Alien General's Beloved: SciFi Alien Romance (Brion Brides)

by Vi Voxley

  "Really. The potential to be a danger is not the same as actually being one."

  They'd talked some more until Corden was satisfied that Soren knew what he expected from him. The captain was still shocked, he could see that. That was good as well. He'd needed someone like that. Loyal, clever, but not too intelligent.

  Soren was a fair tactician and a considerable warrior, capable of putting his personal feelings aside when it came to duty. It made him a perfect second, but never a leader. As for the intelligence—the surprise had proved Corden right. It baffled the captain that the Elders wouldn't trust fifteen generals at the head of fifteen world-conquering armies without question. Not a thinker, then.

  That was what Corden was. He took people apart in his mind, bit by bit, so when the time came, he could break them. He had. It was a while ago now, but he had already done his duty once.

  So when he wasn't sure what the Abysmal was capable of, it showed something. He made sure Soren understood that. Brions weren't that great at keeping their history. It was one of the worst things about them, Corden had found. Their history was mostly oral and they relied heavily on their Elders, who kept the common knowledge alive in their connected cryo sleep. It meant the specifics were easy to lose.

  Like, the general thought, how they used to build the warships.

  The Abysmal was a product of a long-gone age, merely a distant cousin of the Claw. The fifteen ships that comprised the Brion fleet right now were brothers, functioning more or less in the same way. General Worgen's ship was a mystery. One he needed to solve before he could take action.

  Corden left his own flagship under the command of Captain Soren and made his way to the enemy alone, taking his personal fighter. He hoped their design hadn't changed much over the years or he'd be blown to pieces before he ever saw his opponent.

  Getting aboard the Abysmal proved much more difficult than locating it. Impossible, in fact.

  ***

  Good news and bad news, Corden thought, looking at the ancient warship from his pilot seat in the fighter.

  The good was that the fighters looked much the same back in the day as they did now. Made sense—their function remained the same after all. So everyone took him for one more fighter in the fleet. The bad was that nothing got in the Abysmal without a checkup. Worgen was being careful. Every fighter returning to the warship hovered near the landing bays before being allowed in. Corden assumed they were being scanned.

  That meant he had to find another way in. It wouldn't do to get discovered like that. He was too much of an easy target in the fighter. Face to face with the enemy, that's how he felt safe.

  No matter. He'd board one of the ships held hostage and find a way to get on the Abysmal. Corden waited, watching the smaller vessels move in between the fleet. Most of the ships were Terran, like the reports had said. That much seemed to be true. Worgen was looking for his fated and was under the impression that human women were fit for generals.

  Corden couldn't argue with that, but unlike the enemy, he wasn't sure it was that simple.

  There was one particular ship that the fighters seemed to guard most thoroughly. It was a small carrier, equipped with guns. Something a trader would use when they ventured into more dangerous parts of the galaxy.

  The Raptor it would be then.

  Unlike the Abysmal, the little ship had no issues with permitting him entrance. Corden frowned. That spoke of fear, not to be questioned. He didn't even ask to be let in. The bay doors simply opened when he approached and the general guided his fighter in. He landed, but didn't get out immediately. Through the screens, he observed the deck for a while.

  If the crew thought it weird he didn't exit, they refused to let it show. Everyone kept working. And all of the crew members were women. Corden noticed humans and Palians, a few Fremmas even, but they were all definitely female.

  And they were clearly afraid.

  As you should be, Corden thought, this is not a fight you want to be in.

  The general waited until there were no Brion patrols in the bay before exiting. With the ease of confidence, he walked out of the bay without rush, drawing looks but no protests. Once he got out of sight of the crew, he disappeared. Hours later someone finally started to ask questions about the fighter, but Corden remained hidden.

  His Brion blood called to action, but for the first hours, he simply observed, perched high up under the ceiling. It provided a good vantage point, to hide between the pipes and ledges, carefully balancing on them, hidden in the shadows. He found a lot of things moving around like that—for example, the human females hidden in several locations around the ship.

