She tilted her head to one side. “Tristan, we have a daughter.”
Tristan’s knees buckled, and he sat down hard in his chair. He heard a gasp beside him.
“That’s impossible, you’re lying!” Da’ren’s voice came from the end of a long tunnel.
Tristan wiped his brow with a trembling hand “Yes! Aesia, you told me yourself it was impossible, so how?”
She shook her head as far as the collar would allow. “No one knows, but she looks like you; she has your eyes. We have had to keep her hidden on my Father’s estate. If anyone saw her they would kill her as an abomination.” A shudder shook her body. “My Father believes in all races living in peace. Tristain is proof we are the same. She is the herald to a new age.”
“Tristain?”
“Yes, I named her after you.” Aeisa sighed, watching him, the shackles holding her in the chair. Her eyes glistened and she blinked. No way would she show weakness. She glanced at Da’ren then back to Tristan. Realisation flashed across her face “You… You are Admiral Clayandrian?”
Tristan inclined his head. “Yes.”
Aesia gasped. “You have to speak with my father, Tristan… Please.”
“Your father is dead.” Da’ren’s sudden interjection followed by Aesia’s cry of “No!” rang in his ears. Things were moving too fast. He needed time to think. What if she were telling the truth? The only way to find out was to touch her mind. To do so would re-establish the link they shared, but the connection he had kept locked away in the deepest corner of his memory. He couldn’t do it here in front of Da’ren and the prison guard.
Tristan turned to the Lieutenant who stood gaping in the doorway during the whole exchange. “Lieutenant, please escort this female back to her cell.”
The officer looked surprised at being addressed. He stood blinking for a moment then jumped to do as Tristan requested. They unclipped the neck restraint from the chair and forced Aesia to her feet. Tristan noticed she was trembling as they pushed her out of the door.
Once the guards had moved away down the corridor, Da’ren turned to him. “Have you mated with that Sicceian?”
“Yes Da’ren.”
Da’ren gaped at him. Tristan saw his mouth work, trying to form words. It seemed an age before he spoke. “But you never said anything, why not?”
Tristan stared at his friend for a moment before replying. “Two reasons; first I thought she had either betrayed me or had been killed.”
“And second?”
“Second, would I have been trusted all those years ago if it had been known I had a Sicceian as a mate?”
“Hmm. I suppose it would have made things difficult.” Da’ren paused for a moment then continued. “That explains why you always fend off the advances of all the high born females who are constantly throwing themselves at you.”
Tristan shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “Yes, I have to, She -” Tristan nodded towards the open door. “- is always in my head.”
Da’ren sat forward in his chair “What are you going to do?”
Tristan shrugged. “I don’t know. What can I do?”
“Nothing. There is a legend which states, once the witches have your soul the only escape is death.” Da’ren paused for a moment. “Your reputation is assured. If you acknowledged her existence, it won’t make any difference.”
“Hum… I think for the moment the fewer people who know the better.”
Da’ren lent back in his chair. “You should consider that if peace became a possibility it would act as a bridge between the Sicceians and the League.”
“Really?”
“Yes Tristan, don’t underestimate your importance. You spend all your time planning, working towards victory and eventual peace, you don’t pay much attention to popular opinion. As far as the general population of the League Worlds are concerned, You, the mysterious Admiral Clayandrian, are the League.”
Tristan rose. “I have to talk to her alone. Please carry on with your normal duties, Admiral Da’ren.”
“Yes Sir.” Da’ren stood, saluted, and walked out.
Tristan took a deep breath. He had faced many dangers and risked death often, but now his stomach filled with butterflies. “Oh good God, I’ve not been this nervous in years.” He walked out turning towards the cell block.
Aesia stood in the corner of her cell, fists clenched, staring at the wall. I will not cry. I will not show these monsters weakness. She ground her teeth. Admiral Clayandrian, the scourge of the Sicceian Empire, was Tristan, the alien she had brought from an unknown world. He had become a brute who for the last four years killed her people in their thousands. Then under an agreed truce killed most of the peace delegation and her father.
She had mourned him as Tristan, who was the father of her daughter. But Admiral Clayandrian! She smashed a clenched fist against the wall drawing blood. If they don’t want peace it was her duty to escape and kill Admiral Clayandrian.
There were voices outside. Aesia turned and in three quick steps stood against the wall next to the door. She took a deep breath to calm her anger and racing heart. It was time for action, her training took over. She flexed her muscles, organising her senses as she had been shown by her mother since she had returned home. Time slowed, she became aware of dust motes hanging suspended in front of her, the low rumble of voices behind the door followed by silence
Unexpectedly she heard footsteps moving away. She started to relax from her fighting stance. The guard was leaving, not entering her cell. The door opened. She cursed her mistake, being caught unprepared. Unbalanced she swung her fist round in an attempt to catch the person entering in the upper body.
The guard blocked the blow with his arm. He grunted in pain as the side of her hand smashed against his forearm. She twisted round in an attempt to land a kick and knock the guard back. It would give her a few seconds to regain her concentration. He deflected her kick easily and twisted using her lack of balance to his advantage he grabbed both her arms in an iron grip pulled them across her body pulling her back, tight against him. She smashed her head back, hoping to hit him in the face but only managed to bang against his chest.
