Page 19 of Torn from the Alien Commander

I push myself to run faster, outpacing Thalaxia in our panicked haste. The ground shakes, and the deafening sound of massive laser batteries fills the air. Reaching the darkened tunnel entrance, I turn to beckon to Thalaxia, who struggles to keep up. My gaze shifts to the heavens, where countless streaks of red laser beams light up the sky, targeting a Scythian Voidbane ship bombarding the surface in a torrent of shimmering plasma.

The terrifying scale of the assault takes my breath away. Driven by fear, I plunge into the tunnel. “Don’t wait for me, silly lass!” Thalaxia urges, joining me inside the darkened tunnel, which leads to a large chamber filled with grim-faced but determined Nebians. Along the walls are laser weapons, each worth a fortune on other planets, but here a desperate means of survival.

“Bastards got one through,” Thalaxia declares between gulping breaths. I almost don’t hear her, my senses overwhelmed with all the chaos and new surroundings. “Welcome to Nebia,” she states with a laugh and a shocking slap to my backside. I jolt, frowning at her, attempting to rub yetanother ache away. “Don’t worry, these bunkers are protected by laser shields. We’ve built them all over Nebia. If you hear a siren, find the nearest one and wait,” she commands.

“Being stuck in a bunker with you is almost as worrying as the Scythians,” I jest, grimacing as I try to soothe my backside.

Thalaxia laughs, “Good, you should be worried, because I’ll be keeping a close eye on you,” she promises, an ominous glint in her orange eyes.

One of the numerous holographic screens projects the events from outside, capturing my attention. It depicts a close-up view of the bulky Voidbane ship, absorbing a barrage of blinding laser fire. The ship’s shields blaze a bright blue as purple sparks erupt at each point of impact. It’s not long before the plasma barriers blink out of existence, and a torrent of laser blasts rock and impale the ship.

The Scythian vessel lurches, engulfed in roaring fires and breaking apart, yet it clings to murderous life, delivering its own barrage aimed at the city sprawl. I gasp as the projection shifts to show the city. Malevolent orbs of searing blue death hurtle towards the buildings. Wincing, I watch the screen, resisting the urge to take cover, anticipating the horrible destruction. Then, to my amazement, the plasma blasts stop midair, halted by a glowing red laser shield.

I glance at Thalaxia with shock. She stands with hands on hips and a confident smile. “Nothing we Nebians can’t handle,” she declares amidst the cheering Nebians.

Yet a churning unease eats away at my insides. My mind grows hazy, doubled over with sudden overwhelming intensity. “What’s wrong?” Thalaxia inquires, her voice growing concerned.I don’t know!My aches grow more intense, gritting my teeth as waves of nauseous agony tear through me.

Thalaxia places a concerned arm over my back. “Tyrxie?” she insists. But I can’t answer, overcome with searing torture. Thenmy left eye erupts with blinding pain. I crumple to the ground, clutching my face, screaming in anguish. “Tyrxie!” Thalaxia shouts with alarm.

“My eye!” I shriek between throbs of agony. “It feels like it’s on fire,” I plead, racked by burning pain greater than even the brand.

“My scan shows nothing wrong with you,” Thalaxia declares as she kneels, taking my head in her thick, stubby hands. “Imperator’s balls!” she exclaims, her face full of shock as I struggle to keep my scorching eye open. “Your eyes are glowing.”

Glowing? What the void is happening to me?

Through blurry vision obscured by eye-watering pain and slight wisps of green, Thalaxia’s words ring true. Then, in an instant, all my throbbing aches disappear, washed away like a wiped stain. I gasp in shock as the crushing pressure of immense suffering lifts, leaving behind a churning anxiety.

Lingering within, I can sense something—presences of others, indistinct but real, fragments from countless distant pasts. They settle in the recesses of my mind, whispering, pleading, filling me with an urgent, gnawing dread. Unraveling my resistance, they draw me to the truth—the idea of a golden light, Xandor’s light, surrounded by darkness, a dying flickering flame lost in obsidian horror.

My heart twists to the point of bursting, the pressure building until it threatens to spill over in tears. I realize now that this overwhelming agony isn’t mine alone—it’s Xandor’s. He’s in terrible pain, and as I focus on his presence, the gut-wrenching sensation grows stronger. It’s so intense that I can only bear it in fleeting glimpses, each one an icy blade piercing my heart.

That strange dream—it was real!

“Xandor’s alive!” I shout, rising to my feet, my anguish transforming into furious resolve. “He’s being held by your people, isn’t he?” My eyes snap to the stunned Thalaxia.“Somewhere in that direction,” I gesture to my left, knowing without a doubt his general location.

“How...” Thalaxia stammers, her eyes downcast. “I only hold two Klendathians.”

Her words only stoke my righteous anger, “Don’t take me for a voiding idiot, Thalaxia.” I sneer, jabbing a finger at the uncertain Nebian. “You know where he is and what they’re doing to him. I can see it in your eyes,” I press, driven by a half-mad frenzy.

Thalaxia pauses, her mouth moving without a sound, while I silently urge her to speak the truth, to do the right thing. Her eyes snap to me, her face growing hard. “I cannot speak on matters of internal security.” She taps her temple before continuing. “The Praetorian Guard handles such affairs...you understand.”

This Praetorian Guard must have the darkest hearts.

My mouth twists with anger, whispering the ominous name. I thumb my locket in one hand and stroke the handle of my pistol with the other as my mind swirls with uncertainty. An insane, dangerous compulsion urges me to pull my gun on Thalaxia, to force her to take me to him, but with a deep breath, I relent, knowing such an action would only get us all killed.

“I swear on all the forces of the universe I will not stop until I see my Xandor,” I vow, meaning every word, knowing it may lead to my death.

Thalaxia’s expression softens, a flicker of empathy in her orange eyes. She glances around the bunker, then back at me, her voice low and urgent. “I’ve already said too much. The Praetorian Guards are ruthless and answer only to the Imperator. I won’t risk my life to help a Klendathian, no matter howhonorablehe is. I’m sorry, lass.”

The fear and concern on her face are palpable, promising immense dangers for the task ahead. But my determination remains strong. “This is more than saving one Klendathian.It’s a chance for peace between your peoples. Isn’t that worth the attempt? Look around you,” I gesture to the other Nebians crowded in the bunker. “Do you want to go on living like this forever? And what if your people can’t win? What then?”

Thalaxia stares at me, weighing my words with a critical eye. The tension hangs heavy as my heart thunders in my chest, hoping my plea has moved her. She sighs, glancing around to ensure no one is eavesdropping. “I can’t aid you directly. But I can release your crew, the non-Klendathians. I’ll arrange for you all to be housed together while my investigation continues. Let’s call it a clerical error.”

Will the crew even want to help?

It’s a start, but the crew is a self-interested bunch. Convincing Job and Mob, especially, will be difficult, since they are clever enough to understand that the odds are against us. Quad might be happy just to bash something. Hyanxa—maybe she can be persuaded to help, for Noroth’s sake, although is her commitment for him deep enough?

I hide my uncertainty with a forced smile, “Thanks, Thalaxia, you—”

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