  The idea was good, the general had to admit. They'd launched the emergency escape pods, hiding them right on the ship's exterior. Hidden in cover, held tight to the ship with magnetic locks, they almost looked like a part of the ship itself. Corden allowed himself a small smirk, seeing that on his quick trip outside of the Raptor, stealing a suit for the purpose.

  He saw Worgen's men too, the sight of them making his skin crawl. Once, maybe, they'd been Brions like him, brothers and sisters. Now, they were nothing but shells, ghosts of their former selves. Corden could see the damage the years had done to them. The valor squares gave them away more firmly than the emptiness in their eyes. There was no life, no fire. They'd seen something that he couldn't even imagine and it had broken them.

  And above all, he saw the ship's beautiful captain, Lana. She was everywhere, sleeping only a few hours, then returning to her duties. Her blue eyes, hidden under the curtain of her long lashes, caught his attention the moment he first saw the captain. Corden found his eyes focused on her flawless, gorgeous body, his gaze wandering hungrily over her curvy form. The uniform she wore hid her body from him, but it fit skintight, leaving him with the delicious task of undressing her with his eyes.

  The captain's long, brown curly hair fell over her shoulders and Corden barely resisted the urge to bury his face in the silk of it. A couple of times Lana walked by him so closely that he could smell her scent, fresh and sweet and maddening like nothing he'd ever known before.

  She was a feisty one, too. Corden watched her attempts at rebellion, as futile as they were. It was clear that hiding the women was her idea, but she also tried to spare the rest of her crew. She had them all working together to protect each other, taking shifts to guard and to deliver supplies to those who were hiding.

  That last part was the problematic one. Corden admired Lana's willingness to put her own safety on the line, but it was getting foolhardy. He decided it was better to warn her that she'd be caught. And he could no longer resist the desire to be near her, talk to her. The woman had him under some spell and he loved it. She made his blood boil, his heart beat. She made him hunger.

  He waited until she was alone, on her way to see her crew again, before revealing himself to her. The surprise in her eyes was obvious, but Corden didn't miss the flash of lust.

  The general didn't miss the hope either, one he was willing to meet. Their goal was the same.

  "You mean to kill him?" the captain asked, her soft voice filled with expectation.

  "A man like that can't be allowed to live," Corden said honestly.

  "And you're the one to stop him?" Lana asked.

  Corden grinned. "I will, once the opportunity comes."

  The captain seemed to think that over. Corden let her, enjoying simply looking at her, the way her chest rose and fell in rhythm with her calm breathing. She was a fighter—he liked that about her. Not many people managed to be strong in the face of an enemy they couldn't hope to beat.

  "All right," Lana said then. "I will help you, if I can. What do you need me to do?"

  Corden considered his words carefully, not to give himself away before he was certain he could trust her.

  "First," he said. "I need you to tell me everything you know about his plans."

  Lana looked at him suspiciously. "Don't you already know?" she asked.

  "Y
ou wouldn't believe it, but he doesn't share his every motive with us," Corden said, smiling.

  Lana's own smile lit up her face, making her even more gorgeous.

  "I guess," she said. "I can tell you what I know. But what then?"

  "Then," Corden said, "we'll figure out how to get me close enough to kill."

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Lana

  Lana wasn't entirely certain why she chose to trust the warrior, or even if she really did. All she knew was that for the first time in weeks—maybe since she heard about Worgen—there was a chance. The slightest hope that something could be done, that the horrible general hadn't already succeeded in whatever sinister plan he had.

  The odd warrior with his easy smile raised many questions, but Lana wasn't about to complain when he basically offered to solve all her problems for her.

  There was just one thing.

  "You said we need to figure out how to get you on the flagship and in his presence," she said carefully. "Why is that difficult? I assume the fighter in my bay is yours."

