DATE: 4.7.2407
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Tristen had finished his early morning work-out and had returned to camp. The general was far too busy to train him any further in the combat arts. He had dismissed Tristen from further training at the moment. He had learned enough. So now Tristen was a little bored, since he had no sparring partner.
He found himself an abandoned bench and sat down on it. There were places like this all over the planet. The world Beowulf was nothing more than a desert planet with its unique color, almost rustic, in its dirt hue. It was always hot. Rain was rare. The seasons never changed. And the people were always fighting amongst themselves. The only truly good thing about the planet, his home world, was the fact that it offered great crops.
The soil was rich, though like sand. One could grow great crops in the dirt without risking it becoming bad land, ever. One could use it over and over again. Beowulf was certainly resistant.
But it was a lonely world. People were spread apart far and wide. Places like the bench he was sitting on used to be a person’s land, either lost to them or every member of the family passed on. Now he was enjoying what might possibly be the only shade tree for miles.
“Forrest! What are you doing sitting all alone over there? Shouldn’t you be training?” Captain Hayne calls out.
“Not today. The General has business to conduct with some leaders coming soon. So I’m just resting up.” Tristen tells her. Captain Hayne nods and follows one of the soldiers.
Tristen smiles as he watches her walk off. Then he looks towards the sky. He hadn’t seen women much on Beowulf. They were a dime a dozen since men mostly came to this world. Either a lady was born here or she came here and most of the time, it was the first. No one wanted to live on Beowulf. Even his own mother would not stay on the unkind planet.
“Forrest, today!” Captain Hayne calls out. “Huh?” he responds snapped out of his thoughts.
“The General wants to introduce you to the leaders he has coming by. Get your butt up and come with me.” She orders him. “Right!” he says moving to action.
Captain Hayne leads him through the camp. There was a certain pattern that she was following as he noticed. He figured the leaders didn’t want anyone else to know they were there or they didn’t want spies to figure it out if they were in the camp. It was a wise move…or the general was smart enough to set it up without the leaders consent to do so.
Tristen soon stops in his tracks. His entire body was taken over by a memory. The sound of crunching caused his body to shake at once by involuntary command. His hands trembled and his eyes darted back and forth.
The sound, that sound of crunching dirt underneath feet bothered him so. He knew it all too well. From his boyhood the sound of Beowulf gravel crunched underneath one type of boot had tormented him. He knew that something bad was always coming when he heard that sound.
Captain Hayne noticed that he was no longer following. She turned her body around to see Tristen in a daze, almost frozen in fear. She looks around for the cause but sees nothing to cause it.
Tristen snaps out of the frozen fear. The feeling to flee came over him. He knew he had to get away. Tristen runs away heading to the right of Captain Hayne and she watches him disappear into the crowd of soldiers
Where in the world does he think he is going? She thought to herself. The crunch of a boot on the special Beowulf gravel snapped her attention to look straight ahead. There, a tall man stood, 6’2 maybe 6’3. He had dark green eyes that almost seemed brownish-red in color from age and dust. His hair was greyed with blondish streaks in them. His eyes had bags underneath and his cheeks had turned to jowls. Even so, the man was fit. There wasn’t a drop of fat on him.
Yet, he seemed to strike fear even in her heart. She felt something wasn’t right about the man looking down on her and 5’7 frame.
“Where did the boy run off too?” he asks in a tone that makes her think twice about responding with foolishness. Instinctively she points to her right not knowing why in the world she was doing so.
The big man shoves through her. She catches herself watching the man storm off with a beer in hand.
The general snatches her by the shoulder and turns her around. She is jumbled by all of the commotion that is exerted on her body.
“Captain, where is the maggot? We need to meet with these men now. They don’t have all day to be on this stinking backwash of a planet.” The general says.
“A man went after him.” She says. “And he ran off. I think we need to go stop what’s about to happen. Tristen seemed unsettled.”
“Tristen? The maggot? Unsettled? Oh boy. Get your gun. Let’s go get the boy and make sure he isn’t in trouble.” The general says annoyed that his time table was being jacked up.
