Brocke: Alien Warlord's Conquest (Scifi Surprise Pregnancy Alien Military Romance)

by Vi Voxley

  Chapter Twelve

  Brocke

  His life had turned upside down, but it wasn’t an unpleasant experience.

  Just unfamiliar.

  Before, Brocke had only had to worry about himself, and that was easy. Corgan warriors had amazing reflexes and instincts, it took great skill to sneak up on them unseen and unheard. It should have been more difficult for him with a Terran mother, but for a half-breed, Brocke’s body had accepted all the changes easily.

  The priests had been fascinated by him when he’d been younger, trying out new techniques and testing several implants on him for the first time.

  Brocke had never felt fear, not even concern for his own well-being. But now he had Cora and their child, and that changed everything.

  The guardian would have loved to storm right to the priestess and make Ashby tell them everything, but the rational part of him knew that first they needed to shake their pursuers. Cora was right. Going there straight away was nothing short of suicide.

  So, against his desire to go and work his way towards Condor, Brocke led Cora away from the city center, slowly moving through darkened streets and places too tight for a fighter. Cora followed him, her soft hand in his palm, her beautiful eyes narrowing when she realized they were going to leave the city.

  “I thought we were going to find Ashby,” she said, confused.

  “We are,” Brocke said. “Just not yet. I wanted to know where she lived, that’s all. I’m not sure if you should come with me.”

  Glaring at him made Cora’s hazel eyes even prettier somehow.

  “You are not going to ditch me now,” she told him, and her ferocity amused Brocke. “I’m a part of this as much as you are. I will not hide out somewhere while you’re in danger.”

  “I can’t put you in danger,” Brocke said seriously, seeing the way Cora pulled back. “I will not let you get hurt for me.”

  The little Terran’s kind smile warmed him up like nothing else.

  “I don’t think it’s entirely your fault,” she said. “I was after Condor long before you showed up.”

  “That might be true,” Brocke agreed. “But he didn’t want to catch you so badly before he found out you were expecting my child. Correct me if I’m wrong, but I’m sure I had something to do with that.”

  There was an odd look in Cora’s eyes as she peeked at him, and her pace dropped until Brocke almost had to drag her along.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked, wondering if he’d said something inappropriate by Terran standards.

  It was so easy, being with Cora, that the reminder that they came from different worlds was always very sudden.

  “Is that how you see this?” she asked very quietly. “That our child is something you did to me…”

  Brocke caught the last words in a fierce, passionate kiss. Cora struggled for only a moment before succumbing to his embrace. When they parted, the night still hiding them from the fighters, Brocke could see her eyes staring up at him – big, wide, and hopeful.

  “No,” he said. “This is the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

  A broad smile spread on Cora’s face before she could regain control over herself. Even then, she wasn’t entirely able to hide her joy.

  “All I meant was that it put you right on Condor’s radar,” Brocke went on, wrapping his arms around Cora’s body. “The last place I want you to be, but I won’t let anything happen to either of you, I need you to know that. You are mine now, both of you.”

  In response, Cora kissed him. Her lips were soft and sweet, and the kiss they shared was the most loving one yet, full of hope for the future.

  “Alright,” she said, pulling away from him, the coy smirk still playing on her lips. “Where are we going then?”

  “To the edge of the city,” Brocke said. “As far as we can go before the fighters pick us up. Then I’ll find us a speeder.”

  “Can’t we sneak away?” Cora offered. “If we need to get out of here even I know a few secret passages. Unseen ones, at least.”

  Brocke shook his head.

  “I want them to find us,” he explained. “I want them to see where we’re going.”

  Up ahead, the streets were brighter again, and Brocke knew they needed transport soon if they wanted to stand a chance against the fighters. No support was coming. No one really knew they were in trouble, thanks to the priestess and the fact Brocke liked to work alone. Other than him and Cora, there wasn’t anyone who knew what was going on.

