Page 91 of Alien Captain's Prisoner

Soon, we’re running again. Our path is easy, and I don’t even need my mental map to chart it out. We simply follow the open doors.

We beat the odds and burst into the loading bay without having encountered another soul. The air in the huge bay is thin, but it’s already recharging and thickening from the venting earlier. In any event, there are no Aurelians passed out from asphyxiation or waiting to confront us.

So far, this escape plan has caused no casualties. Tools litter the ground where Aurelians dropped them in their haste to escape the deadly loading bay – but, apparently, they all did so.

The bay’s doors are now wide open, ready for a ship to leave through them. I can see through the haze of the air-field that locks the oxygen inside, and it looks like our escape route is still clear.

The moon that orbits Tarrion is pale and huge in front of us. I expect to see tiny dots as Reavers launch from the surface to pursue us, but if they’re taking off, the moon is thankfully too far away to see them yet. We’ll have just enough of a head start to give us a fighting chance.

Behind the moon and the planet of Tarrion is the endless emptiness of space.

It’s familiar. I’ve been living in the emptiness of space for the last decade. Three of those years have been under my own command, as captain of the Wayward Scythe – my loyal little ship that still rests on the opposite side of the loading bay.

I gaze out into space for a moment. It feels like…home. I’ve barely felt solid ground beneath my feet in years, except on space stations where I’ve unloaded both my illicit and legal wares. The loneliness of space yawns in front of me, but I welcome the sight of it. Soon, I’ll be swallowed up into that nothingness – never to be found.

The loading bay is huge. I remember how scared I was when I first faced Captain Aelon here. At the time, I’d never thought he’d have such an effect on me. My life will never be the same again – and nor will his. The three aliens are scarred onto my being until the day I die, just as I am on theirs.

It feels like a lifetime ago that we were sucked into the belly of this ship – and, indeed, it’s like I’ve transitioned from one life to another while I’ve been here.

I falter with the Bond, weakening my mute on it. For a second, the auras of my three Aurelians lovers become crystal clear – sharp and vivid, before I can force them back down to almost nothingness in my consciousness.

Their auras are filled with fear, confusion, and horror. They’reterrifiedof losing me.

They’ll have to suffer that pain, though – just as I’ll suffer my own pain.

“Sawoot? Let’s see if that card works.”

“On it, boss.” She picks the closest functional Reaver and scans her card on the entry chip. The doors to the attack ship open.

I walk to my old ship to say goodbye. The Wayward Scythe is bigger than the Reavers, and significantly clunkier, but it’s got a third of the power and barely any armaments.

My old ship is pitted with scars from countless close escapes. Unlike The Instigator, my ship got her wounds from running away from fights, not powering head-first into them. It took all my money and a big loan to afford this ship in the first place – the first one of my own.

But the Wayward Scythe is worthless compared to a Reaver.

Reavers are the smallest vessels in the Aurelian fleet, but that’s not saying much. They’re still made for the huge, alien species – and scaled to match. I step through the hatch of our new Reaver, whistling softly under my breath.

It’s spartan inside. There are two gunning stations, a cockpit, three small bedrooms and a brig for carrying prisoners. Those are the only main rooms aboard this assault ship. These vessels are made for long journeys and short combat engagements – normally manned by a single, Bonded triad.

Now, we’re the trio who’ll be taking the helm – me, Sawoot and Theme.

“I’ll take the controls,” I order. “You two are on gunning duty. We’ve got to get out of here before the ships on that moon close the distance. We’ve got a good head start, but I don’t want to leave anything to chance.”

“Yes, Captain,” Sawoot and Theme chorus.

I sit down in the huge commander’s chair. The ship is built for an Aurelian triad – a triad of men significantly larger than me. I’m practically swallowed up in the seat, but I can still see out the huge, tempered glass cockpit easily enough.

The controls are unfamiliar at first, but adjusting to them is a matter of instinct for a pilot like me. My hands quickly figure them out, almost without conscious thought.

I press down on the thrusters and we lift up silently. I’m used to the roar of engines, but Reavers are powered by an Orb – so the acceleration is smoother and faster than my old hulk.

Theme and Sawoot take to the gunnery stations, looking small and childlike in those massive, oversized seats as I do in the commander’s chair.

Each of them now has the controls of an Orb-Beam – a fearsome weapon that can lay out enough power to take out three Toad assault ships in the blink of an eye. If I’d had this Reaver, I wouldn’t have had to run from that Toad Captain – and we’d never have ended up on The Instigator.

I’d have never been Bonded to Aelon, Vinicus and Iunia.

Sawoot glances back to the loading bay as I hover in front of the air-field. I hesitate. This isit.

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