by Vi Voxley
Cora agreed. The peace-loving species that had discovered the technology were bound to be appalled by its use. The Palians were nurturing and life-preserving down to their core. Cora was sure the use of their method for Condor’s purposes would create a precedent that would echo over all of the Union. The Palians didn’t take things like that lightly.
“I think this is great,” Cora said. “If they know, it’s all good, I think.”
Bad thing is, of course, that they won’t let us repeat the trick either
"I'll keep you updated," Ashby said. "Let me know if your program picks up something."
"Will do," Cora promised and the holocall ended, leaving her alone with Brocke again.
The guardian walked over to her work station, watching Cora in silence until she finished entering all the data that needed to be recorded manually.
Her heart was heavy, feeling the burden of the question beforehand. If even Condor's victims were so reluctant to divulge any information, it had to be something huge. Cora knew she had to crack open this latest mystery, but being near Brocke made it hard. If it was something he couldn't tell her, it would create tension between them and she didn't want that.
Brocke was standing right behind her, his strong hands combing through her hair surprisingly gently. It was so nice Cora almost moaned out of pleasure.
The hint was obvious. She wanted nothing more than to finish her work and go curl up on the bed in Brocke's arms, let him rip the clothes off her again. Afterward, they could just lie there and forget about the world... a world with Condor still walking free.
"What is Olyra?" she asked then, steeling herself.
Brocke stopped. Cora couldn't even hear him breathe as the guardian walked around her work table to stare at her with a look so dark Cora nearly took the question back.
"Where did you hear that name?" he asked.
"The survivors. I questioned them about Condor's men and that was the one they gave me."
After a long silence, Cora went on: "Are you going to tell what Olyra is?"
“No.”
The word cut into her happy little bubble like a knife. There was such finality in Brocke’s voice, coupled with icy fury. His blue eyes were burning with inner fire, but it was clear the anger wasn't directed at her, even if Cora felt insulted by the fact Brocke didn't trust her with the secret.
She had no idea what was going on, but it had to be serious. Brocke reminded her of a predator on the prowl, specifically one who had the prey in sights at last.
“I know where to look,” he said. “Make sure the Militant doesn’t follow me. That is not a place for the Union. Don't mention this to anyone. Absolutely no one, Cora.”
“Where are you going?” Cora asked although the answer was obvious, watching as Brocke retrieved the weapons he'd rested on her couch.
It hurt to see, more than she could have imagined. Instead of the nice night they could have spent together, Brocke was leaving without an explanation, just as Cora had feared. The gap between them she'd sensed that morning – a gap between a Terran and a Corgan – seemed like a chasm all of a sudden when Cora realized Brocke wasn't going to share everything with her.
Cora didn't like the idea that Condor had been utterly wrong about half-breeds. Brocke was a Corgan, there was no denying it.
“After Condor,” Brocke replied. "I should have guessed this sooner."
“I’m coming with you,” Cora said, but Brocke stopped her like she'd known he would.
The guardian's eyes were dead serious as he turned her to face him.
“No,” he repeated. “I am going alone. I told you, it is no place for the Union.”
“And that includes me?” Cora asked.
“You are a Terran,” Brocke said gruffly, only adding to her growing sense of unease. “I am going to a place that wouldn’t be kind to you.”
“I don’t care about that,” Cora argued, fully aware that it was futile. “I want to come with you. This is my case.”
“You solved your case,” Brocke said. “We have found the victims or at least most of them. If there are more, I will find them along with the killers. And I will deal with Condor.”
Cora knew it wasn’t Brocke’s intention to hurt her, but every word out of his mouth made her feel used and discarded. She had done her part, helped him pick up the trail, and now Cora was no longer needed.
Brocke must have seen some of that in her eyes, because he added, his deep voice rich with emotion, “Understand, Cora. It isn’t anything against you. I just need you to be safe, and I can’t protect you where I’m going.”
That is a nice way of saying “You’d get in the way”, Cora thought, but she couldn’t deny a part of her thought it was kind of romantic.
The question that she heard herself asking was, “Are you coming back?”
Brocke smiled, pulling her in for a long kiss.
“Yes,” he promised.
With that, he was gone, and Cora was left wondering if it had all been a dream after all.
Chapter Nine
Cora
It was amazing how quickly a human being could get accustomed to something.
Cora had known Brocke only for a few days, but with the guardian gone, she felt a deep loneliness she hadn’t sensed back when she had actually been alone.
The safety Brocke had enabled in her was lost without his presence. Cora didn’t mean simple physical well-being either. After the attack on the embassy roof when the whole mess had been dragged to light kicking and screaming, the Militant had realized Cora also needed protection. Her quarters were in an official building, but just in case, they wired it up on the day after Brocke left.
Cora had stood mutely, watching as they made sure there was a way for her to call for help no matter where, or in what state, she was. All of that technology and the closeness of her colleagues didn’t make her feel better than when Cora had lain in Brocke’s arms, certain that nothing alive could touch her while he was there.