  That was fine. Brocke found himself enjoying it – the secret, private world of him and Cora, even if it was a dangerous one. He had always worked best on his own, which made him a perfect guardian for Gomor, but now he relished Cora’s presence. She brought such brightness into his life despite – or perhaps, because of – everything that was wrong.

  “Why would you want that?” Cora asked. “They’ll catch us.”

  “Not where we’re going.”

  In the dimness of the world, Brocke could see Cora’s eyes flash with anxiety.

  “I don’t want to go back to Gomor,” she said quickly. “That place has a way of crushing your soul.”

  “That’s what it’s intended for, yes,” Brocke allowed. “We are going to the Citadel.”

  There was a long silence on Cora’s part as they sneaked closer to the open area in front of them. Brocke recalled there was a small unit of warriors stationed nearby, which meant their bikes were also there.

  Looking up, the warlord saw that the fighters were too high to spot them immediately. The enemies had to keep an eye on a large area, but Brocke knew the speeder was bound to give them away at once.

  Irrelevant. Just like everything else but Cora.

  He had no intention of getting caught. Brocke was a better driver on the speeder than any man in a fighter, and the journey to the great fortress Citadel was anything but comfortable for the fighters. It went through dangerous patches of forests and between tight canyons where the ships couldn’t track the bike so easily.

  Cora finally found her tongue when Brocke spotted what he needed. The speeder wasn’t far from where they were standing, but they had to run nonetheless.

  “I don’t think we’re at a stage in our relationship where I should meet your parents,” she said, and although Cora’s voice suggested a joke, Brocke heard nervousness.

  “Neither the chieftain nor my mother are there,” he said. “They are off-world, but the Citadel is still the safest place on Gaiya.”

  “Oh, good,” Cora said, sighing dramatically. “I was afraid I had to make small talk with Nadar Brenger.”

  Brocke laughed, his deep voice sonorous and resonant in the otherwise silent air around them.

  “You have clearly never met the chieftain.”

  “I didn’t mean to either,” Cora said, grinning. “He scares the fuck out of me.”

  It sounded like she was about to say more, but in the next second Brocke pulled her back into the shadows, his hand gently covering her mouth. Cora understood, staying still, and he let her go.

  One of the fighters had come incredibly low, almost landing on the square the speeder stood on. Brocke held Cora, wondering if the fighter could somehow determine their location. If it had heat readers, could it pick them out?

  The ship was so close. He and Cora had been able to dodge one on the embassy roof, but there they’d had room. The narrow alleyway they hid themselves in would turn into a blazing inferno the second the fighter opened fire.

  The only thing that could have stopped it from doing so was uncertainty. Brocke didn’t doubt that Condor had given instructions to his men. Keeping a low profile apparently hadn’t been one, but sparing Cora, on the other hand, was.

  He saw Cora hold her breath pressing herself against him.

  With one arm around her, Brocke stayed as still as a statue.

  “It can’t be here by accident,” he said quietly. “We need to go for the speeder the first chance we get. When I tell you to run, run.”<
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  Cora nodded.

  In that moment, Brocke knew she was meant for him. Not just as a person who happened to cross paths with him, not just as the future mother of his child. Cora was his destined other half, the one so rarely found.

  Other races in the galaxy – like the Brions – felt the bond with their mate almost physically. The Corgans didn’t have such luck, and Brocke didn’t know if it would have even worked with him, being the half-breed he was. But the chieftain had once told Brocke it had only taken a second to know that Brocke’s Terran mother was the one for him. Like a revelation, destiny had showed its face just for a moment.

  As the fighter moved on and Brocke marveled at the determined, excited smile on Cora’s face, he knew his fate was right there, in his arms.

  “Run,” he told her.

  * * *

  Gaiya was a planet of contrasts. It was beautiful and magical but also more dangerous than any other world in the Corgan realm. The serenity of the ocean was matched by the severe conditions in the untamed forests.

