Guardian Awakening (20 page)

Tristan paused.

“So, to summarise, I need one of the capital ships with minor damage to have its computer modified with a Sicceian interface and then filled with powerful explosives. The main fleet and all the available fighters and light ships must be prepared for battle and then we will deploy the fighters and small ships around behind the asteroid field, keeping them out of sensor range of the Sicceians. Once the ship explodes amongst the Sicceian fleet, the Mylian forces have to be ready to attack. We cannot give the Sicceians any time to recover, so speed and timing are important. Any questions?” Tristan looked round the room.
 

Clayandra was the first to break the silence. “Well I don’t know why you are all still sitting here! I suggest you get to it and undertake what Tristan has requested.” She glared around the room. “Now!”

They all filed out, leaving Clayandra and Tristan alone. She stood and walked over to him, a broad smile on her face. She reminded Tristan of a cat stalking its prey. He took a small backward step as she moved close. “Well, come along then, we had better go and ensure that everything is being done to your satisfaction.” She almost purred the words.
 

Tristan smiled wryly, trying to shake off the impression
he
was the mouse. ‘Umm… OK, but I don’t know my way round or where I’m supposed to go.”

“Well just stay close to me, I will be your guide and aide” Her smile broadened, and Tristan suppressed a shudder; the mouse was caught. She turned to walk out of the conference room. “Follow me, Sir.” She laughed and held out her hand.

The next few days went quickly. Clayandra stuck close by him, proving herself to be indispensable despite his misgivings. It was if she had a split personality; with him she was flirty and giggly, but with everyone else she was in command, steel in her voice. She ensured that everything got done. Even the most senior officers jumped to it when she was there. Tristan was at a disadvantage, no one knew him other than the crew of ‘his’ Sicceian cruiser. The colonists he had rescued were dispersed across the planet.
 

By the morning of the fifth day everything was ready. Tristan had tested the computer system on the ship filled with the explosive devices, and everything worked to his satisfaction. The detonators were connected to the telepathic interface so he could trigger them as soon as the ship was in position. He would have preferred nuclear bombs, but they had been banned many centuries before and no one used them.
 

The fleet assembled in geostationary orbit above Mylia using the planet as a shield from the Sicceian sensors. The fighters left first, as they had to go round behind the asteroid belt and hide amongst the asteroids avoiding detection by the Sicceians. The time came for the main fleet to depart, so Tristan went aboard his captured Sicceian cruiser accompanied by Clayandra. The Mylian admiral was on the flagship leading the main fleet.
 

Tristan felt his stomach twist and knot as he walked on to the cruisers bridge. Clayandra walked straight to the XO’s chair and acknowledged the crew who had stood to attention when she entered.
 

Tristan settled himself in the captain’s chair. “To your posts everyone, let’s kick some Sicceian ass!” With a final look round at the expectant faces he took a deep breath ready to gave the order to start the attack.

Last minute sensor checks showed the Sicceian fleet holding steady, tightly packed above their expanding base. The coordinates for the centre of the fleet were already set into the computer of the bomb ship.
 

He brought the bomb ship’s computers online. “Engage the star drive now.”
The Mylian fleet was already in orbit around Mylia. As soon as Tristan’s two ships engaged their Star Drives they readied themselves for the order to attack.

The two ships jumped. Tristan prepared himself for the Star Drive to shut down. Through the viewport stars became rainbow streaks, and seconds later there was a small jolt the stars became points of light. Tristan accessed the sensors. The Sicceian fleet was below them, the Bomb ship off to one side. He quickly regained contact with the onboard computer, and using the ship’s sensors, he manoeuvred the bomb ship as near as he could to the centre of the Sicceian formation. The Sicceians had not yet reacted. No ship would normally exit the Star Drive so near other ships; it was too dangerous, there was a risk of collision or materialising within another ship. Tristan was not concerned, the resulting explosion would have almost the same effect anyway. Through the ship’s sensors he checked the Sicceian readiness. The two closest ships were just bringing their weapons on line. He disconnected his mind from the ship’s sensors and detonated the explosives.

