9. Thillak

As I drew Isla closer to me, her familiar scent — a mix of floral notes and the earthy aroma of our prison surroundings — enveloped me. "Stay here," I whispered urgently, motioning to a shadowy recess in the corridor.

Her fingers brushed against my hand, the gentle touch sending shivers up my spine despite the gravity of our situation. "Stay hidden, Isla. I'll be back for you."

She nodded, her eyes shining with trust.

That look of trust, the weight of it, made me more determined than ever to see this escape plan through.

Tucking her safely into the nook, I took a deep breath, preparing myself for what was to come.

Moving stealthily down the hallway, the soles of my boots making a soft thudding noise on the floor, I took stock of the dim surroundings.

The distant sound of alarms, a cacophony of shrills and bells, grew fainter as I moved farther from our hiding spot.

Spotting a wrench lying on a workstation, I grabbed it, the handle instantly warming under my grip.

As I continued on, I could hear the approaching footsteps of two guards, their laughter echoing through the narrow passageway.

Their amusement was about to be cut short.

Concealing myself around a bend, I waited.

The sensation of adrenaline pumping through my veins was familiar, a throwback to our numerous encounters in previous lifetimes.

From the corner of my eye, I could see their darkened silhouettes, the blue light from their head torches casting eerie glows on the walls.

I tightened my grip on the wrench.

As they came into view, I lunged, the weight of the wrench connecting with the first guard's temple.

A sickening thud echoed through the corridor as he crumpled to the ground.

The second guard, taken by surprise, reached for his weapon, but he was too slow.

With a swift motion, I brought the wrench down on him as well, rendering him unconscious.

My ears rang with the aftermath, and my heart pounded loudly, the rhythmic beat syncing with the distant alarms.

Glancing down, I could see the keys attached to one of the guard's belts.

This part of the prison was old — very old — and many of the systems hadn't been updated.

Grabbing the keys, I continued down the corridor.

There was a specific cell I needed to unlock, a critical part of our escape plan.

As I approached the door, its significance was clear.

Marked with symbols that only few would recognize, I knew that behind it lay our best chance of leaving this place for good.

Inserting the key, the door hissed and retracted, but I couldn't wait to see Ohara emerge.

I would not reveal myself to him until later.

He had other things to deal with first.

Running back the way I had come, the sound of my boots reverberated off the walls.

When I reached the recess, Isla emerged, her face pale but determined. "Is it time?" she asked, her voice laced with both hope and fear. "Did it work? Can we leave now?"

I nodded, taking her hand in mine.

It was warm and soft, a comforting contrast to the cool, rigid environment surrounding us. "We're getting out of here."

* * *

I ledIsla swiftly through the dimly lit corridors, her hand in mine, towards the most unpredictable and chaotic section of the prison: the docks.

Here, ships from all parts of the quadrant would dock, their colorful exteriors gleaming dimly in the station's artificial light.

The low hum of engines played as a backdrop to our hurried pace.

My nose twitched slightly at the unique aroma of Graxian fuel, a smell that reminded me of sour fruit mixed with an odd undertone.

It was a odor one could never forget.

Through the grates below our feet, I could feel the subtle vibration of numerous spacecraft taking off and landing, each vibrating frequency unique to the ship's engine and size.

The docks always felt alive with activity.

Soon, a particular ship caught my eye.

Sleek and agile-looking, it was an older model, but one I was familiar with from our previous exploits.

It was perfect for our needs.

"Inside," I instructed Isla softly, guiding her into the vessel's hidden entrance.

The ship's interior was cold, the walls chilly to the touch, with the occasional faint aura of lubricant and old leather filling my senses.

I took a moment to savor the familiar feel of a ship beneath my feet.

However, instead of heading towards the cockpit, as Isla might have expected, I pulled her deeper into the shadows of the vessel.

She looked at me, her eyes filled with questions. "Why aren't we taking off?" she whispered, the soft fabric of her cloak brushing against my arm, making the tiny hairs on my skin stand up.

"Patience," I murmured back, drawing her close. Her warmth felt comforting against the backdrop of our chilly surroundings. "We can't just fly out of here. I'm dead, remember."

Peeking through the narrow windows, I watched as different species moved about, checking cargo and communicating in a myriad of languages.

Their voices formed a low, constant buzz, punctuated by the occasional shout or laugh.

Somewhere nearby, I could hear the sizzle and aroma of street food being cooked, making my stomach growl in response.

Soon, the ship's ramp began to rise, sealing us inside.

Heavy footsteps echoed through the vessel, and I pressed Isla closer to the shadows, my fingers brushing the delicate curve of her ear, feeling its softness. "Stay quiet," I breathed into her ear.

Minutes felt like hours.

I could hear the pilot performing his checks, the beeps and clicks of machinery and controls being tested.

Then, as suddenly as the noises began, they ceased.

The ship roared to life, the unique feeling of inertia pushing us back slightly.

The powerful engines vibrated through the floors, resonating with my heartbeat.

We were moving.

Isla clung to me, her face buried in my chest.