  Not even all Corgans ventured there. Thus, most of them had no idea about the true horrors dwelling there.

  On any other day, Brocke wouldn’t have chosen that path – especially with Cora – but right then, the forests protected them.

  The Corgan speeders were made to be seen and heard. They were challenges to their enemy, roaring as loudly as the warriors astride on them. The powerful engines could be heard for miles and miles, but they weren’t easy to see.

  As Brocke took the speeder right into the forest lying at the doorstep of Eborat, he knew the greatest danger to them were the Haunters. The fighters followed, but their line of fire was easy to dodge with the speeder. That was nothing in itself.

  From the darkness, Brocke could hear a whisper go through the woods. It was like a wave rushing over the treetops, but it wasn’t the trees that brought the horror.

  “Courage, Cora!” he called to her over the speeder’s battle cry. “Whatever happens, hold on!”

  Her reply was lost in the screams coming from all around them. Gaiya’s monstrous predators appeared in their hunting pack, still only shadows following them, jumping from tree to tree. Brocke saw some cut down by the still-firing fighters, but they were lucky shots and nothing more. The trees were tall and the woods thick. It was nearly impossible to see anything, even with the lights cast from the ships.

  It was total chaos.

  The night was torn apart by the searchlights flickering in and out, aiming their beams where the ships thought the speeder could be. The fighters quickly understood the Haunters were present, and it made their shots more accurate. Seeing a whole pack of creatures in the treetops was easier than spotting the bike.

  Brocke gritted his teeth, forcing the speeder to go as fast as the forest allowed him.

  The fighters didn’t need to see him, the Haunters were enough because they had eyes on him. And one lucky shot was all it would take. Brocke’s armor would protect him, but the flimsy uniform Cora wore would be no protection at all.

  When the first Haunter jumped, Cora’s shrill scream filled the air. Brocke twisted the bike so sharply he could feel Cora’s grip slip for a second.

  Fear he’d never felt struck like lightning. Both his hearts skipped a beat as the moment seemed to stretch forever. If Cora were to fall, Brocke knew he’d never be able to turn the bike around fast enough to save her.

  The Haunters were predators to the bone, ancient terrors of the planet. They weren’t cruel, lacking the intelligence for anything that sophisticated. But they were always hungry, and fresh blood was their favorite. Brocke couldn’t help imagining them catching Cora, ripping her beautiful body to shreds before he could even turn the bike around.

  Then, Cora’s hands regained their hold around him, and Brocke could feel her comforting weight against him.

  “What the fuck are these things?” Cora yelled, pulling her gun.

  Brocke could feel her wrap her other arm into the straps fastening the swords to his back.

  “Shoot!” he roared, figuring explanations could wait.

  Cora apparently didn’t think it worthy of a response or, more likely, didn’t have the time to say anything. As the bike sped through the woods, more and more Haunters leaped from the trees. They were black as coal with wide, fanged mouths and clawed hands cutting the air as they tried to jump.

  Brocke couldn’t take a moment to kill any of them. Every last bit of his attention was on swerving from the monsters and the fighters both. The tiniest mistake would cost him Cora. The fact he was in danger too barely registered in Brocke’s mind.

  Her blaster gun drew attention, too bright in the perpetual darkness of the forest. The fighters came closer, but the Citadel was up ahead.

  The distance they’d traveled wasn’t that great on the grander scale of Gaiya, but it seemed like a lifetime to Brocke. He kept telling himself that a night in safety was all they needed, but if Cora were to die before they got there, he would never forgive himself.

  The Haunters were almost on top of them, but the trees were becoming sparser. The predators were hungry, not stupid. Somewhere in their violent core, instinct raised its head. They had dealt with Corgan warriors before and not with success. They knew the Citadel, recognized its lights as the mountain-fortress loomed before them.

  Cora screamed again when several Haunters made a last, desperate attempt to claim their chosen prey. Brocke couldn’t dodge them all and heard the razor-sharp claws drag over his armor.