“Aesia. Stop.”
She struggled against him, but he tightened his hold. “You killed my Father!” She hissed between clenched teeth.
His sigh ruffled her hair. “No I did not. It was one of your delegates, he had intended to kill me.”
“You lie! Why would we do that when we sought peace?” She tried to twist away, but his hold tightened like a vice. His warm breath on her ear and the side of her face the hard muscles of his arms and chest distracted her. “I hate you!”
“No you don’t.”
She shuddered her body was betraying her. “Let me go!”
“No, not until you calm down.”
“What happened then?”
“Our security detected something in one of the delegates. When they moved to detain him he set it off. Your Father was killed instantly in the blast, along with the other two negotiators and our security. One of my best Admirals was also killed.”
Aesia relaxed in an attempt to get Tristan to loosen his grip, but he continued to hold her tightly.
“We believe your father was a secondary target. Once the bomber had been discovered, he moved closer to your father before setting the bomb off.”
She attempted to pull away. “Why should I believe you when you hold a barrier against me?”
“I’m sorry I’ve held my mind closed for so long, it’s become second nature. I don’t know I’m doing it.”
He took a deep breath and lowered his guard; she felt a gentle presence that had been missing for so long, like a soft caress. All he had told her about her father’s death there for her to see.
She sighed and slumped against him. He released the iron grip on her arms so she could twist round and face him. She felt the effect that her nearness was having on him and smiled. She stood on tiptoe and gently kissed him. The touch lit a long dormant
flame the fire spread through her body, she pulled back slightly to take a breath, and their eyes locked.
The telepathic link fanned the flames. Her whole body tingled.
“Aesia.”
Her head tilted slightly. “Yes?”
“We have a daughter?”
A smile played on her lips. “Yes, why?”
“It’s so strange. We evolved on planets thousands of light years apart.” Tristan shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m sorry, please can we start again?”
She sighed “Yes, of course.” She pulled his hands behind her pressing, her body tightly to his. Releasing her grip, she put her arms around his neck pulling him down to her. The heat crushed between their bodies as he tightened his arms around her waist. Her heart racing, her blood was as liquid lava sweeping through her veins. She stepped back, “Not here, don’t you have a cabin somewhere private?”
“Yes. Keep your head down and stay close to me. I have already dismissed the guard outside the cell door.”
Aesia did as he requested, and holding his hand kept her eyes down. They hurried through numerous corridors, ducking through side doors. Tristan avoided a direct route back to his cabin so that no one saw them. When they reached the Admiral’s suite, he opened the door, pulled her through then turned lifted her up and carried her to the bedroom.
Much later, Tristan lay on his side with his head on his hand, watching Aesia sleeping. Some of her long, fair hair had fallen across her face. He carefully brushed it away. Her eyelids fluttered, and she opened her eyes. He looked into them and felt himself drowning in their perfect blue. She smiled; for the first time in four years, he felt whole again.
He lay back and pulled her to him. She rested her head in the crook of his arm. “Tell me what happened to you after we landed on that Cruiser.”
She shifted position, lay an arm across his chest and sighed. “As soon as we landed on the cruiser, I realised I had made a mistake. You were an alien, and therefore a lower form of life. They knew we had been together for a long time, coupled with the green in my eyes, and with the computer scan confirmation they decided I was little better than the animal I had consorted with; I had brought shame on myself and my family. They stripped me of my rank and transported me back to my home world. It is tradition that the family decides what to do with a member who brings shame to them.” He felt her shudder. “I had a strong impression the Captain wanted to deal with me himself.”
“You mean a termination?”
“Y.. Y.. Yes.” The word caught in her throat.
Tristan waited patiently until she was ready to continue. She added, “They took you away for study and dissection. I had as good as killed you myself.” She squeezed him tightly, as if trying to protect them both from what happened.
“During the journey home I was so depressed I had lost you, I considered ending it all.”
Tristan kissed her forehead. “I’m glad you didn’t!”
Aesia continued, “My father collected me when I arrived. He was not angry at all. He just asked me about you. It was then I found out he believed we should respect other races, not enslave them. My Grandfather had told him about evidence he found on a deserted planet that we might all have descended from one ancient species. The fact I was carrying an alien’s child reinforced his belief.”
She started to cry. “And now he is dead for his beliefs. I want to see them pay for that!” There was a flash of hardness in her, which Tristan sensed for a moment. It reminded him of the Aesia he had first known.
She wiped her tears and continued, “My mother was understanding and looked after me during my confinement. When our beautiful daughter was born, my mother looked after us both. We had to keep Tristain hidden. The Sicceian authorities would kill her in an instant if they knew of her existence.” She sighed. “I remembered my father being fascinated by her eyes. He often said that he would have liked to have met her father.”
Her eyes started to fill with tears again; she shook her head. Tristan held her close waiting for her to recover.
