Though Da'an had no access to a clock or anything of the sort, she guessed that about an hour had passed since Maedra had last come to see her. The entire situation had left her shaken and fearful, though she berated herself for thinking so.
As a Taelon, she had never truly been afraid for her life. Oh, she had been in more life-threatening situations than she could remember, but the self-preservation instinct was sorely lacking in her species. As a distracting and uncomfortable feeling simmered in her stomach and left her trembling and overly apprehensive, she wondered if this particular human trait was an advantage or not.
The Tru'del. They had chosen the name themselves, somehow relishing its significance, and they bore it well, Da'an thought. Maedra had been nothing less than an apparition� though physically the woman was less fearful and intimidating than a Jaridian warrior or some humans Da'an had known, the mere thought of the Tru'del was enough to stir fear.
So much suffering, fear and hatred had passed between the two kinds� it was disconcerting to think of them as Taelons, since Taelons did not kill their own kind as humans did� but deep inside, at the root of their origin, they were Taelon.
Da'an still believed so, even though many from both sides would disagree.
She sighed, pressing her forehead to the cold window as she leaned against it. The planet Mars was now visible from her viewport, but not much else. She wondered how far they were from the Mothership, if Liam and Zo'or were aware of who held her captive� surely Liam would be concerned by her disappearance. Would they believe her dead?
If only she could find a way to send a message to them� but diplomacy was her forte, not computer hacking, and she doubted she could do much with the limited commodities of the small room. Besides, she would surely be caught before she had a chance to do anything.
How many Tru'del were on the ship, she wondered? Only Maedra had come to see her so far, which led Da'an to believe she was the captain, or at least the leader of this particular group� or perhaps of the last one. The Tru'del had produced many offspring over the centuries, but many of them had also been killed during various attacks. How many were left at all?
Da'an pushed herself away from the window, wrapping her arms around herself. The room had grown cold, despite the dull heat from the little amber lantern perched on a small table near the sleeping pallet. Human bodies were much too vulnerable, she decided, much too sensitive to subtle changes in their environment, and easily susceptible to injuries. She could understand why the Tru'del had disliked these particular aspects of their transformation, but surely it was not enough to warrant genocidal hatred of their former race.
Da'an winced. It was strange to hear these thoughts in her own head, alone and unencumbered by the thoughts of the Commonality. It was still distinctly unsettling to be broken from the common thoughts of her people, especially as she remembered the horrible events of the last time such a severance had happened.
Her thoughts were clearer, more coherent than the last time, though. It was still disconcerting to feel so removed, so isolated. Her own thoughts seemed to echo in her head, as though they were words spoken in a hollow cave.
Was this, perhaps, the cause of the Tru'del's instability? The loss of the Commonality? If that was all, then surely an agreement could have been made between the Taelons and the Tru'del so many years ago, that could have prevented all the bloodshed.
Blood� Da'an grimaced, remembering the dark red gash on her forehead. Her cheek was still sore where Maedra had struck her, and felt swollen.
Warily she glanced at the mirror, still hanging from the wall. Surely Maedra or some other Tru'del had placed it there, to ensure that she would look upon her own reflection and realize the extent of her physical transformation.
She had avoided meeting her own face since she had first spotted it. The shock and confusion had been overwhelming. But now, of course, that she understood what had been done to her�
Tentatively, Da'an walked to the mirror. Slowly raising her eyes, she once again found herself staring at� herself. Into human eyes that somehow looked like her own, but were not.
They were brown, she noticed, leaning closer to the glass. Warmer, and different that her usual glowing blue eyes, but somehow familiar, as she looked into them now, as though she could see herself somewhere in them. Disconcerting, and almost surreal.
Her eyes rose to her forehead, where the thin red gash still marred the otherwise pale skin. She lifted a hand and gingerly touched her cheek, where a tiny bruise adorned the diaphanous flesh.
Da'an's hand fluttered up to touch the loose strands of hair resting past her shoulders; they were brown, much like her eyes, slightly curly and silky to the touch. Hair had been dismissed as a possible characteristic of the Taelons' human fa�ade, and she had often wondered how it could feel.
Her hair ended just above her chest, round and shapely now like a typical human female. She backed away from the mirror a bit, contemplating the curves of her new body, easily revealed by the black jumpsuit she still wore. It was strange, but she found the gender to suit her well.
A click and a scraping noise startled Da'an away from the reflection. She turned in the direction of the sound to see the door opening again.
Da'an backed away and tensed, unsure of who or what could be coming in, and what they would want from her, but she relaxed somewhat when she saw Maedra walking in, holding a small plate containing what looked like dried fruit and a metal canister presumably filled with water.