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Tristen keeps running, running towards the spotted woods he spotted. The flashes of his memory shocked him every so often as he ran and the gravel crunched underneath. He saw images of a little boy in intense pain, pain he wanted to get away from.
Tristen doesn’t stop. He keeps running. He thrusts himself into moving faster and faster, but he feels he isn’t fast enough. He’s that little boy with the stubby legs trying to get away. It is no use.
And then he falls face first into the ground. He felt it, wrapped around his leg like a snake around a branch; his entire body being pulled to the ground by force.
Tristen looks back to the man with the wooden bottom black boots. He was drinking with one hand and pulling the yellowish energy line with the other. Tristen felt as light as a baby by the pull of the man.
“Time for another lesson in manhood boy!” the man called out taking one last sip of the beverage in his hand. He then tosses it to the side and it shatters against a rock.
“Father no! Not now! Leave me, please!” Tristen says in desperation. Fear rattled through his body at what was about to happen. He was seized in the memories of a young boy who had no helper.
“I’ll teach you to stop all that crying and be a man!” he yells at him. “I’m not crying! Stop!” Tristen says pulling at the wire energy in with his hand.
Tristen finally pulls the knife from his boot. He cuts the yellowish energy away. Relief spilled into his nerves as is back was no longer being pulled against the graveled red ground.
His father only seemed to get angrier at that though. The yellow whip of energy swings at Tristen’s hand. He pulls on it bringing Tristen back to the ground. He starts dragging him again.
Tristen reaches his other hand to the knife. He was far too late. He was looking up at his father now. Tristen instinctively swings his body into his father’s legs knocking him over. He cuts himself away and starts running towards the woods again.
His father gets up quickly and wraps part of the whip tightly around his arm. He uses the hanging energy to throw at Tristen. It grabs him by his waist. The older man was about to yank him back down when Tristen instead ran at him.
His father unravels the whip energy from around Tristen with the flick of his wrist. He smashes his son in the face as he comes to attack. Tristen catches himself from the blow and begins to defend himself against the old man who seemed to be versed in the art of combat. He was in fact better than Tristen it seemed.
He kept harming Tristen, with no mercy. He didn’t hold anything back. He just beat his son to the ground with his brutish power and ways.
“You think you can beat me boy?! Get up! Time for another lesson! Up against the tree.” He yells at Tristen.
Tristen eyes weren’t filled with his maturity anymore. He looked more like a compliant twelve year old. Tristen crawls his way to the tree. He places his hand on it and closes his eyes not feeling anything of the Tristen of the present. Tristen with a nineteen year-old’s mind was gone. He was now just a twelve year old boy who could only obey.
His father, standing there, in a daze, raised his hand with the whip up to strike his son in the back. A bullet nearly shot his entire hand off.
The fury of wickedness drew it’s breath from the man turning around. He saw who it was who fired the gun. They most certainly didn’t miss on accident.
“Leave him alone.” Captain Hayne says holding the gun up. She looks at the old man’s hand and the whip dangling from it. She then brings her eyes up to Tristen up against the tree as if submitting.
“He’s coming with us Mr. Forrest.” The general tells Tristen’s father.
“I’m sorry what? You think I’m going to let a boy fight in this war? I’m making him a man! Ya’ll need to go on’ now! I ain’t got a bone to pick with you. Especially you.” The old man says looking at the general.
“Forrest! Put the whip down. I won’t say it again.” The general warns. He proceeds to reveal his shotgun ready to blow him down.
The old man smiles. He shakes his head at how foolish he was. The general knew what he was getting into. He knew he was getting into a fight with a man classically trained in the art of combat.
All he knew how to do was fight. He had been of major importance in the Beowulf civil war back in their younger days. They even had fought together. Now, he was nothing more than a shell of the man he knew. But the shell was still superior in every way. The general just hoped Tristen would be able to stop his father.
“Preston Forrest… don’t do anything. You’ve done enough.” The general says.
The whip yanks the general into the old man’s fist. The old man then throws the old general against a rock knocking him out.
In the same moment, a bullet is fired. It grazes the hair of Preston Forrest. But it was a mistake. The whip found its way to Captain Hayne, now rolling out of its path.