  "It is," the warrior said. "Let's just say that me and the others, we aren't on the best terms. It's better if no one sees me, if no one knows I'm here."

  Warning bells were blaring in Lana's head, but she forced them away. So, the guy was a troublemaker. And? It was exactly what she needed—some problems in the enemy's ranks.

  "All right," she said. "What do you propose we do?"

  "I think it's wise if we have someplace safe and private to talk," the warrior said, the same mischievous smile still on his lips. "A patrol is nearing. You better make up your mind fast."

  "What?" Lana asked, looking around in a hurry. "How do you know that?"

  The man had been right, it was too dangerous for her to go see the women herself. If they started asking questions, really searching the ship, her crew might be found.

  "I can hear them approach," the warrior said as if that was no big deal. "So far they sense nothing, their pace is calm, in rhythm."

  It's true then. Brions could hear a feather drop.

  A guilty thought crossed Lana's mind—that she hoped the man didn't hear how fast her heart was beating near him—but that was a fool's hope. Brion warriors had impossibly keen senses. She didn't think he was lying about the patrol.

  "You have hidden yourself on my ship," she offered. "You must know a quiet place and if you can hear the patrols..."

  "It wouldn't be the same with you," the warrior said, taking a step closer. "I can hide myself if I need to, but not you. And your absence would be noted."

  Damn, he's right. Someplace quiet, someplace quiet...

  "We need to move," the warrior said absently, as if the danger they were in was amusing.

  The realization finally fit Lana. Her glare must have been something, because the man laughed, taking another step, coming almost in contact with her. His scent enveloped her, catching Lana off guard, clouding her mind. He had a magnetism to him that was pulling her in despite her will, despite her better judgment. Which was why what he was suggesting was such a phenomenally bad idea.

  "You mean my quarters," she stated. "You're unbelievable."

  "So they say."

  "You—"

  Lana never got to finish her sentence before the man grabbed her and pulled her into the shadows of the hallway. A second later, a patrol emerged from behind a corner, three warriors with the same cold look in their eyes. Lana found herself pressed tightly against the man from the shadows, whose name she didn't even know. It felt like her heart was trying to beat out of her chest.

  She hoped it was the fear of getting caught in the part of a ship she had no business in, rather than lust. The body inches from her was strong and firm, obvious even through layers of armor. Lana had to suppress the desire to run her hands over his muscled arms, resisting by reminding herself that she was compromising the safety of her friends.

  They stood still, the long moment stretching.

  "This is where the sounds were coming from," one of the patrol said. "A man and a woman."

  The voice and the way the Brions spoke unsettled Lana. There was an odd undercurrent of simple disinterest there. She could well imagine those voices spoke of their own deaths as impassively as if they were discussing breakfast. Even now, searching for her, they sounded almost bored.

  A part of her felt sorry for them. Only the man she was currently practically embracing seemed to still be sane.

  "The woman was Captain Cormac," another replied, making Lana wince.

  Her warrior—she couldn't think of him in any other way, though something about the man made her feel safe after the initial fright—looked down at her. There was a question in his eyes, but Lana didn't know what to say. She'd fucked up.

  "The man..." the first man was saying again, sounding puzzled.

  It was the first true emotion Lana had heard from any of them. She thought it was like they were walking around in a dream, speaking in that hollow voice, not completely awake. When they mentioned the man next to her, for the first time the voices sounded alive.

  "It was a Brion's voice," the second finished. "But all wrong."

  Now her warrior tensed up too.

  "There's someone here that shouldn't be. I think—" one of the warriors got to say.

  Lana had been so entranced by his presence that she yelped when he dashed past her, out into the open. The captain barely registered the speed with which he drew his gigantic battle spear. The patrol seemed to move in slow motion compared to him, although they were Brion warriors too.