The Tru'del woman smiled slightly and set the plate down on the pallet. "Take some. I do not want you to starve to death."
Da'an wasn't feeling particularly hungry, even though she hadn't yet eaten anything since her transformation, though she did find herself yearning for the water.
Maedra didn't leave immediately, but stood back and a small, sad smile spread across her lips as she looked Da'an up and down. "Our own handiwork is fooling me. I could almost forget you are Taelon underneath that human skin."
Da'an slowly sat on the pallet, though she didn't make a move towards the tray. Instead, she looked up at Maedra. Strange, but as much as her words spoke otherwise, there was not much hatred or disdain in her violet eyes, not as much as one would expect considering her earlier actions. If Da'an didn't know better, she would believe it had been� an act?
"Do you truly despise us as much as you claim?" Da'an asked tentatively.
Maedra had turned and was preparing to leave yet again, but stopped when Da'an spoke up. "I know you are a diplomat. Despite your predicament, you still use words as your sole defense."
"Why do you wish to keep me alive?" Da'an pressed on, ignoring the taunt. "You plan on torturing me for information? Holding me for ransom?"
Maedra smiled, shaking her head. "No, no. Nothing of the sort. Such things would not serve our purpose."
Da'an pressed her lips together, and said, "Nothing good will come of this. Zo'or will eventually locate me and have your ship destroyed." She had no idea if it was true and she didn't particularly enjoy stating it, but she needed some kind of leverage.
Somehow, she had expected Maedra to laugh, but the woman only shook her head again, her face still turned away. "Zo'or will do no such thing. Do you forget how skillfully we took you?"
"In my time on Earth, I have studied human animals. I have observed that often, some creatures have strength in numbers and together are capable of bringing down larger ones. I doubt, however, you have sufficient numbers to take down the entire Taelon race."
Maedra tensed. Her hands curled into fists. "We cannot� turn our back on this mission. We have waited too long, planned too long� and hurt too long."
"And once you have done this to us all� then what?" Da'an rose to her feet, but stayed a small distance away from the other woman. "Nothing will have changed within the Tru'del. You will still be as you are now. A small, lonely race, fueled only by hatred."
Maedra turned then, a sad half-smile on her lips. "Your courage is becoming. You are aware I could kill you if I so wished?"
"I doubt you will," Da'an said softly. She pointedly met Maedra's gaze. "I do not see it in your eyes."
Maedra stiffened. "And I'm to believe a Taelon understands what is in my eyes?"
"Perhaps we are more alike than you would care to admit," Da'an said. "And something in your eyes also tells me you do not have faith in this mission."
Maedra shuddered, turned back to the door and tightly griped the handle. "Stop. Please."
There was the reaction Da'an was hoping for. "Who are you, Maedra?" she asked softly. "One of the original volunteers? Or one of their descendants?"
The fingers on the handle froze, trembling. "I� am one of the originals."
"What was your name? Your Taelon name. Before you changed it. Before you became Tru'del."
Maedra's voice trembled. "I� my name was� Ny'ar."
"Then you remember being Taelon? You remember your own kind? The Commonality�?"
"The Commonality! Yes, I remember the pain, of being taken from� from my species�" Maedra's voice was breaking, and her hands jerked away from the door, flying up to cover her face. "And the experiments. And the endless fighting and�"
She fell into silence, pressing a hand to her mouth as tears trickled down her face. She made no effort to brush them away, only shook her head and locked helpless eyes onto Da'an as she sank down unto the pallet.
"I lost so many friends, Taelon and Tru'del� my family� do you have any idea how much it hurts to lose your family? Everyone you care for?"
Da'an winced. Yes, she most certainly did. "I do understand, Maedra�"
She had lifted a hand and placed it comfortingly on Maedra's shoulder, but the woman jerker her arm away from the contact. "Do not touch me!" A sullen look fell over her face. "Please� you are my enemy, I� I cannot see you otherwise."
For the first time in hours, Da'an felt her fears dissipating, replaced by the sympathy she now had in the face of the other woman's vulnerability. "You are blinded by your hatred," she said. "But deep within I can see you truly do not believe in the actions of your people."
"How could you possibly know such a thing?" Maedra demanded.
"Because� I too have often disagreed with the common thoughts of my people," Da'an said, her voice growing quieter despite herself.
Maedra was shaking her head. "I shouldn't have come here to see you� but no one else in my crew would approach you. They despise you so� I lied about your injury earlier, you know. One of my people who performed your physical alteration struck you while you were unconscious�" She closed her eyes and looked away, her cheeks flushing with either anger or embarrassment, or both.