Their ship bucked, sensor systems overloaded. It took a few moments for his crew to bring the ship back under control. The sensors took a few seconds longer to recover. The result exceeded his expectations. At least half of the Sicceian fleet was damaged or destroyed. Tristan shuddered; the death and destruction was massive. A large section of a destroyed ship slowly and gracefully spun past the front view port, spewing debris and bodies like some giant macabre Catherine Wheel.

“Clayandra, please order the main attack.”

As Tristan had hoped, some of the remaining Sicceian ships turned to pursue the emerging fighters into the asteroid field where the smaller Mylian ships would have the advantage. Tristan selected five Sicceian ships off to one side of the main fleet. He ordered the pilot to turn towards them. As his ship drew closer he shut down the enemy computer systems and disabled their weapons targeting. His crew went into action, taking advantage of the crippled Sicceians. Three ships were immediately disabled. Tristan commanded the ship to swing round and pass the other two Sicceian ships. Again, the gunners made short work of the enemy ships engines and crippled them. A second pass and the weapons systems were taken out. One of the ships exploded, and debris hit Tristan’s ship. He felt it shudder.
 

Through the sensor system, Tristan detected a Sicceian cruiser had manoeuvred behind them and was targeting his ship’s engines. Gripping the arms of his chair, sweat beading upon his brow, he connected with the Sicceian cruiser’s computer and caused the ship to veer to one side just as it fired. The salvo missed vital parts of his ship but caught one of the manoeuvring thrusters. The ship shook again as part of the thruster assembly spun away in space. Damage control immediately isolated that section.
 

The Sicceian cruiser was turning back to take another shot as Tristan forced access to the computer to shut down the systems. At that moment, the main Mylian fleet arrived. The first salvo destroyed the cruiser just as he gained control. The destruction exploded in his head. He jerked his head back as if he’d been hit by an iron bar. For a moment his mind teetered on the edge of consciousness, and he tasted blood in his mouth. His shoulders were being shaken. He heard a voice as if from the end of a long tunnel.

“Tristan! Tristan, are you all right?” He opened his eyes and a face swum into view. Clayandra, standing above him, shook him again.
 

He blinked. “Yes, yes I think so.” He wiped his brow, his hands shaking.

“Your mouth is bleeding.” She held his chin in her hand, turning his head.

He swallowed. “I have bitten my tongue, that’s all.” He moved his head back from her hand. “I’m fine, let’s get on with it.”
 

Clayandra returned to her chair. “If you’re sure.”

“Yes, don’t worry.”

Tristan restored his connection with his own ship’s sensors. The two fleets were now more or less evenly matched in numbers. However, the superiority of the Sicceian ships began to show against the Mylian fleet. Tristan swung his cruiser above the melee of ships. The thruster damage made the ship slow and cumbersome, so it would be dangerous to enter the battle, because they would be a sitting duck. There was a group of enemy ships working together, giving good account of themselves, systematically isolating Mylian ships and destroying them. He thought quickly,
I have to do something or the battle could still go the Sicceians way.
 
The group of enemy ships were moving ever closer to Tristan’s crippled ship.

There were too many of them for him to tackle alone. The furthest were just out of range for the telepathic computer access to work anyway. There was only one solution. He sighed; he would have to combine himself with the closest ship’s computer, but when he had done it before accidentally he nearly lost himself. He remembered the addictive power the link had given him as his mind had teetered on the edge of madness. But if he did not do it they would certainly lose and die anyway.
Here goes!
He relaxed back in his chair and accessed the enemy computer on a large battle ship that was closing on them fast.

He did not hold back, pushing forward he combined his mind with the cold intelligence. Power surged around him. The thrust of the engines, the trembling of his hull as weapons fired, the minds of the crew directing, commanding.
 

He had almost infinite ability, knowledge, he could soar through the infinite reaches of the galaxy. He was the ship, cold calculating emotionless, but for the core that was still human. He looked at the puny minds connected to his systems. He ripped them apart, freeing himself. He turned his weapons on the ships threatening the Mylian ship, where his limited human body lay. He struck out with all the power at his disposal. He was faster and more accurate than anything around him. He was not directed by dozens of simple minds, he was just
THE SHIP
. The ship was dancing a deadly dance, turning the battle in favour of the Mylians. Still enough of Tristan’s essence remained to ensure only Sicceian ships were destroyed.
 