She jumps towards him. The old man dodges the assumed attack. He grabs her by the back of her uniform to pull her to him. She swings her arm under his hand hitting it upwards with her palm. She then swings the back of her hand into against his face.
Captain Hayne breaks to his right to strike him with her leg. He catches the attack with ease. He twists her foot once, using her own force to throw her in the air.
She spins through the air. Then his elbow slams into her abdomen. The woman flies back from Preston Forrest. She lands in the dirt holding herself in pain.
The gun she attempted to kill him with was now in his possession. As she looked up towards the man who had shown no evidence of being able to fight, she saw what might be her end.
A knife pierces his hand and the old man drops the gun. He spins around to Tristen running at him. Tristen throws a right-cross that was ducked under. The old man was slow though, only Tristen couldn’t tell this.
Captain Hayne, looking at Tristen, saw only the wildness of a young child in his eyes. He had completely lost himself to the sight of this man. There was no way he could win.
Tristen was bashed in the side with the elbow of the old man. The old man proceeds to lift the recovering Tristen by his neck. He tosses his young son about 2 feet forward of himself.
The whip energizes and Tristen looks up in fear of it. “I’m going make a man out of you boy!” he heard his old father say. Tristen is frozen by the words.
Captain Hayne jumps into the old man. They roll a short distance on the ground. She strikes him across his jaw using her elbows to get more damage in. But he was unusually strong. One palm strike upwards knocks her off of him.
Captain Hayne sees the general with his shotgun. She knows he is about to blow the old man down once and for all. She drops in the dirt quickly, hurting her hands on the pointed gravel.
The shotgun laser blast missed its mark. The old man had moved the moment he saw Captain Hayne’s eyes avert.
The whip of yellowish energy snaps at the general’s eyes. The pain takes over as he goes down to the ground holding his eye. Captain Hayne removes her hidden blade at a pace induced by her adrenaline.
She charges at him. She swings at his arm cutting it in her swift attack. He grunts slightly. He tries to get her. She was fast though. She had rolled around him and slashed him in the back.
Then she drops on the ground and goes between his legs cutting him there. But he kept standing despite the cuts inflicted.
As soon as she was back on her feet, he grabs her by her hair. He yanks her hair forward of him throwing her ahead. His whip wraps around her neck.
Tristen still frozen with fear watches the heat temperature rise slightly on the surface of the whip. He knew his father was going to pull at it and cut her head completely off. Tristen gets up as Captain Hayne slips into unconsciousness from the choking nature of the whip’s energy.
“STOP! Teach me! Teach me!” Tristen yells running at his father. Preston flips the whip from around the woman’s neck. Preston smiles at his son’s nature to give up.
Tristen places his hands on the tree then takes deep breaths to calm himself. The maturity in him was finally coming back. He knew he would just have to deal with this. There was no possible way anyone could be able to get his father off of his toes.
The general still holding his eye watches the old man raise the yellow whip of energy up. Captain Hayne fading to black watches the whip land into Tristen’s back, tearing his uniform, before she slipped away into the deep waters of unconsciousness. The general, couldn’t watch, he shut his only eye and turned away from the screams of Tristen Forrest.
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The General finally recovered from the strike. He hadn’t lost his vision completely but it was damaged from what he could tell. Nothing looked the same.
He looks towards Captain Hayne getting up. She dusts the red off of herself wondering if she saw what she really saw. Her eyes fell on Tristen against a tree with a back of red and no shirt.
She knew then she had seen with eyes of truth. The general looks at her face filled with more shock than his own. Perhaps she wasn’t used to the level of brutality he figured.
“Let’s help him back to camp.” The general says snapping her out the shock.
He wraps one arm under Tristen and lifts him up. She gets under one of his arms on the other side. The general looks into the young man’s face, and there was nothing there.
Tristen’s entire persona seemed defeated. His head simply hung, as if he were dead, yet his legs moved with theirs so they wouldn’t have so much weight to carry.
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They laid Tristen in a tent on his belly. The general just had one thing on his mind though. “FORREST! Maggot, why didn’t you fight back! You could have won boy! I taught you well!” the general barks. Tristen looks back at the general with an annoyed expression.