No, the sense of loss she felt went much deeper.
Cora wasn’t afraid of Condor, even after all that she’d seen. The man was a murderer, pure and simple. He horrified her, which wasn’t the same emotion at all. Brocke had refused to talk about Gomor with her, but the rumors spoke of a petrifying air of terror in the prison. That was the kind of fear that brought forth inaction. If you were so afraid of something, it paralyzed you. Cora, however, simply loathed Condor and all of his killers. It didn’t hinder her, only drove her on, even if technically the case was as well as finished.
Much more than Condor, Cora suddenly feared the hole in her life Brocke had left behind.
It had been so easy. One night of passion, one day of gentleness, and Cora was done.
She fought against the implications with all her heart.
I have not fallen for him, Cora told herself firmly.
I have not, she repeated, but it sounded more like reassurance than truth. He is just a symbol. Some psychologist could phrase this better, but everything fits. The man is a walking, talking testosterone commercial. I’m merely projecting my desire for a real relationship on him.
The explanation was easy enough. Cora was willingly, readily prepared to admit that she had wanted someone in her life. A companion even, if not some true love kind of fairytale. On a strange alien world, Cora had thrown herself into her work, and now the repercussions were showing.
She didn’t believe a word of it.
* * *
A whole week had passed without a single word from Brocke, and Cora had done the same she’d always done.
She moved on and focused on her job.
The Militant had deferred to Cora's better judgment on anything that concerned the half-breed killings. Cora had no proof of it, but there were moments when she suspected that the chieftain himself – through Ambassador Swann – had opened some doors for her.
So Cora suddenly found herself leading a mission that spanned across all of Gaiya. She stood on a holopl
atform, addressing the Militant's high officers in every corner of the holy world. As she did so, Cora never mentioned Olyra. The name was mysteriously missing from all the survivor testimony records as well.
She couldn't deny that it still hurt Brocke hadn't revealed the truth to her, but Cora found herself utterly unable to break his trust. She needed to believe that the guardian knew what he was doing and that Brocke was safe. That was the most important thing to her. She would get all the answers later.
"Condor’s operation is crumbling," Cora was saying. "The Ruval factory has been razed clean of all signs of the killers, and most of the rescued prisoners have returned home under strict guard. What we need to fear now is the attention we're getting. Gaiya isn't talking about anything else, which is equally good and bad for us.”
“I believe the reports that leaked from the factory have finally woken up the people to truth of what a monster Condor is. It means society itself is more watchful, but therein lies the danger too. Every creep who agreed with the priest even a little before now knows about him. He might have new followers just due to the attention alone."
Cora paused for a second for emphasis, thinking that only a Corgan world would think there was anything to discuss. Using that word implied there were mitigating circumstances or a justification for Condor somewhere.
"But at least it has worked magic on the whole “Couldn’t help, was afraid” excuse," Cora went on, seeing a few of the officers smile a little. "If anything, we are swamped, trying to discern false hints from true ones. I find that to be an acceptable sacrifice. They are speaking up, can't ask any more than that."
People were looking out for each other, and it gave her hope.
The informants coming from Condor’s own side brought forth a wholly different emotion from her. After the first showed up, providing valuable confirmation to what the others had said, Cora took it for a result of her case being more public than it had been before. A week ago, she’d been handling serial killers, but now Condor’s name was in the mix, and people were disturbed by a priest doing something like that.
Then the second came, and the third, and Cora realized that something was going on. The grip Condor had had on his operation before was crumbling, like there was something scarier out there than the maniacal priest.
Cora could think of only one answer.
"One last thing," she said, choosing her words carefully. "So you would not think Corgans are doing nothing. I have reported this before, but the chieftain's son Brocke Brenger is chasing a lead as we speak. I believe the influx of informants is proof that Brocke has found a way to cause trouble for Condor. All we can do now is pull the net tighter around Condor and force him to show his true colors. We will bring justice to that monster, I give you my word."
The others nodded or saluted to her and the call was ended. Cora stepped off the platform, letting out a breath she hadn't known she'd held.
She was glad that there were finally results and that Brocke was apparently succeeding in whatever he was doing, but Cora couldn’t entirely suppress the dread that shot through her like a knife.
She had seen Brocke fight at the factory, witnessed him jump on top of a fighter, and heard numerous rumors, but nothing took away from a woman’s worry. Cora knew it was silly, but for all his prowess, Brocke wasn’t immortal. The fact he was better than the men he hunted didn’t make him immune to sneak attacks, and rifle fire, and gods knew what else.
He’s fine. He’ll come back. He promised he would.
But none of those reassurances worked. Cora started to miss him with a passion that made it difficult to focus on anything else.
The nights were the worst.
She was used to sleeping alone, but now her bed felt way too big and empty. Unable to fall asleep, she tossed and turned until finally falling into restless dreams of him.
A week after Brocke’s departure, Cora was no longer able to resist.