I could feel the warmth of her breath through my shirt, and her hair tickled my chin.

The sensation of take-off was exhilarating.

The gentle hum of the ship's engine resonated with the tension in the air.

As the ship gained altitude, I could feel the familiar, albeit muffled, sensation of airlessness pressing against the exterior.

It was a welcome feeling, something that reminded me of countless adventures among the stars.

However, this time, we were stowaways.

Isla's grip on my hand tightened as the muted thrum of voices echoed from the ship's cockpit.

Every muted footstep felt like a countdown.

The unique combination of grease and cologne took me by surprise.

There was something familiar about it, but I couldn't put my finger on it.

In the cockpit, I heard muffled banter, but I could pick out words here and there.

Words that spoke of their eagerness to be away from Ikmal, the prison planet.

Once the ship settled into the smooth void of space, the silence deepened, punctuated by the occasional beep or murmur from the ship's communication systems.

It was time.

Gently nudging Isla to stay hidden, I stepped into the dimly lit corridor.

I picked up a wrench and approached the hatchdoor.

I eased it under its edge and, using all my weight and strength, forced it open.

Just an inch.

Just enough to set off a warning light on the cockpit's panel.

I eased back into the darkness and waited.

A figure descended down the short flight of stairs, before it paused and picked up a heavy object.

No doubt Ohara's senses were heightened, ready to lash out at any would-be attacker.

I needed to proceed carefully.

Moving swiftly, I made my way to intercept the intruder, leaving Isla safely hidden.

As I turned a corner, a tall, muscular figure appeared, his hand gripping a sizeable wrench, the tool's surface glinting in the low light.

His intent was clear.

But he froze, his dark eyes widening in shock as they met mine.

Lowering my hood slowly, I allowed my face to be fully revealed in the dim lighting.

"Wait," I said.

His grip on the wrench slackened, and it clattered to the floor, the sound echoing like a gunshot in the silence.

"I didn't mean to startle you,' I said, "but I couldn't think of another way to get you down here without creeping up on you and one of us accidentally causing harm to the other."

He looked at me uncertainly, momentarily not recognizing me.

After all, it had been a while since we'd last met.

He doubletook.

No doubt I was not who he was expecting.

"I thought you were dead?" Ohara said.

"Believe me, they tried."

"But how? Why? I thought Druin killed you?"

"He thought he killed me. I knew he wanted my place. Just as I knew he wanted revenge on you. It's so much easier to manipulate people when you know what they want."

I noticed his own fated mate — Lily — standing to one side.

I knew the power of true love and knew Ohara would stop at nothing to be with her.

I reached out and took her by the hand, kissing it.

"This is how they greet each other in some places on Earth, is it not?"

"It's a little old-fashioned…" Lily said. "But yes. You're right."

"I had a good teacher. You're lovelier than I ever imagined. I can undersand why this one fell head over heels for you."

Ohara shook his head in wonder. "Why would you let Druin take your place?"

"How easy do you think it would be for you to give up that position when you wanted to disappear?"

"Why Druin? Didn't you know what he would do?"

"Of course I did. That was why I allowed him to take over. My cells can work independantly and there was no way they would follow someone like him. His reign would not — and will not — last long. He will be replaced in short order."

"By who?"

I arched an eyebrow at him. "I think you know who."

It didn't take him long to guess. "Cayggod?"

"He knows my organization better than anyone. Better even than me most of the time. He will make an excellent head and he will reign for a long time… if he wants to."

Then another realization came to him. "You opened my cell!"

"I merely unlocked it. You were the one who walked through it."

"As you knew I would."

I nodded. "As I knew you would."

"And you took out the guards too."

I shrugged my shoulders. "That's his own fault. He was being arrogant and pushy. I hate people without the good manners the Creator gifted them, don't you?"

I looked at Lily, whose attention was taken with something at the back of the bay area.

It was Isla.

She peeked out her head at us.

"It's all right," I said. "These are my friends. You can trust them. You can come out."

She was slow to do so, but finally did.

I took her by the hand.

"Lily, I believe you've met before," I said.

Without even seeing the other human's face, Lily nodded. "Very well. How did you two come to meet?"

I kissed Isla's hand. "I was inspired by how Ohara fell for you. I took a long good look at my life and realized I had all the things money could buy… and none of the things money couldn't buy. As for the details… well, I guess I'll tell you all about that on the way to the new home you're going to take us to."

It was the truth… at least, partly.

They didn't need to know about our true complex past nor what we intended on doing next.

Knowing the truth could only put them in danger.

Lily smiled, thinking she might know what he was talking about.

"We've escaped Ikmal," Thillak said. "Drop us off on any planet we pass on the way to wherever it is you're going. I have friends everywhere. We'll be all right. Do you think you could do that for an old friend?"

"Of course," Ohara said. "Come sit in the cockpit. Then you can tell us all about your story."

The four of us made our way to the cockpit, the ship's systems humming a gentle lullaby.

Outside, the stars shimmered like countless diamonds, beckoning us toward a future filled with endless possibilities.