I am pleased to announce a long-awaited re-write of a story written long ago: Captured. Enjoy.

Chapter 1: Captured

Dark, dim walls surrounded me; cries of men and aliens run out along the metal hallways. Not a human in sight—I never thought I'd miss my own kind, given the chance to leave it all behind. Each footstep beyond my doorway echoed like thunder, radiating through my skull. Through the shouting and yelling, I felt as if deafening silence consumed me.

I was reminded of my last battle on Earth. My opponent's eyes burned red, glowing brightly beyond the dust plumes and roaring windstorm. It was a look I would never—could never—forget. I knew it would stick by me for the rest of my days, a constant reminder of what I'd left behind. I'd remember his words: We all spend life trying to live, but not one shall ever make it out alive.

I kept my eyes low, no matter who approached. With each swinging step, yet another armored guard came into view. Trained to every extent, they knew the unexpected was just around the corner. Their hardened walls would never break, not even amidst a friendly conversation amongst comrades in the breakroom. At any moment, a prisoner could escape or a fight could break out, and they were prepared for the worst of them—me.

I was never an avoided topic. In fact, many of them were briefed on my arrival well before the ship had docked inside the prison. They concealed my wrist in a stasis shield, ensuring their safety and survival, but not mine. They wanted no contradictions, nothing left to chance. They ensured I never had the option to fight back—they wanted to break me. I wouldn't shed a tear; I wouldn't show weakness. I wouldn't break under the pressure they so benevolently pressed to my back. The hell they wished to turn my life into wouldn't affect me—I could never let it.

If I was in for life, I would need to take solace in the mere fact that I was still allowed to remain living for the remainder.

Quiet moans escaped the cells as we passed. Muffled insults were thrown, yet swiftly ignored by the guards as they carried me away. I closed my eyes and tried to forget. I tried to wash away the look on Gwen's face when she knew it was all over. I tried to ignore the promises made to Kevin before I was whisked away to a world unknown. I tried to forget the look in their eyes when they knew there was nothing left—there was nothing anyone could possibly do to fix the mess I'd created.

Though no matter how hard I tried, I would never simply forget—it would hurt all the more to know I was leaving them behind to fend for themselves in a war no one could win.

I picked my eyes off of the floor, investigating one of the more interesting cells. A vampiric creature snarled and snapped, egging me on in his native tongue. A smile curled on his lips as he wished for nothing more than a fight; if only to challenge the man with the Omnitrix.

The guards made idle conversation amongst themselves as we walked to my new home—cell 49275 in block R39. They laughed and joked at my expense, clamping their metal gloves tighter around my limbs.

"We flew you thousands of lightyears to get here…," one grumbled, pulling my head up by the roots of my hair. He wanted to capture the look in my eyes, spark a bit of controversy within my veins. "…And you have yet to resist, Tennyson…"

I pulled away from his grasp, staring at the iron grate flooring. They pressed on, not stopping for a moment to rest.

"I don't blame you," he spat, firmly grasping my arm. "You've dug your grave deep, boy… There's only wasted energy in resisting…"

They tossed me in a cell, leaving me to the absolute silence I would face for years to come. Not a word was said as they turned to leave; nothing but a smug grin on the Captain's face as the barrier appeared, separating me from the rest of the world. I would forever call the cell my home, and no matter the challenges I faced, I would never see my friends or family again.

Breakfast came like clockwork each morning. Like a bell rung in the early morning hours, a panel would pull back from the ceiling and a tube would drop a glow stick to the ground. I would shift to my side, watching as the stick rolled into the great expanse beneath my cot. There it would collect dust until my stomach decided such alien food would satiate my lack of hunger.

It was the same meal three times a day—the same cylindrical, glowing stick of nutrients. There must've been at least ten, now, beneath the cot—a growing collection as a testament to my depression. I was content with the light in the night the collection had created, but knew I would soon need to eat if I planned on serving any part of my sentence.

Another morning came around as breakfast was dropped from the ceiling. Waiting patiently below the panel, I caught the stick as it fell into my lap. I stared for a moment, analyzing its texture from afar. It wasn't remotely appetizing, not even in the slightest. It stuck to my teeth like hard taffy, refusing to come free. The energy spent eating it would be more extensive than the calories it provided. I threw the half-eaten stick into my growing collection, wondering if the prison food would kill me before the silence had.

I was confined to my cell, rudely stripped of any recreational time. The maximum security they imposed was nothing like that of Earth's. Much more rigorous policies were in place, as species and races of all kinds inhabited the intergalactic jail. They could never be too careful, especially when an alien no larger than a toothpick could, very likely, strip a man of his skin without waving a hand. The variables that a co-ed prison imposed were too much of a risk for the guards to take.

