Page 42 of Torn from the Alien Commander

“If you’re sure...” I state with a lingering, uncertain look. The others stand impatient and idle, signaling it’s time to go. Thesooner we find Xandor, the less chance Felixus will keel over. “Let’s go,” I declare.

We stalk out of the armory, now probably the best-equipped mercenary crew ever to grace the universe—hoping we don’t need it. But Kaanus always said:Failing to plan is planning to fail.And I’m not planning to take any chances. Every fiber of my being screams to charge down those stairs to find Xandor, but I can’t risk the others’ lives—I’d never forgive myself.

The entrance to the stairwell looms, a dark, yawning space stretching up and down. The air here is cooler, a refreshing contrast against my clammy skin. Solid metal stairs lead both directions and I take tentative steps, creeping downward. The ground creaks under my weight, causing me to wince, but I press onward, alert to any danger.

A dozen steps down, the stairs shift back on themselves, leading to the next level—where Xandor suffers. Two purple-armored guards stand with their backs turned, causing me to halt in my tracks, my heart thumping in my chest. I signal back to Hyanxa, who nods in acknowledgement before passing the information to the others.

Like a creeping shadow, I descend, each step a delicate caress. My muscles coiled and ready to act in a flash. I level my gun at the guard to my left, wondering what my next move should be until the thudding footsteps of the humming Quad crush such naïve thoughts.

The guards turn towards the stairwell, greeted by volleys of my laser rifle. I roar in defiance, not firing precision bursts, but unloading a barrage of crimson beams at this close range—the best option. My targets’ shields warp and bend, absorbing the onslaught. I leap to the side, dodging their deadly retaliatory shots.

Midair, I continue my assault until the jarring thud of my fall from the remaining stairs rattles my aim. My heart drops, andI wince as a blast strikes me in the chest, expecting the pain, expecting my death, only to find my laser shield shimmering like a crimson miracle. “Intruders!” A guard roars as I scurry along the ground, trying to angle around the stairs.

I fire over my shoulder as the sound of snaps and whizzes whirl overhead in a frantic cacophony. Some blasts singe the surrounding walls, forcing me to duck further as the scent of partially melted arcweave and burned dust fills my senses.

Then, as quick as it started, a surprising silence lingers. “You can stop shitting yourself now,” Hyanxa declares with a laugh. I peek out in disbelief to see Hyanxa, Mod, and Job aligned on the stairs, their bearings proud, their weapons glowing, aimed at the two collapsed guards.

Elated, I leap out of cover, dusting myself off. “Void, I’ve never been shot before. Thanks.” I beam towards the others.

Hyanxa smiles. “We’ve got your back, Tyrxie.”

Quad and Felixus lumber down the stairs, both labored, carrying their gigantic weapons. “Ah, I missed it,” Quad laments with a drooping head.

“You bring plasma grinder to hammer nail? Yes?” Job quips as Quad thuds down the stairs, each step seeming to vibrate the entire area.

My pulse races as I look down the now empty corridor, feeling Xandor is close. A sudden frantic need grips me, sending me running down the metal passageway as quickly as I can.

I’m here Xandor, I’m coming!

I reach a heavily fortified door on the left, knowing with absolute certainty he lies beyond. But the door won’t open. I bang on the hateful barrier with my rifle. “Open you bastard!” I scream, my eyes threatening to spill tears, my desperation too much. Standing back, I unleash a torrent of laser blasts, the streaks almost blinding, the sparks stinging my hands, but I can’t stop.

“Wait for void’s sake! Before you fuse the seam,” Felixus reprimands, causing me to lower my weapon, my breathing haggard and hands shaking. He sets down the massive sword and moves to a nearby terminal that feels like an eternity. “Only the most special cell for our Xandor—the bloody door has its own private security terminal, if you can believe it.”

“Open it,” I command, my tone devoid of any concern beyond seeing him.

“Give me a second. This is tricky.”

“Open it!” I scream, my chest rising and falling, my hands strangling my rifle.

Felixus doesn’t reply, only the sound of his hands darting over the holographic terminal reaches me. The door slides open with a hiss, bellowing plumes of compressed air obscure my vision, thick with the scent of blood and sweat.

No Xandor!

I rush forward, my heart pounding. As I penetrate the smoke, I see him—Xandor, shackled and weak. “Xandor!” I scream in horror, seeing the horrific abuse they’ve inflicted on him. Tears stream down my face and I fall to my knees.Why didn’t I come sooner? Why did I take so long?

It hurts too much to look upon him, his left arm cruelly cut off, his head drooping, his breathing faint as a whisper—a shadow of the glorious hero I grew to love.How could they do this to him? Why did they destroy my Xandor?I sob, overcome with hatred and despair, until to my shock I notice the glowing red collar resting beneath his green hair.

“Void...” Felixus mutters, his voice trailing off behind, but I barely hear him.

I rush over to remove the hateful collar that burns the mind with the heat of a blazing sun. “Hold on, Xandor!” I yell, touching his skin, shocked by how cold and pale he is, clingingto life with the faintest flicker. Tip-toeing, I reach the collar, shifting it forward.

“Behind you!” Felixus roars, prompting me to perform a frantic tumble. The world spins until I right myself, seeing a massive mechanical robot with an array of horrific instruments in each arm. It moves with surprising grace and speed, filling me with terror. I raise my rifle, flicking it to lethal mode, blasting it with a hail of laser beams, but it only slows the machine, scorching and burning its armored surface.

It dashes towards me, swinging a red cutting laser, forcing me to leap back on nimble feet. “Get out of the way. We can’t get a clear shot!” Hyanxa yells from the entrance. But I can’t. The terrifying machine presses me with pitiless speed. I rain a hail of laser fire as I leap back, struggling to maintain my distance, until I feel the solid wall at my back.

Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide.

The white machine, riddled with holes, looms closer with its red laser instrument, dazzling my eyes. Averting my gaze, I catch a flicker of movement above. A rotund Nebian with brown hair watches from a window—his wicked smirk, the smirk of a sadist, boils my blood. With my heart-pounding driven by utter hatred, I aim at the torturer.

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