by Vi Voxley
Confusion, doubt, survival instinct kicking in. And finally, seeing his steely gaze and the look in his eyes, the decision. Corden could practically see the memory playing before their minds. The offer of honor, of home. Having their names known. Dying a true Brion. And being a true Brion meant doing what your general told you to, even if it meant death.
With practiced ease, they drew back their hands to cut strong and fast. Corden said nothing, but Lana's terrified scream pierced the air.
The knives went on their way. Corden remained silent until the fraction of a second before it was too late to halt the strike.
"Stop," he ordered, his deep voice booming, echoing back from the walls.
It was a miracle that they did. Brion reflexes were far beyond the other species in the galaxy, but even they couldn't stop time. Corden had waited until the moment when he'd known for a fact that both of them would have done it. That the warriors wanted to regain their honor so badly that they were willing to die for it. Compared to that, killing for it was the easy way out.
He had to use his general's voice. The deep, dark sound of absolute command that the warriors had been bred to obey. It was one of the more curious parts of the Brion military culture, one that other species rarely understood.
Any warrior could challenge an officer for their position. Of course, if they lost, they paid for it with their lives, so the challenges weren't that common. But until that moment, the same warrior would be expected to obey every command the officer gave. Including cutting their own throat.
Twin red lines ran along the throats of both warriors. They were deep and the blood flowing from them was coloring their armors crimson. Corden was pleased. They had proved themselves and showed him that Brion warriors could be brought back even after a hundred years of dishonor.
"Put the knives away," he said. "You passed."
Both warriors sheathed their knives, not moving to stop the blood. Their general had not allowed it yet.
"Treat your wounds," Corden said, turning to Lana while they did.
His gesha was speechless, gasping for air, unable to tear her eyes from the bleeding warriors.
"I know you think this is barbaric," he said seriously, "but I had to show you, show us both."
Lana looked at him, the emotion in her eyes almost making Corden regret that he'd made her witness it. He forced that feeling down. She might be shocked, but it was necessary. The general didn't know what would happen in the days ahead. He might need her to trust these men at a second's notice. His gesha might not approve it, but now she would.
"W-will they be all right?" she asked.
"Yes," the general said. "They've been through worse. These little cuts are nothing. They're Brions."
"They almost cut their own throats," Lana protested, but Corden tilted his head toward the warriors.
Both had frozen in their actions. Hands pressed to their wounds, they stood and stared at him.
Corden knew what it was. He'd called them Brions. They might not have deserved it and he honestly didn't really think of them as Brions yet, but a man couldn't live on hope alone. He had to give them something, and this was the least he could do.
The emotion in their eyes was indescribable.
"They look like they're about to cry," Lana murmured.
Corden said nothing. They were telling him everything he needed to know anyway, the valor squares beaming quietly.
Both would die for him now. Men often felt like that toward those who gave them back everything they'd thought long lost.
***
After letting Lana get back to her duties, Corden and his two new warriors proceeded to wait for the second shipment of originals. Again, he felt the already familiar tinge of pain when he had to let Lana go.
The general knew she was expected to meet the newcomers and direct them to the Palians, but it still felt wrong. Now that she no longer had the protection Worgen had shown her, anything could go awry. If she gave the Brions any cause to suspect her, Corden doubted the mad general would forgive her again.
He would have gladly sent one of his warriors to guard her, but they were wounded. They would live, but staying hidden while bleeding was not something he wanted them to attempt. It was easier near the lab that had been emptied again.
They waited, like he had done once before.
"How many of you remain?" he asked. "I mean those who set out with Worgen."
"Not many," Tuven answered, his voice broken from the cut to his neck, rough and hoarse. "Less than a hundred."
That was only a few, considering the size of the warship, but for the sake of his mission, it was still too many.
No matter, Corden thought. He had not told Lana that, but he didn't intend to board the Abysmal alone.
The new originals entered the hall as the first batch had. Corden and his warriors waited in silence until the general was sure all the exits had been sealed. Then they stepped forward, this time hiding on the floor with the enemies.
Like the ones before them, the originals drew their spears.
"Is this what you became warriors for?" Corden asked.
***
It went faster this time.
Perhaps it was seeing Tuven and Ilen by his side and the example they set. Their presence made it so much easier for Corden to read the emotions of the enemies from their crystals, as faint and relatively unused as they were. Different, this time. Jealousy, disappointment, lust for vengeance, deceit. He'd seen none of those when he was alone.
An interesting addition.
Of the ten men, three stepped forward when he called them. Corden sent two back, knowing they'd be first to be killed, targeted by both sides. He'd read the lie in both. One wanted to betray him, the warrior's eyes burning with loathing when they should have been regretful. The other was a coward, coming over to his side because he thought Corden would win.
He would, but the general didn't need weaklings who were so easy to sway. Men like that were only waiting to switch again when the tide turned.