She slipped a hand between her thighs late at night, squeezing her eyes shut to remember the night they’d spent together. Her pussy was already wet, reacting to memories and images of Brocke at once. Cora bit her lips, grinding her legs together to give herself more pleasure. With her other hand, she pulled up the silky blue gown she slept in, fondling her breasts. At first, her touch was a poor substitute for how Brocke’s big, strong hands had felt, but as she got more turned on, it all blended together in her mind.
Cora pushed a finger into her pussy, feeling it clench down on the digit, needing more. She did too. Brocke had instilled a longing in him, an addiction she couldn’t hope to cure alone or be free of. Cora had no doubt she wanted more of him, could not go back. What other man could possibly hope to compare once she’d had the warlord?
Cora moaned, arching her back on the sheets as she fingered herself, thinking of him. The sound of his voice came back to her, and Cora imagined Brocke growling commands to her in that deep, impossibly sexy voice of his. She could almost feel him there beside her, watching her work herself open for his huge cock.
The avatar of Brocke urged her on, reminding Cora that she couldn’t hope to take him without preparation, but the teasing was driving her insane with desire. She would have given anything to just reach out in that moment and run her hands over the smooth, taunt skin of his amazing abs.
She tried to recall every detail of their fucking, knowing the overall sensation had been incredible. Cora tried to replicate Brocke’s motions, the way he’d gently teased her clit in sharp contrast to how achingly fast he had scissored his fingers inside her.
She kicked the sheets off her body, exposing herself to the chilly temperature of her quarters. Cora was infinitely grateful that the safety measures didn’t include cameras or microphones, just buttons to push.
“Brocke…” she whispered, the name falling from her lips without thinking.
It was a call, a prayer. She was writhing on the bed as Cora pushed two, then three fingers deep into her pussy, feeling her body close down on them hungrily. She couldn’t remember bringing herself so close so fast, but thinking of Brocke alone was enough to make her moan.
For some reason, replicating what they’d shared brought back more images. Cora could recall being lifted into Brocke’s powerful arms, held against him as he pushed inside her with punishing speed. She remembered the smell of his skin – masculine and sexy – overwhelming her as she’d clung to him, dragging her nails over his back to let him know how good he was making her feel.
Cora rubbed her clit with her other hand, wetting her fingers in the juices of her pussy, running them around the sensitive spot. She was panting now, her mouth open, filling the empty space of her rooms with cries of pleasure as she brought herself closer to cumming.
Suddenly, she knew without a shadow of doubt that she wouldn’t be able to give up Brocke so easily. All the glimpses in her mind, they were nothing but dreams mixed with almost forgotten memory. Cora wanted more, wanted to be present and feel, and taste, and touch every inch of Brocke until she could never forget.
Her body was twisting and turning on the sheets as Cora felt herself coming close to the edge of her pleasure. She licked her lips thinking of Brocke’s cock inside her, imagining how it would feel in her mouth. Cora wanted to try and wrap her lips around his cock, take him in as deeply as she could. To hear that deep, commanding voice groan in pleasure… She shivered, her pussy throbbing at the idea.
The image of Brocke that she’d imagined was watching her with bright, lust-filled eyes, his gaze shining like sapphire fire. Cora closed her eyes again, imagining the guardian stroking his cock while watching her touch herself before fucking her until she could no longer walk.
She spread her legs wider, trying to mimic the speed and precision with which Brocke had fucked her. Cora thrust her fingers in and out of her pussy fast, gasping for air as she neared completion, never opening her eyes to make the dream feel more real.
Fuck, fuck, fuck, went her mind. I need him, I want him so badly.
Cora fell back on the sheets, feeling her body shiver in the shock waves of her orgasm, panting heavily. She had never made herself cum that hard, and yet it was nothing compared to how Brocke had made her feel.
She lay there for a long minute before getting up and going for a shower. The lukewarm water running over her body, Cora tried to calm down.
This is getting ridiculous, she thought. I can’t spend my life waiting for him to walk through that door. I’m pretty sure this is how girls become cat ladies; they want someone to keep them company while they waste away.
The joke made Cora feel a little better. She smiled, pulling a towel around herself and went to fix herself a quick snack before making another attempt at falling asleep.
This time, it worked.
* * *
With rigorous exercise and volunteering for the most absurd things, Cora was starting to believe she would be able to put Brocke out of her mind after another week. Of course, she still wanted him to catch Condor and put an end to her case for real, but Cora also needed to be sure she didn’t get hung up on him.
As she walked to Ashby's lab on the request of the priestess, Cora considered the state of her affairs. For two weeks, there had been silence from both men. Brocke had neither called nor sent her any other kind of a message, but that was to be expected. Gaiya was Gaiya, and Corgan men didn’t consider keeping in touch a necessity.
Condor’s inaction was odder to her.
After Brocke had gone after the priest, there had been complete silence in terms of murders. Sure, bad things kept happening, and Cora had even received news of a dead half-breed, but he had been in a very simple conflict with another warrior. Nothing to do with Condor’s execution-style deaths.