There was suddenly a change, damage. There was no pain, should there be pain? He could not access all of his body, more and more parts become unavailable. The dance became slow and laboured, power draining from him. He manoeuvred himself into the centre of a group of Sicceian ships. He gathered together all the power at his disposal and released it all at once. There was a blinding flash, and his mind shattered into a million pieces. There was a brief sadness for what he had lost, then came the welcoming darkness of oblivion.

Chapter Thirteen: Admiral Clayandrian.

Vague shapes and lights moved around him, sensations and sound that meant… something? He groaned, then blackness. Lights returned, shapes moved. Someone touched his forehead with cool hands. Tristan’s head felt as if it was being beaten from the inside by a hammer. Voices and faces faded in and out and he had strange dreams. Sometimes they were pleasant ones, other times not. Many of his dreams centred on a beautiful alien with eyes of brilliant blue.

He opened his eyes. He was lying in a sunlit room with a large window. There were chairs around his bed and a table to one side. He smelt a faint hint of spicy perfume and it niggled at his memory, but he could not place it. He touched the scar on his forehead.
Was this the room they put him in after his transplanted interface had fused? Had they removed the failed interface?
He shook his head but it failed to clear. He tried to rise, but the instant he did his vision flashed to intense white, as if his head would explode. He lay back down and sighed. The strange dreams he had been having of beautiful aliens, distant planets, powerful spaceships, were fading. He wondered if Sarah had been to visit him; he lay still and savoured the peace and quiet. Occasionally he heard voices outside his room, but he could not make out what they were saying.
 

He was hovering just on the edge of sleep when the door of his room opened. Turning his head with an effort he tried to see who it was. The half formed smile froze on his lips. His heart jumped, his greeting turned to a faint gurgle in his throat.
I’m still dreaming!
It was not a nurse or Sarah as he had expected, but one of the aliens he had been dreaming about. She had an air of authority about her and was accompanied by the smell of spice he had been unable to place.
 

She smiled a radiant smile at him when she saw he was awake and said something. He shook his head and said “I don’t understand” in English.
 

She frowned at what he had said, walked over to him, and laid a cool hand on his forehead. Tristan lay rigid at her touch, watching. She was strangely beautiful but very alien; her skin had a slight green tint to it with darker patches running from her neck up either side of her face like large freckles. On her head, where her hair should, be were low ridges running from her forehead to the nape of her neck. The only hair he could see were long eyelashes over red albino like eyes.

She said something else, but Tristan did not understand. With a shake of his head he asked where he was. The alien’s frown deepened; she ran her hand gently down the side of Tristan’s face and turned towards the door. A few moments later, she returned with another alien. This one looked male and had a higher central ridge on his head. He was dressed like a doctor wearing scrubs. He walked over to Tristan and said something. Tristan took a gulp of air, filling his lungs, feeling a scream building from the pit of his stomach he shook his head, his pulse racing, blood pounding in his ears. The scream came out as a faint croak. He could not breathe, he fought for breath trying to rise. Firm hands held him down. There was a stabbing pain in his arm the room wavered and vanished along with the strange aliens.

When he woke the memory of the aliens was vivid.
That was the most realistic dream I have ever had.
He opened his eyes slowly. The ‘doctor’ was standing over him with a slight smile playing on his lips. It was no dream! He was living in a nightmare or some alternative reality. His heart started to flutter in his chest. He balled his hands into fists in an effort to control the returning panic. He took a deep breath forcing himself to relax.
Wherever I am I will just go with it.
The doctor removed an instrument from his pocket and with gentle hands looked into Tristan’s eyes with it. He turned to the female by his side and said something. She nodded and sat down on one of the chairs by Tristan’s bed. She gently took one of Tristan’s hands in hers and smiled at him. It was if this creature knew him. Tristan’s head was spinning. Was he still in the dream? The alien talked to him in low soft tones, but he had no idea what she was saying.