  His cuts seemed to pierce air itself, lightning-fast and bloody. Lana's eyes went wide, seeing the precise artwork of death. Like a blade himself, the warrior first slashed at the patrolmen's wrists, where their communications devices lay. That Lana could understand; he couldn't have them call for aid. But the next ones targeted their mouths. Easily keeping all three in line, an unstoppable blur in the middle of them, her warrior cut long gashes across their faces.

  Killing took time, Lana knew. He was trying to silence them. What could they have said? The fear rose in her heart anew. Who was that man and how was he making three Brion warriors look little better than children with sticks?

  Blood was flowing down from the cold warriors' faces, but their eyes were finally alight. Lana watched the lone warrior dodge between their blades, cast in haunting red light, while the valor squares on the others remained dead. The floor was dirty with blood and teeth and broken bone. The smell was nauseating and the captain couldn't understand for the life of her how the Brions could keep fighting with their jaws hanging only by skin.

  Satisfied that no word would ever leave their mouths, her warrior slowed down. Lana could see his movements again, almost lazy now that he'd achieved his first goal. He kept moving, trying to hold each of the other three spears in sight, but the fight was already over. Lana saw the hesitance in the others, the pain in their motions. One by one, they attacked their lone opponent and one by one they died.

  In less than a minute, all three lay dead on the ground, in a pool of their blood. The victor was standing over them, unharmed, not even out of breath.

  Lana agreed with the dead warriors. There was something wrong with this new one. All her crew couldn't bring down one Brion—they'd tried—and this man killed three like it was nothing.

  Could he really do it? Lana thought. Could he kill Worgen?

  She stepped out of the shadows, picking her way between blood and the three corpses.

  "I wish you hadn't seen that," the warrior said, sheathing the spear. "Brion fights are never pretty. I had to make sure they didn't say anything about us."

  That I can understand, yes.

  "And the thing they were going to say about you?" she asked with sudden courage.

  The man looked at her, for once without the cocky grin.

  "The less you know about me, the better," he finally said. "If something goes wrong, if you are questioned about me...it's better if you really don't know. B
rions can tell these things."

  "I don't even know your name," Lana said.

  "You shouldn't know that either."

  Lana sighed. "Don't give me that mysterious crap," she said, "how do you expect me to trust you?"

  He laughed.

  "That is fair," he allowed. "You can call me Corden."

  "Like that general?"

  "Pure coincidence. It's a common name. Now, what do you suppose we do with these bodies?"

  That snapped Lana back to reality, not in a pleasant way.

  Good question. How do I explain three dead Brions?

  "We have to get rid of them," she said, "in a way that would damage the bodies so they couldn't be examined."

  The warrior nodded, a smirk on his lips.

  "Very good," he said. "Anything nearby that could do that?"

  "The engine room is nearby. We can leave the bodies there and I could create a small explosion."

  Together, they moved the three dead Brions. Or Corden did. Lana led the way and kept an eye out. She did her best to clean up the mess the fight had left, mopping up the blood with her jacket. Lana knew that later she'd have to send someone she trusted to do a better job, but it did for now. After a few minutes of walking she noticed that the warrior was going without her guidance and his senses were surely better than hers.

  "You know, you could at least pretend not to know my ship better than I do," Lana said, but for some reason she couldn't get mad at the man.

  There was something about his presence that made her feel like things were going to be all right. Rationally speaking, they were terrible. Worgen did not forgive attacks on his men and once he found that three of them had died on her ship, there was no way of knowing what he might do. But Lana felt calm. When Corden laughed at her halfhearted accusation, it made the captain smile too.

  Terrible time to develop a crush, she reminded herself. Couldn't possibly be worse. Stop that.

  The engine room was blessedly empty. After Worgen had ordered the murder of her male crew members, the ship was understaffed, especially there. Since the ship was sailing peacefully in the Abysmal's wake, there was no need to man the engine room. Lana was grateful for that. She went around the rooms, searching for a suitable place and finally found a way to stage the accident required. It would look like the Brions poked something they shouldn't have and there was an explosion, after which the room decompressed itself.