Most people will ask me why I tell the story of one soldier, a man, a fighter for the freedom of all mankind. He was a soldier whose name is lost in the pages of history, a man who never wanted to be a hero. He never wanted to be a fighter. But then the visitors came to our planet and took the human race as slave. Trained some to entertain the visitors as the emperors of old Rome were entertained. Some women such as my self were used as Household slaves. Men like Andrew were sent to the arenas of the empire to fight or in his case to die for the crime of being human.

Andrew had a kind heart when I first knew him. He was not the best looking man. When the visitors first came he was losing his hair and he was overweight. Andrew told me that we could learn from them. He said that we could get along. We could live in peace. He was wrong. The visitors just wanted to conquer, to destroy, to kill.

I was lucky. I was taken by a female who treated me as one of her own children. Andrew was selected for the games. When he first got to the arena built on Earth Andrew was afraid. He was not given a weapon, just released out into the arena. Andrew saw his opponent grasping a broad sword of alien manufacture but a sword is a sword. On the ground in front of the visitor he was to fight lay a katana. The rules were simple. Get to the sword and kill the opponent without being killed himself. Easier said than done.

Andrew fought his way to the sword and with luck and a little bit of skill he managed to find his opening. He killed his first living creature. The crowed cheered and applauded. When the guards came out Andrew still held the katana in his hands. One of them told him to drop his sword. Andrew knew that was not the time to fight. The time would come, but not then. Andrew went back to his cell.

He began to exercise. He was given barely enough food to survive but that would help him reach his goal. He would have to be the best fighter to live through this. And fight he did from the arenas on Earth to the arenas on the other conquered colonies. I saw him again on the colony on Proxima Centari. At first I thought that he was someone else. Andrew was much thinner. And built like a tank.

I asked my mistress to talk to him for me. To find out if it was truly him. She agreed. It would cost her money but she felt that what her people were doing was wrong. It must stop. It would stop. To hold any creature as a slave was wrong. As humans we learned that hundreds of years ago. It is unfortunate that others in the universe had not yet learned this. I heard from my Mistress in the morning that the gladiator I saw was Andrew. She told me that she might be able to free Andrew, maybe make him a house guard to get him away from the arenas.

When she talked to Andrew's master and trainer, I was allowed to talk to him. I remember walking down the dank and dreary halls. I saw the rows of cells that men and aliens of all types were kept in. I remember seeing Andrew. He sat cross-legged in meditation with his back towards the cell door. Through the iron-gate I could see scars on his back, some from combat others from the beatings he had received for not performing at his best. Knowing that the gladiators were conditioned not to respond to their previous names, I simply called him gladiator.

When he turned I saw the face I had loved so long ago. The face had changed though. It was the same features, but the spark of hope and fun that used to fill up that face was no longer there. The essence of the man I knew was gone. The hope and the laugh were gone. I saw in his eyes the one thing that he could keep hate. I saw that the visitors had put him in a state of mind he could never come back from.

On our way home, my Mistress told me that she was unable to purchase Andrew. He was too valuable to his master. He would not give up his best fighter.

I did know that Andrew would be able to do the thing that others had tried and failed at. He would be able to fight for freedom for all humans and aliens alike. I knew this because I later saw him fight in the arena.

I remember the fight well. In the arena were five humans armed with swords. Andrew walked in with his katana. Before the coming of the aliens Andrew loved the Japanese samurai. Andrew defeated his enemy easily. It was a bloody contest and the aliens and humans in the audience were cheering with each bloody kill he made. At the end he alone stood. The late afternoon sun shone in on the arena lighting the area in a reddish glow. Andrew stood in the middle of the arena sword held high in his blood soaked hand. The crowed stood cheering.

I saw his eyes close then he opened them and looked right at me. I felt sorry for what he had become. I cried for the death of the man I loved so long ago. I asked my mistress if we could leave. And we did. We went home and I went to my room and cried. My mistress came in with concern on her face and asked me about Andrew. I told her about the man he had been. A gentle caring man who would do no harm to anyone. I told her how I hated the race of beings she came from for turning that man into a trained killer.

About three days after this, Andrew's master packed him and several other gladiators up and they went to the home wold of the visitors to fight there. I saw several other fights just to kind of watch over him. Then one day he was no longer in the arena. It was said that he had died in a training fight. I once again cried for the man I knew. I raised a glass to toast his freedom. His release from the hell he had been living in.

Five years later I met Andrew again. He had escaped and made his way back to me on Proxima. I went to my mistress and got him asylum in her home where he sat and devised a plan to take back Earth. To free the humans and eliminate the games.

Andrew raised an army of which he led out onto the field of battle. I remember the picture of him in the history books. Leading the charge, Andrew stood at the head of the battle. He fought like a soldier. He led many battles on dozens of worlds. When his army reached the home world of the visitors he led the charge on the capital. I heard that he died that day, in the arena like he thought he would. I was told he died with a sword in his hand. Andrew never lived to see the freedom for which he fought.

Two days after his death the visitors surrendered control of Earth and the rest of their empire collapsed. Andrew was buried on the site of his death. Over him was erected a statue. With the simple epitaph stating the words he used in life "Strength and Honor".

Every year on his birthday I go and place two roses on his grave, one for the death of the man I knew and one for the death of the man he had become. He died a hero, the one thing he never wanted to be. He died a freeman. He died a warrior. With him died the one person I ever allowed close to me again.

This is the story of the man that history forgot. Through the ashes of the war arose a new leader who gave us peace and led us to the stars. Forgotten was the man known as Andrew, the gladiator who had brought peace and freedom. My one true love.

The end

Great Stories Online 2000Ó TJ Greaton