Alien General's Beloved: SciFi Alien Romance (Brion Brides) (22 page)

"I will handle them," he said. "After all, this ship isn't a safe place for them."

It wasn't often that Palians looked angered or anything else resembling cruelty, but that made Yarel smile.

"You led that unit to the Torons. And they killed the Brions."

"They helped."

From there, Corden told him as much about his plan as he needed to. Having allies was necessary, but he thought it better to only tell the Palian what concerned him. Besides, the general was trusting him with the most important task. Before he let Yarel leave with his new instructions, Corden stopped him.

"You understand," he said, allowing his voice to drop to a low growl. "Nothing can hurt Lana. Tell her only what she needs to know. And no matter what,
don't leave her alone with him
."

***

Trusting a whole part of his plan to another felt fundamentally wrong to Corden, but he had no other choice. Someone who could be seen and heard had to organize things on that end. And if you couldn't trust a Palian, who then? He was certain Yarel wouldn't betray him on purpose, but it was another matter entirely if he'd pull off the tasks Corden had entrusted to him.

But there was no other way. The general had considered the situation from every angle and come to the conclusion that he needed time. He had to signal the
Claw
and call his flagship to him. No matter what happened to the
Levi
, it was clear the fleet was in danger and any protection he could offer was good.

What he'd told Yarel had been the truth. He couldn't kill Worgen aboard the
Flora
or there would be no knowing what the
Abysmal
would do when it heard about the general's death. He could hope that the vessel would be thrown into disarray by the fighting to see who would succeed Worgen, but that was a fool's hope and Corden didn't want to rely on that.

Getting rid of Worgen's actual crew was a close second best. If he had no more warriors, ultimately he had nothing. Even the mightiest general needed an actual army to call himself that. The creatures Corden had been fighting were nothing of the sort. Only those Worgen had sent to kill him on the
Raptor
had been able to put up a decent fight. He grinned, thinking how important it had to have been for Worgen to kill him if he didn't spare his best.

Corden found the Torons easily enough.

They recognized him, it seemed. In the case of the great beasts, it meant seeing him and then pointedly ignoring his presence. If he'd been an unwelcome entity, they would have attacked already.

"I heard the Brions killed some of you," he said.

Lana had told him that, but it was nothing but a confirmation for Corden. After Worgen had received news of the dead warriors, there was no other possible outcome. The Brion units had hunted Torons all over the carrier in revenge. The beasts could hide quite well, but a few of them had been found.

Corden definitely had their attention now. One by one, they rose to stare down at him. It was a new experience for Corden, who had been the tallest person in the room for most of his life. Torons were giants, however.

"They did," said one of the Torons.

With them, Corden had found, it was impossible to tell if you were actually speaking to the leader or just the one who felt like talking to
you
.

The general could have said he was sorry, but he was not and neither were they. If he hadn't led the particular unit to the Toron quarters, the beasts would have found the Brions eventually.

What he said was: "I offer you revenge."

He'd said that in the Toron language. The beasts inclined their big heads, looking at him, as if trying to sense his true meaning, the value of his spirit.

"We accept," several thundering voices said then, speaking over each other.

The huge furry wall of bodies around him mumbled approvingly, sounding like wind blowing through a deep forest. The Torons were in agreement. That was good.

He explained the plan to them, as simple as it was. Any Brion they could find, they would kill. Corden wanted to empty Worgen's reserves, to lure the other general out with his best. To leave only the incapable on the
Abysmal
. All in preparation of eventually taking the warship.

It would make a nice addition to the Brion armies, Corden thought. He could imagine parading it above Briolina, the long-lost treasure of their kind. After all, it wasn't the ship itself that needed purging, only its master.

He didn't know if he should warn the Torons that they might be hunted down with even greater vigor for ading with him. Eventually he settled for saying:

"More of you might die."

"We accept," said the Torons.

***

After the trip to his fighter to call the
Claw
closer, Corden hunted too.

He hadn't done it in a while and found it to be as challenging as he remembered. During warrior training, with no one else to practice with, it was natural for Brions to hunt other Brions. They didn't kill, only humiliated those who got caught, but this was different.

Corden hunted the ship, looking for any originals he might find. He took down a few clones too, but with every one he killed, it felt more and more wrong because it was too easy. Corden was grateful to leave that nasty task to the Torons. He took no pleasure in killing those who clearly had no way of matching him.

The originals—that's how he'd taken to calling the original members of Worgen's crew—were harder to find. In fact, after a while it started to look like there were none at all, until he found one.

It was him. The man Corden had already killed twice. It had to be fate, there was no other explanation.

He dropped down from the ceiling on top of the warrior. Unlike others who had lost their grip on their spears, this one caught Corden's strike that was about to kill him. The general pressed down, not hurrying as he should have, too interested in the process. It was a rare occurrence, after all. He hoped that it would be his last time fighting someone to the death three times.

Corden was so merciful he allowed the other warrior to stand, but not before slashing a clear cut through his comm link. Since it was embedded into the device on his wrist, it took a good chunk of flesh with it.

The warrior cried out. Even his valor squares flashed a bit, the hint of red hanging in the air. Not completely gone, then.

"Your name," Corden ordered, knowing he shouldn't stall.