“Get out general!” Captain Hayne tells him. “What?” the general asks surprised by the defiance. “I SAID GET OU! Go handle your business.” She tells him in anger.
The general huffs as he walks out. Captain Hayne falls on her knees near Tristen lying on the mat floor that still had protruding rocks sticking into it. It offered no real comfort, you just had to be used to it.
“Who was that man?” Captain Hayne asked softly as she looked at his wounds. Some were cauterized, others were bleeding.
“My father, Preston Forrest.” Tristen says more of himself than he was before.
“That’s no father Tristen. A father shouldn’t treat you like.” She says running down his back with her eyes.
“Well, he is my father. We can’t really choose them you know.” He says with a slight joking tone hinted in in his voice.
He knew it wasn’t a very good one. He just wanted to get her mind off what she saw and get his own off what he felt deep inside.
“A lot of these are older wounds. Tristen?” she says.
“I’d rather not talk about it.” He says puttinh his hands under his chin to get some kind of comfort for his head.772Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHArWMBVueq
A tear drops from the Captain’s eyes onto his wounded flesh. “YIKES! What was that? Salt?!” he asks almost turning around. He doesn’t however, due to the pain it would cause.
“I’m going to have to put something one this.” She says stopping another tear. “Why didn’t fight back?”
“Why? Don’t you think it’s obvious? Didn’t you see what happened to me? I’m conditioned Captain Hayne! I’m conditioned to think that I can never win. All I saw was myself as a twelve year old again, trying to fight someone bigger, stronger, and faster than me. I tried to fight it but I was just pulled into it. I couldn’t win. I just can’t…” Tristen says with a defeated tone.
Another tear falls on his wounds. He yelps again in response. “Seriously? What is that?” he asks in confusion.
“I need to find the doctor. Where is he?” she ask backing away from him. “He died in the last battle. A mine got him.” Tristen says, “The nurse is still alive… I think. He should be in tent C.” “Okay.” She says.
She gets up and wipes her eyes. She then leaves the tent. Tristen sighs to himself and the memories just start to pour in…
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BACK STORY OF TRISTEN FORREST772Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡZJv93mldpz
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A young woman, barely out in her twenties holds a small baby in her arms. She was graceful, and beautiful.
She had gorgeous striking brown hair. Her brown eyes spoke the poetry of grace in their movement. Her perfectly pale skin struck against the red world, taking away from its omnipotent beauty.
Her red and brownish garments wrapped around her petite frame beautifully. She seemed like one of the legendary Red. (A red is a type of desert female exaggerated in their beauty by man)
Preston, then about 35 looked in awe of the beauty coming his way. Her eyes bespoke sorrow though. He could see it.
Through all her grace, all her beauty, all that she had been taught in how to be proper, there was only pain. He didn’t know what was going on.
“My love…” she said in the Turkish language softly. “Esther!” he says running to her.
He takes the woman into his arms passionately. She pulls away from him with much pain. He looks at her with confusion.
“Where have you been?” he asked looking at the child in her arms. He had the same green eyes as he did. He had the same blonde hair as he did… almost white in color.
“Isn’t he beautiful?” she asks him with a smile. “This is our son?” he asks. “Yes.” She says distantly.
“You left to go have our child?” he asks her. “I left because this isn’t my life Preston. I’m not desert woman. I’m a woman of grace and status.” She says pained.
“Leave them all behind. Stay with me and our child.” He says. “I can’t…” she whispers through her tears. “What do you mean can’t? Leave your family behind. Come live with me. We can get married… make this proper.” He throws at her as he takes her hands in his own. “I cannot.” She says.
Preston releases her hands. Fury rose in him from her response. “I will die here.” She whispered to him in her native tongue.
Though he knew that she would, it still hurt him. It hurt that she wouldn’t even give it a try, to see if life would be kind to her on Beowulf.
“You have to take care of him.” She tells Preston in her native tongue still. “No.” Preston says. “He is your son Preston Forrest. If you don’t, my family will kill him. He was born outside of…he is a… He needs you.” She says in a sigh of pain.
“Stay with me.” He says. Her eyes well with tears as she puts her child in his arms. It hurt more to leave the child of her womb behind than it did to leave behind the man she had fallen in love with just a year ago.