The last was almost a mirror image of the two he already had with him. Corden allowed only him to approach, and then the killing started. Tuven and Ilen, although wounded, did their part. Not that he needed much help, but he supposed it was better if it was over quickly.
Barely five minutes had passed before they stood over another pile of corpses.
Corden turned to the newcomer, asking his name.
"Arben, General," the man said.
Corden's voice was cold and hard when he spoke again.
"I see weakness in you," he said. "I know you want to redeem yourself, but I can't trust you by my side if you are not ready to do what it takes."
The man didn't shrink back from him like the coward Corden had sent away. Instead, he looked Corden in the eye and said:
"I am, General. Order me and I will do it."
"Kneel."
Arben did, even though his valor squares pulsed confusion.
"Bare your neck," Corden said.
Understanding. Resistance. Acceptance. Corden thought if Lana would have liked this way better, but he doubted it. For all her spirit, his gesha was a gentle soul. She didn't appreciate the brutal tactics of the Brions and that was fine. Corden didn't need her to become a Brion; she was perfect to him the way she was.
"You will die a Brion, Arben," he said.
The kneeling man opened his eyes and there was only gratitude there. Corden wondered what exactly Worgen had done to his warriors to break their spirit so badly. In his hands, they became alive again, like a veil had been lifted from their eyes and shackles undone from their hands.
He chose to do the deed himself this time. The general drew his spear and brought it up like a scythe. Arben was still looking at him, unflinching. The only fear his valor squares showed was the natural fear of dying. Even warriors who lived with the possibility every day didn't like the idea. They were merely prepared for it.
Corden struck. Arben flinched, but didn't try
to pull away from the blow. He was left kneeling, breathing heavily, with Corden's spear an inch in his neck. Blood trickled down when the general pulled the blade away, wiping it clean on his coat and sheathing the weapon.
"Rise," Corden said.
Arben did, his eyes filled with relief. And underneath it Corden saw the same emotion he'd seen before with the other two. He had no doubt they were his now, his forever.
The general ordered them to hide like the day before, but this time closer to the bridge. He might need them in a hurry. Not because there was something he couldn't handle, but because Corden couldn't be in two places at once.
He left them, moving on to other urgent matters. They seemed to be piling up, but the first order of business was to make sure that he didn't stand alone when the battle arrived. Corden slipped into the bay where his fighter still stood, untouched. He signaled the Claw to come to his location, to follow the fighter's beacon. It was time he matched the Abysmal against an equal opponent, even if it meant losing his ship.
Corden had briefly considered calling his brother generals as well, but decided against it. Until he knew whether the Claw could damage Worgen's ship, it made no sense. If the Abysmal really was indestructible, it didn't matter whether one or fifteen ships stood against it. No, it was better if they made for Briolina, ready to protect the home world if Corden failed. Until then, he wouldn't risk losing all of the Brion armies.
Finally, he came to the riskiest part of his plan.
***
Corden could have sworn the Torons were waiting for him.
They rose when he approached. About a hundred faces looked at him, gathered in a hall near their special quarters, darker and more cavernous than most of the ship.
"You," said one of the beasts.
That was one way of greeting. Corden sized up his company, thinking whether they could really blame him for the four unlucky Torons simply because he was a Brion too.
"I hear you've been causing the captain trouble," he said. "She is not to blame. No one on this ship is to blame."
"We know," said the one who seemed to speak for them that day. "We want the black general, but he is gone. Hides in his ship."
"That is true," Corden said. "I will kill him, but you must do as I say."
The Torons didn't answer at once. Corden knew they had a problem with being ordered around after their long history of slavery, but he had no time for democracy. They either obeyed him or they were a problem.
"We listen," the speaker said.
Good.
"I promised you your revenge," the general said, "but you have to be patient and you have to do exactly as I tell you. Like this, you will get payback for everyone that has died. Do you understand?"
"We understand," said the Torons.
It took a while for Corden to explain his plan to them. Some of it was the language—he needed to make sure they got all the little details right. The Toron way of only speaking in short sentences was maddening when he needed them to repeat back what he'd said. In the end, the general was satisfied that the Torons knew what they had to do.
And the word risky just kept haunting him. The Torons were strong and loyal and fierce, but like all such species, unpredictable as well. Of anyone, a Brion would know the inherent dangers of that, blamed by the entire galaxy for their erratic behavior. There was no test he could conduct. Corden could only trust them to keep to his plan.
"You understand the dangers?" he asked at last.
"We do," said the speaker for the Torons.
"Some of you might die. In fact, it's very likely some of you will. Almost certain."
The Toron didn't answer. Corden knew he was saying things they were prepared for, but it felt wrong to send them into a fight without being honest about it.
He was almost gone when the ship's intercomm called Lana to the landing bay, saying General Worgen wished to meet with her. Suspecting the worst, Corden had to take a moment to calm the Torons. As soon as they heard Worgen's name, a heavy, thundering growl had risen all around him.
"Patience," he said. "Not yet."