  “Cora?” he called, hearing the dread in his voice.

  As a reply, she clung to him, letting Brocke know she was alive. The speeder rushed out of the forest, and the Haunters were gone. Brocke didn’t stay to check behind them, but he assumed they’d slunk back into the depths of the forest where they’d appeared from.

  The fighters were still there but so was the Citadel. Condor’s men were reckless, but not insane enough to take on the chieftain’s stronghold.

  When the massive gates of the fortress opened for them and Brocke slowed down, the sky behind them was empty once more. He took the speeder inside as the mountain closed behind them.

  Brocke was about to turn and reach for Cora when she slid off the back of the bike, falling into a puddle of her own blood.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Cora

  The last thing Cora remembered was the sudden, sharp strike of the claws. In her memories, it seemed like they had glinted in the searchlights while coming to slice her in two.

  After that, she didn’t know what happened. Cora wasn’t even sure if or how she’d survived, but she woke up in a small room with Brocke standing by her bedside.

  The guardian’s bright blue eyes were filled with unimaginable concern.

  “Brocke,” Cora whispered. “Where am I? The creatures, they…”

  “You’re safe,” Brocke replied, and Cora could hear the relief in his voice. “For a moment there, I thought I’d lost you. The Haunter’s blow went by very close. I could hear it screech on my armor.”

  “Haunter,” Cora repeated, looking around the room. “Fitting name. What happened to me? Where did those things come from?”

  Brocke looked like he had more pressing concerns, but Cora wanted to know. As her mind cleared, she started putting things together. The room she was in was brightly lit, but the smells were all wrong and unfamiliar. Cora could see strange equipment everywhere, shelves and tables filled with substances she didn’t recognize.

  She had seen Ashby’s office before, so it wasn’t a big leap to figure it out. She was in the laboratory of a priest, and someone had stitched her up. Cora could still feel pain where the Haunter had got her above her right shoulder, but it was distant like a memory.

  Yet the fact remained. She had been treated by a Corgan priest.

  “Haunters live in the forests,” Brocke said dismissively. “They are predators that will be soon wiped out by the expansion of the cities. You never should have seen one, but i
t was the fastest way here.”

  “And by ‘here’ I assume we made it to the Citadel?” Cora asked, trying to take in everything.

  It was a technique she’d learned when she first joined the Militant. Cora had been told that after a serious accident or a situation she didn’t fully comprehend, it was important to test herself. If she could register details and remember them, at least her brain was fine.

  Cora looked around, her eyes drifting from the vials and tech to Brocke’s strong, powerful form by her bedside.

  “Yes,” the warlord said. “We are here. Safe for now, but we can’t stay for long. How are you feeling?”

  “A priest operated on me?” Cora asked instead. “The wound, it was treated by one of them?”

  “Of course. The citadel has the best surgeons on Gaiya,” Brocke said as though that wasn’t a question at all.

  “Okay,” Cora said, trying to sit up, but the pain in her shoulder flared up.

  She shrugged it off. Wounds were nothing and neither was pain, at least not until they became a problem. Cora was interested in a much more urgent matter.

  “Please tell me they didn’t do anything unholy to me,” the words spilled out of her mouth. “Do I still have all the organs I should have? No more, no less? I’ve heard of the weird stuff the priests like to put in people. I don’t want gills.”

  As she was saying all that, Cora knew she was being silly. Looking at the way the smirk in the corners of Brocke’s lips grew wider, she figured her questions were really dumb, but he didn’t laugh at her.

  “Like I said. You’re fine,” Brocke calmed her. “I wouldn’t let them do anything unnatural to you. You are a Terran, and they know that. All they did was fix you up. The wound needed to heal quickly, so there might be a few boosters and stimulants in your veins that your body has never experienced before. But they have all been tested on Terrans. Nothing the priests did is a threat to you. Or the baby.”