After a while, she was able to carry on with her narrative. “When Tristain was old enough to be left with my mother I went to work in my father’s office. That is how I became one of his aides for what was supposed to be a historic meeting.”
Tristan caressed her cheek. “It was, for us, my love.” She nodded and buried her head in his chest.
Her breathing became soft and regular, she had fallen asleep again. Grief, stress, and their lovemaking had exhausted her. Tristan gazed at the ceiling. The empty desolate part of his mind he had kept locked away had gone. Her presence was there now, where it should be, a gentle caress, an intimacy he could not experience with anyone else.
His mind drifted. If it were possible to eliminate the desperate faction who wanted to continue the war at any cost, including using suicide bombers, then most Sicceians would accept a peace.
If they could be flushed out and neutralised then peace would be more certain, but how could that be accomplished? They were hardly going to give themselves away voluntarily. There must be some way?
Aesia moaned in her sleep. Tristan held his breath while she shifted position so as not to wake her. An idea came to him, how exploit the Sicceians weakness! A plan began to form in his mind.
Chapter Sixteen: The Plan
Tristan sat in the lounge section of his quarters, staring out the view port. Countless stars shone back at him. The Milky Way arched across thick and dense in this region of space. The ever-present hum of the ship masked Aesia’s breathing as she lay sleeping in the bed across the room.
The steward had knocked to tidy his room, but Tristan had sent him away.
Aesia was an integral part of the plan he had devised and had to be willing to help. It would put her in danger, something Tristan was reluctant to do, but he could think of no alternative.
“Tristan?” Aesia’s sleepy voice interrupted his train of thought.
“Yes, I’m here.”
He stood and walked over to the bed. She stretched languorously and smiled up at him. Her long hair scattered across the pillow framing her face. “What time is it?”
“Late afternoon.”
“Oh, you let me sleep.” She held up her arms. “Come here.”
A while later they sat at Tristan’s dining table, eating an evening meal he had delivered to his quarters. He waited until Aesia had finished.
“Aesia?”
She looked up, wiping her mouth with a napkin. “Yes?” She tilted her head to one side.
“I have a plan to speed the ending of this war I need to discuss with you.” He sensed her demeanour harden.
“And punish those who murdered my father?”
Tristan nodded. “Yes, that too. But it’s not without risk.”
She smiled. “Now I have you back I can face anything.”
Tristan took a deep breath and sighed. “We need to know who in the Sicceian government are responsible for sabotaging the peace talks. I have ensured there is an information blackout here so no one outside our small flotilla knows what happened. If you return home as if nothing has happened, I’m sure they will try to contact you one way or another. They will be desperate to know why you have returned unharmed and alone.”
Aeisa frowned. “Yes, but how does that help?”
“I will be with you.”
Aesia’s eyes went wide. “What? No they will kill you!”
Tristan smiled. “They won’t even see me. You will lead me to them, and I will get the information without them even knowing.”
Aesia stared at him. “How?”
“You have a slave society, do you take any notice of personal slaves?”
She shook her head “No… They are ignored.” Her puzzled expression suddenly changed to understanding. “You will pretend to be my personal slave?”
“Yes.”
She was silent for a moment. “You could go anywhere I go, no one would even give you a second glance.” She paused to think. �
�But how would you get the information you need?”
Tristan glanced down at his hands for a moment before replying. I have learnt a lot since we were last together Aeisa. “I can get the information directly from a Sicceian’s mind, control them and make them do things, even things they don’t want to do.”
A look of horror crossed her face. “Can you control me in that way?”
Tristan shook his head. “No, there is a risk your mind could be permanently damaged. It can even kill if I’m not careful.” Aesia sat silently looking at him. He smiled shyly at her. “Because of our unique connection, you would sense it instantly.” She reached across the table, and Tristan took her hands in his. His hands tingled at her touch.
“You will need to be convincing when you treat me as your slave, can you do that Aesia?”
She laughed, eyes sparkling. “Oh yes, very easily.”
Tristan smiled wryly. “Hmm… I’m sure it will be.”
“Now, I have to convince the senior officers and the Emperor that it will work. I will have to get them to agree to let me go, and I will be safe with you.” Tristan rose and walked to the door. Before he turned the handle, he turned back to Aeisa. “Stay here out of sight and wait until I get back. Lock the door after I leave and I will ensure the guard does not grant anyone entry. You’re not safe here on your own, many of the crew would kill you as soon as they saw you and think nothing of it.”
Aesia shuddered. “Don’t worry, I have no intention of exploring your ship.”
“OK see you soon then.” Tristan opened the door and stepped out. He paused while he heard her turn the lock. The guard had changed. Tristan walked up to him. “Terantin isn’t it?”
“Yes Sir.” He saluted and stood stiffly to attention.
‘No one is to enter my quarters while I’m away, and that includes the stewards, is that clear?”
“Yes Sir!”
“Good.” Tristan walked through to his ready room behind the ship’s bridge. He sat down with his elbows resting on his desk fingers pressed together. He pursed his lips. Is this the right thing to do, what alternatives are there? He counted them off as he thought of them.
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