She knew that she should have avoided him. But coming on the world Beowulf opened up her eyes. She saw what the war had done and the man who helped everyone come out of it. He was strong, brave, caring… Something developed in her… and the moment he saw her, he knew he wanted her. But time was not kind… tearing them away from each other.
But she had her unborn child at first. And now he, born, full, beautiful, was being ripped away from her. She could not stand it. So, she knew she had to just go, while he could.
“Take care of my son.” She says stroking his precious head. Preston completely snapped inside.
How could you be so weak?! He yelled within himself. His broken heart turned to malice as he watched beauty embodied walk away. How could you be so weak! He screamed in himself.
The woman he loved was gone. Too, the love he felt for her. It was thereby replaced by madness as he carried his baby into his dusty wooden home.
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TRISTEN’S MEMORY
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Tristen had just turned twelve and oldest brother had just turned 18. Under him was the 17 year old and under him the sixteen year-old. There were a total of four sons to Preston, each whom watched their father change to a tyrant… all except Tristen. Tristen only saw the tyrant.
The oldest of the boys loved Tristen deeply. He protected Tristen, cared for him, taught him. There was no one else in the galaxy that had his affection the way Tristen did.
That morning was different from anything that Tristen had experienced before. He usually watched his brother pack up supplies to ride into town before the heat came. This time, he wasn’t carrying anything on him but a knife a single Virtual Credit Unit with more money than he had ever seen.
He was taken by his brother out on the front porch while their father was still asleep.
The night earlier, he heard his oldest brother being beaten in the back by the whip that inflicted fear in him. His father nearly grabbed Tristen this time and was about to take him outside to the barbed wire fence. But his oldest brother intervened for his sake. He took what was meant for what his father called “a crying boy of a man”.
He knew his father detested the natural soft qualities in him. Tristen was unlike his hard, tough, manly brothers. He was kinder, more caring, and easier to hurt in his emotions. His father hated his soft qualities and he didn’t know why.
“Hey little brother.” The oldest said to him. Tristen smiles and his pretty green eyes lit up. He almost frowned, seeing the stress and the happiness gone out of his brother’s eyes. But the oldest distracted him quickly on seeing his eyes change.
“I’m going to tell you a story.” He told him. “What story?” he asked in his youthful eagerness.
“About our father. Once… before you were born… he was a different man. He’s changed a number times. Once after my mother died having the one before you. Then again when he entered into the civil war for a whole two years. He came back a completely different man.
But then one day, when I was eleven or twelve like you, he met a lady. She was ladies lady. She had grown up all proper and such. Papa called her Grace for her grand beauty and properness.
She spoke different, walked different, and lived different. And papa, he fell in love with the lady and she him.
I watched my papa change again. He was… happy… he seemed normal. He was a kind man before but now, he was… … …he was… (smiles) He was happy.
That woman that made our papa so happy, that was your momma. I had never seen a person like before. She made all of us feel different, being that we was without a lady of the house. We thought we might get a new momma.
But… she couldn’t be. It was too dangerous for her to be our momma. She weren’t like you and I Tristen. We grew up in this old harsh place.
We know this red dust. We know the crackling gravel. We’re used to this foul smell that resembles old sulfur. We know why the sky changes from blue to red. We can take the 113 degree heat no problem. But your momma couldn’t do all of that.
So she brought you to papa, thinking you’d make him happy the way you made her happy. She loved you Tristen, cried for you. You know why she named you Tristen?” the oldest boy said smiling at his youngest brother.
Tristen pondered over his name. He had no idea why in the world his mother named him so. The oldest stroked the hair of Tristen’s head looking towards the reddening sky.
“Tristen means… outcry. She cries for you little brother. She wants you back. But she cannot get you. So she cries for you.” The oldest says looking into the green eyes of the boy.
The oldest hands small piece of paper to Tristen. He takes if from him and wraps it up. He then puts it in Tristen’s pocket.
“Don’t ever let papa see it. He’ll go in a rage and tear up your legacy, you hear me? Hmmm?” he says roughing up Tristen’s hair. Tristen smiles and nods.