Scheduled, rotating rec times were implemented. Prisoners from very specific parts of the universe were gathered together, while guards of equal strengths were put on watch for the shift. One-by-one, each cell block was released for their moments of freedom, while I simply watched behind the safety of my barrier. Days passed in the same fashion; I craved the extra few steps, as pacing would never allow me a full stretch of my limbs.

But the day came where I was allowed a moment outside of my cell. They approached the barrier—heavily armed and prepared for a beating—and announced the reason for their visit. "You get one chance, Tennyson. Do not make a fool of the warden."

The barrier faded into the floor as I sat motionless, unwilling to become the fool of the joke they were clearly playing on me. "Funny, boys. I'm enjoying my soap operas—can you come back and bother me later?" I returned my gaze to the metal wall, laughing at imaginary images in distaste.

Strong hands clasped onto my arms, pulling me recklessly from the floor. I had no say in whether I was allowed to stay in my cell—at least the seriousness of their offer came to light. I was truly allowed a moment free of my cell. Surely they weren't giving the prisoner with the tightest chains a bit of leeway on his leash!

Though I was never far from the watchful eyes of the guards assigned to watch me, I could roam the prison yard as far as the walls would allow. And yet, as my leash grew just a bit longer, I still chose to sit alone at a table in the middle of the yard. It was a strange feeling—though I was allowed to roam, I chose to stay put. I would never understand the thought that passed me by, but I had no choice but to follow its instructions.

Many interested aliens passed by with angry stares, but the guards quickly shooed them away. No fights would be had—not on the day that Ben Tennyson was allowed a moment of time outside of his cell. They would ensure my survival, but for how long was the only question. I knew it was only a matter of time before I was no longer a priority. A wandering alien would pick me off, just like they would any other threat to their status in the prison.

I grumbled quietly to myself, imagining futile scenarios of fighting back several of the antagonistic monsters that watched me. Easy. I could do it, I mused. The Omnitrix would never let me fail… But the notion vanished just as soon as it appeared. I never stood a chance against them—not in my current condition.

I pressed my forehead to the cool metal table, tuning out the world around me. None of the other inmates mattered to my situation—I was suffering in my turmoil alone. I would sit at the table until carried away to my cell, where sorrow would overwhelm me once more. Surely they wouldn't win the small victory of depression. I was allowed a moment to cry in silence; after all, allowing my capture was my decision in the end.

A hand tugged at my hair, gently combing through it. Startled, I pulled away, my eyes glued to the potential threat. An alien girl opposed me at the table, her hand caught in the air. She was frightened, unsure of how to react as I pulled away from her.

"You are… him, yes?" she breathed, her eyes wide as they watched me.

"You. Who are you?" I questioned, sitting motionless against the bench.

She frowned, resting her hand against the table. "I am… friend? I am the friend. You… are Tennyson, yes?"

I responded dryly, my eyes never moved from her own, "I guess. What do you want?"

Once again she reached out for me, motioning for my head to return to the table. "You have such the strange language," she concluded. "Difficulty of speaking it, you understand. Please, I would like to show you some comfort."

I shook my head, leaning away from her hand. "If you know who I am, you should know better than to be around me. You could get yourself killed."

"Not concerned with death," she disagreed, rising from her seat on the bench. "Should not make conversation, you are strange species. Please, now… Move your head…"

I gripped her wrist, my eyes burning red. "There are thousands in this place that would love to have my head on a platter. If you're going to make nice with me, you'll join their list. You wanna die? Cause that's how you get yourself killed."

"I know of you, human," the girl laughed. "You are the hero, not the prisoner. If wanting comfort does not make for happiness, I will leave."

I pressed her hand to the table, retreating to the safety of my lap. "Why the hell would you want to show me any sort of compassion?" I grumbled, examining her.

She was an alien I never had the pleasure of encountering. She appeared so human, yet she was far from it. Her blue skin spoke of the color of the sun that warmed her planet's surface. The yellow eyes that gazed curiously back at me created their own light, glowing dimly under the fluorescent bulbs above us. Her hair held no pigment, as if the years had dusted it silver; yet she couldn't have been older than myself. Her ears were spiked, much like the elven creatures that flooded fantasy novels on Earth. She spoke quietly, yet acted freely, unafraid of the consequences her actions may create.

"Like I said, you should probably go. I'm not the kind of friend you want to make in this place, even if only for your own safety…"

She chewed on her lip, wide eyes watching my every move. "But I need the hero you can be. Please, do not make the leave, yes? I ask for company; you ask for comfort." She rose from the bench, wandering around the table. She made her place in the empty space beside me, settling in. "You have been through much; a friend you need is the least I can do."

With a force comparable only to a car crash, she slammed my head against the table. The guards reacted, unsettled by the sudden disturbance of their prisoner. She waved them off, assuring them of my safety. "You will, Ben. I am not a bad threat. Happiness," she breathed, running her fingers through my hair. "You need it. Must be happy, Tennyson… Must be…"