Maedra sighed. "I have grown so weary of all this, Da'an. I am the only original left� the others are all children, compared to me. Children, who remember only being fueled by their parents' hateful words. They never knew a time before the Tru'del. My body may have been altered for a long life, but I feel� I feel old. Tired. Tired of fighting a battle that will never truly be won by either side�"
"As do I," Da'an said. "You can end this, Maedra. Restore me. Release me. This continued feud will only lead to the destruction of both our species� is that what you desire?"
"Of course not!" Maedra said, seemingly dismayed at the mere thought that she would believe otherwise. "But� I may be the leader of this group, but if I dare speak any opinion contrary to our mission, it will be treated as heresy. I cannot imagine what will be done to me."
"You rather let them condemn us all to this existence?" Da'an said, an unexpected surge of anger heating her face. "You still believe it is justice? Retribution?"
"No, but� I am truly sorry, Da'an," Maedra said, sincerity flooding her words. She rose up from the pallet, her body rigid as she headed for the door again.
"Maedra, please," Da'an pleaded. "I must ask you to reconsider�"
"I am sorry. I must see this through to the end� bitter as it may be."
Maedra's words became muffled as the door closed and locked, echoing ominously in the small room.
It could all have been a nightmare, but of course it wasn't; Da'an was gone. He had checked in at least a dozen times with the Mothership in the past few hours, and always received the same response; no new evidence had been found, the scans had revealed nothing, no traces of their lost Companion, no hidden Tru'del ships, no nothing, and Liam was sure the last Volunteer he had spoken to was itching to tell him to get over it and leave the Mothership alone
He hated nothing more than being helpless. Every time someone he cared about was suffering, and he could do nothing� he hated it.
And as if that wasn't enough, he had failed in his duty as Da'an's protector. It was funny, but he hadn't realized how much the task had meant to him until now. They fought often, and an underlying mistrust was always painfully present, but still�
Liam knew he considered Da'an a friend. Sometimes more than a friend� if anything beyond friendship was even possible with a Taelon. He had no idea. But sometimes, he hoped.
It was too late now, of course. Too late to say anything
The Embassy was unsettlingly quiet now. Liam rose from his desk and strode to stand before Da'an's chair, empty. He had failed as a protector. And he had failed as a friend.
I'm sorry, Da'an. Wherever you are now� I'm sorry.
Da'an's eyes fluttered closed as sleep slowly began to claim her, for the first time since her transformation. She was lying curled on the hard pallet, her arms wrapped tightly around her slender body in that human instinct to assuage the growing chill. She was nearly asleep when the sudden and familiar creaking of the door brought her back to full awareness.
What now? Probably Maedra again. More threats, more futile discussion? Da'an found herself feeling unusually exhausted, and really just wanted to sleep now.
Maedra walked in, looking fidgety and apprehensive. Her green cloak was draped over her arm, and she held a knife similar to the one on her belt in her other hand.
"Come, quickly."
Frowning, Da'an pushed herself to a sitting position. "What are you doing?"
"I cannot waste time with explanations� you must come, quickly. Take this." She handed Da'an the Tru'del dagger, and draped the green cloak over her shoulders.
Da'an opened her mouth to question the woman further, but she was cut off as Maedra pulled her to her feet, scraping open the door and leading her outside after nervously glancing about the hallways.
"Continue down this corridor, then to your right." She held her arm out and pointed directions as she spoke, her voice a nervous whisper. "You will find two small shuttles. Take one. The piloting is similar to Taelon shuttles. You do know how to pilot Taelon shuttles?"
Da'an blinked. "Of-of course, but�"
"You must activate the shields. If you do not, you will be detected and destroyed," Maedra spoke quickly, casting quick glances down the corridor behind her. "You will have a clear path to the Mothership. Do you understand?"
Da'an clutched the cloak around her body, faintly grateful for its warmth. "I understand your instructions, but not your motives. Why have you changed your mind? Why are you helping me escape?"
Maedra sighed, tugging on Da'an's arm to urge her down the corridor even as she spoke. "We both agree, Da'an, that this conflict must end. I am showing you trust that you will find a better solution. But you must go. Now!"
"What of the other Tru'del?"
"GO! Please. If you are caught, we will both suffer the consequences."
Maedra had to be right, and Da'an was hardly willing to argue about it. Her fingers squeezed the hilt of the dagger, cold in her hand, and she breathed, "Thank you, Maedra."
The Tru'del nodded briskly and Da'an watched her disappear in the opposite hallway, before turning around herself and cautiously slipping down the dark corridor.