"You promised," said the speaker when he turned to leave. "Remember that. You promised us his head."
"You'll have it," Corden said.
His mind was a mess. The whole plan was based on keeping everyone under control for just a little longer. If Worgen discovered him now, it would all be over. Why was he back on the Flora?
And Lana... Lana was with him. Corden growled, much like the Torons had.
He rushed through the ship, only to find that Lana and Worgen were no longer in the bay.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Lana
It felt weird to be in her quarters with someone else other than Corden. No, not weird. Wrong.
Lana had had no choice in the matter, however. Worgen's arrival had been the worst kind of surprise. She hadn't been prepared for a surprise visit, which was why the bridge had to look for her over the ship's comm.
Lana was eating with the crew, getting her first real meal after days of relying on fast bites whenever she had the time. It served many purposes, for example, seeing with her own eyes how high the tension was. And getting some warm tea in her after seeing two men almost kill themselves, as if that would make things better.
The scene was still vividly before her mind's eye. Lana understood why, but by God, the Brions had really medieval ways of proving their loyalty. She wondered what they would have thought of the Inquisition.
Taken notes, probably.
Worgen certainly would have, she thought.
The mad general was pacing her room, saying nothing yet. A crazy idea passed through Lana's head: she wondered whether or not he could actually smell Corden in the quarters. Brion warriors had extraordinary senses, after all. She hoped they didn't include a bloodhound's skill set or the Flora was doomed.
Most of what was going on in her head was a welcome distraction from the fact that she was alone with Worgen. For the first time since Lana had met her real gerion, she was truly alone with Worgen and Corden was nowhere near. A part of her was glad; for Corden to be discovered now would be catastrophic. Another, much more realistic part was afraid that it didn't matter anyway.
"How are my warriors faring?" Worgen asked at last after a long silence.
"The Palians tell me everything is progressing nicely. Slowly, perhaps, but well," Lana said, trying to sound calm and collected.
It wasn't a topic she wanted to discuss. Worgen had ordered her to make it her business to know everything, while Corden and Yarel kept Lana in the dark on purpose. Of course, any other possible topic of conversation was just as bad, every word carrying the threat she might betray vital information.
"I will inspect them soon," Worgen said leisurely, walking around like he was really interested in interior design.
Lana suspected something bad was coming, but she had no way of stopping it. All she could do was be strong and fight until the end.
"Yes, General," she said. "I will signal the scientists when you order so. But they warn me their work shouldn't be interrupted at will, so you might have to wait a bit."
"They will show my warriors to me when I say so. I've given them plenty of time."
"As you say, General. I don't know anything about the techniques they use, but I don't think you're supposed to meddle with things like that."
That was as bold as Lana dared to get with him. Worgen gave her a hard look, his dark eyes unnerving Lana like nothing else . They said eyes were the mirror of the soul. What did that say about a man whose eyes were almost entirely black? She could never read them properly. Lana only understood when he was mad, but by that point it was obvious by the people around him dying.
It seemed she got away with that bit of snark, since Worgen didn't comment on it further.
"You said you knew things about Briolina I didn't," he said instead.
"I never claimed that, General," Lana hastened to correct him, though carefully. "I said I
might know a few things that have changed since you were last there. I can't say if I do."
"Begin, then," Worgen said, taking a seat in one of the chairs in the living room.
All right, Lana thought. This is not so bad. I can tell him this. Brions are capable of defending themselves, I'm sure.
"Briolina is guarded by many things," she said. "The defenses haven't been tested in a while, though. The armies are usually enough to keep any enemies away, and who would attack your home world anyway?"
A crooked smile gave Lana her answer, so she went on.
"There is a perimeter of defense platforms, I think," she said. "I don't know how many or where they are exactly, but I think they move. I also heard they can detect jumps into the system, so they lock onto the target before you're even there."
Worgen regarded her with the same passive look he'd worn since he stepped off his fighter. Lana could get no indication of whether she was doing something wrong or right. Or if she was even telling him anything he hadn't known already.
"Go on," Worgen said.
"They will be waiting, you know," Lana blurted out, only then remembering to add: "General."
"The armies?" Worgen asked. "I know."
"Don't you fear them?"
Lana bit her tongue. It seemed like she had no control over it anymore. Why did her mind insist on getting her in trouble?
Worgen was smirking. The smile twisted his face into a hideous mask, somehow even more terrifying than his wrath.
"Fear," he repeated. "Brions do not fear."
For some reason, Lana couldn't stop herself from speaking. The mad general seemed to tolerate her arguing for the time being, so she thought it might be a good idea to use his leniency. Find out something that Corden could use later.
"I read that one of their generals said something about that," Lana said. "One of the twins."
When Worgen didn't respond, only kept looking at her with that damned smirk, she went on.
"There were two generals, twins. Faren and Gawen. When they got their flagships, Gawen named his Fearless. His brother said he was a fool. That every man feared something. And that denying that fear only made you blind."