show for it, other than a few fleeting moments of bliss.

Glancing around, it’s impossible to discern how long I’ve slept. The cramped dark metal cell, devoid of any sunlight, emits only a dim blue glow from the high ceiling against black arcweave surfaces. My nose wrinkles at the smell of cooked food, rumbling my stomach. I notice a small polymer plate lying near the charged bars.

I waste no time in my hungry greed, plucking the plate from the floor and retreating to my cot to examine it. A brown square of soft spongy food lies next to four thick tubes of what looks like meat, similar to the food Xandor had made for me. Taking a tentative bite of the meat tube, delicious flavors explode in my mouth, and I gobble them all down, fearing I might not get another opportunity for such decadence.

The soft brown food has a strange dry texture, forcing me to take smaller bites, lest I choke in my gluttonous haste. It lacks the rich flavors of the unknown meat but still has a pleasant, savory taste.Much better than Nutripaste, that’s for sure.

I almost choke in shock when the cell bars come crashing down, revealing the smiling Thalaxia. She marches into my cell carrying another plate of food that catches my eye. “Are you enjoying your... sausages and bread?” she asks, struggling over the strange names.

Frowning at her words, I’m forced to swallow a large bite of the starchy food. “Um... yes,” I manage to answer amidst my gulping.

“Good, because it wasn’t easy replicating this Earth food,” Thalaxia declares as she sets the new plate beside me on the cot.

“Earth food?” I exclaim, looking upon the plate of the food with newfound wonder, another step closer to my unknown home. The new plate contains a strange yellow and red circular item, loaded with a multitude of toppings, each odder than the last.

I reach for the streaming plate, my mouth almost watering until I remember the suspect Thalaxia watches nearby. My eyes flick to hers, scanning for any hint of suspicion or betrayal. But she only laughs, noticing my reaction. “It’s safe. I believe it’s called pizza,” she posits, scratching her head. “Earthlings must be bloody, indecisive, putting everything under the suns on their food.”

Looks and smells delicious to me.

I pick up a slice, watching the steaming gooey yellow stuff, sloughing off the end, and for a second I panic, wondering if it might be alive. But I persist, catching the drooping remnants in my aching left hand. A host of flavors and textures explodes in my mouth as I moan, chewing the divine treat. Never have I tasted anything so rich.

---