“Alright. You look at that later. Tristen… I got to go okay?” he says. “When will you be back?” Tristen asks with inquisitive eyes.
The oldest boy nearly cries but holds his tears back to spare his brother the image. He gets up to his full height. “I ain’t coming back Tristen. You got to be strong. He’s gonna come for you now. He blames you for his misery. You gotta be strong. You promise me you be strong for all of us boys. They gonna get out as soon as they can. They gonna leave behind. You gonna be by yourself. But you can do it. You the strongest of us Tristen. You remember that. You the strongest.” The oldest says backing away.
He looks up to doorway seeing his father. The whip was in his hand. The oldest starts to run but the whip wraps around his neck. The old man yanks him to the ground like he was nothing but a sheet of cardboard to be thrown around.
“You sniveling boy! You think you can get away from me?!” he yells at the oldest as he starts pulling him back. Tristen looks at his brother then to his father. He knew he had to do something.
Tristen runs at his father. He jumps on his leg and bites down. Preston is thrown into a rage and backhands Tristen off. This however gives the oldest time to get away. He cuts himself loose and jumps on one of the horses, galloping off.
Preston spins around to Tristen crying his green eyes out. The tears burned to steam as they hit the burned red gravel.
Preston was disgusted. He grabs Tristen and drags him off to the barbed wire fence.
“I’ll make a man out of you boy! You’re gonna stop all that crying. Twelve years of that!” he said making Tristen hold the barbed wire.
Tristen looks back in fear. He sees his older brothers looking out the window. Not one of them were coming to his aid. He turns his head back forward and closes his eyes. The whip finally makes contact to his back.
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PRESENT
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Tristen cries out digging his nails into the mat. Captain Hayne jumps into the tent quickly with her gun pointed. She sees that no one is in the tent though. She looks to Tristen grunting, digging his nails deeper and deeper into the mat.
Captain Hayne wakes him. Tristen comes out of the shock breathing rapidly with fear in his green eyes.
“Forrest? Forrest? What happened?” she asks him. “Nothing.” Tristen said calming down.
“I must have dozed off. Did you find the nurse?” Tristen asks turning his head back forward, haunted by the flashes of that whip.
“Yes. You should have said which tent in the C section he was.” Captain Hayne says slightly annoyed at him. She was still worried about what she had seen though.
“Sorry. Tent C-97. Excuse me for forgetting to mention that.” He says. “It was my fault for not asking. I should have thought about it.” She tells him in response.
“This is going to hurt. It will regenerate your skin. It’s done more effectively in hospitals. The portable ones leave the skin vulnerable to tear. So try not to exercise your back to much.” The nurse says taking out a device
He waves it over his back and Tristen claws the mat once again. He clenches his teeth holding in the pain… something once foreign to him as his skin heals over. The nurse soon finishes and leaves quickly to attend to others with more serious cases.
“Forrest… What were you dreaming about?” Captain Hayne asks of him. “Nothing.” He responds with coldness.
Tristen gets off of his belly and stands up. His eyes spoke horror through his seemingly cold exterior at the moment.
“Tristen.” She whispers. “I’m sorry Captain Hayne, but you should leave this matter be. You should be happy you didn’t have to grow up the way I did. You’re right, no one should have suffer that for six years. I don’t want to talk about it, ever. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go help the nurse.” Tristen says trying to make his way around her.
“Forrest.” She says more commanding, “You’re hurt. Sit down.”
“No. I need to help. If anything, I’d like to make other people happy or at least bring them some comfort. So, I’m going to help, hurt or not.” Tristen says going around her.
The general passes Tristen walking away. He therefore enters the tent with a question in his facial expression.
“What is he doing?” the general asks, his vision still blurred. “He went off to help.” She says softly.
“Captain Hayne, the leaders want to talk to him. They are intent to see what I’ve invested my time into.” The general says. “Tell them he can’t be bothered at the moment. He’s under extreme emotional duress” she says less like a woman and more like a commander.
“It sounds like something that should be said.” The general sighs. “General, how did his father find him?” she asks. “The Forrest home isn’t far from here.” He responds walking out of the tent.772Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ7xNnKHDbza