They were in an empty hallway, but it wouldn't be like that forever. It wasn't a shut-off part of the ship or some unused hangar, merely the spot where Corden had found the man patrolling. Yet he couldn't stop his curiosity from demanding that he take his time with this one. Somehow, he felt as if he owed it to the man, after being his killer twice already.

It must have been instinct that made the man answer his question, Corden’s authoritative voice commanding attention even in times like these.

"Prelen," the warrior said before glaring at Corden, his eyes reflecting the anger he felt.

The general circled him, keeping the man clearly in sights while checking both ends of the hallway. He held the spear in his hands languidly, seemingly at ease, noting with a pleased smile how the warrior didn't take the bait. Prelen followed him step for step, crouched, spear held at the ready before him.

"Tell me," Corden said. "Do you know that I've already killed you?"

"We don't have the Palian techniques yet," the warrior answered, still irritated that the general's tone made him reply.

"I didn't mean like that. Don't you keep track of what happens to your copies?"

"No. They are not me."

Interesting.

"Answer me one thing before I see you die once more."

The warrior bared his teeth at him in a snarl. "I don't have to say anything to you."

"And yet you keep doing so. Tell me, how does it make you feel to know that there are copies of you walking around right now?"

"I don't care," Prelen said, before realizing he'd responded again.

He dashed forward, but Corden blocked him easily, sending the man crashing into the wall. Watching him slump down, avoiding the wide arc of his spear, Corden carried on.

"Really? I would. There are men out there, looking like you, trying to fight like you. They wear the same valor squares because your general seems to think it resembles you. So they bear marks of glories they never won, enemies they never beat, victories that aren't theirs."

It was working. The flash of red he'd seen before was now a growing flame of fury, repressed anger surging to the surface. The warrior was trying to fight the feeling, clearly. It was admirable, but ultimately doomed to fail. Corden knew better. The man he was talking to was a Brion, and no warrior he had ever met could have tolerated seeing someone else wear their marks of honor.

He'd been wondering how Worgen had convinced his men it was anywhere within the realm of reason, let alone that it was okay.

"The general ordered this," Prelen said. "This is right."

"All you've said is that
he
wants it. I asked what you thought about it."

Prelen seemed to remember he wasn't supposed to talk to him and stubbornly shut up. He attacked from a low crouch, forcing Corden to block instead of answering. The general locked their spears together, forcing the tips of the blades to the ground and keeping them there. Prelen was now shoulder-to-shoulder with him, trying to pull his weapon free without letting go. Corden let go of his own spear with one hand, only to deliver a nasty blow to the warrior's nose with his elbow.

Prelen stumbled back, the valor squares on his neck dimming again as he regained control. Corden didn't care; he'd already gotten what he wanted. The originals hated their clones, that much was obvious, and predictable. Corden was dying to know what Worgen had told them to make real warriors agree to something so against everything they believed in.

Their little light show was starting to draw attention. Corden could hear footsteps approaching, wondering who was careless enough to approach a clear fight.

It meant he had to finish Prelen off quickly. A part of him felt sorry about that. The warrior had become familiar to him in an odd way. That didn't stop him from blocking the blow of his spear, striking back a wide blow, forcing Prelen to jump back to avoid getting cut in two.

The warrior held up surprisingly well, parrying some of his blows, but he was bleeding after a few seconds—a lifetime for a Brion warrior. Corden gave him one last look before dashing forward, sliding past Prelen, his spear cutting through the air to slice the warrior's tendons.

His opponent slumped to the ground with a grunt of pain. From there, they both knew it was over. The general had to give Prelen credit for not giving up, though. The warrior attempted to strike back, but fighting sitting down was impossible. Corden barely noticed twisting the spear out of the man's hands. It clattered to the floor a little distance from them, and then his own spear was at the warrior's throat.

"Go ahead," Prelen snarled. "Make it quick."

"I will," Corden promised.

Prelen had been a disappointment to him. He was nothing more than an average warrior, but he'd fought until the end and that deserved a swift death.

"No last words?" Corden asked, swinging the spear.

Prelen said nothing, only glared at him with hate as the blade cut down. The silence descended, heavy with the lack of words. Corden felt almost sad, although he'd known there was no reason to expect the dying words from an original.

Right then, somebody rounded the corner. It was one of the Palian scientists. Corden realized that the hallway was near the Palian lab. The general cursed himself for being too preoccupied with the dying warrior to so carelessly allow someone to walk in on them.

He considered killing the man, but the Palian's absence would be noted and it might cause Lana trouble. Corden approached the cowering man who didn't seem to be able to even beg, much less run.

A coward
, he thought,
the worst that could happen.

"One word about me," he said, low and menacing, "and I will tear your tongue out of your mouth myself. Do you understand?"

The scientist nodded in a hurry, running away as soon as Corden allowed him to. The general returned to the captain's quarters, alerting the Torons about the body he needed to disappear.

Lana was still sleeping, blissfully unaware of the world around her. Corden dearly wished he could keep her looking like that, happy and carefree, after she woke up, but that was not going to happen. He gathered her into his arms again and waited for her to return to cruel reality.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Lana

Lana woke in a sweet and loving embrace, a luxury she hadn't realized she'd been missing. With a smile, she cuddled nearer to Corden, feeling him wrap his arms more tightly around her with a chuckle.

"How long was I out?" she asked sleepily, wanting to keep the happy bubble around her. But reality was returning to her anyway, whether she wanted it to or not. A part of Lana wanted to hold onto that illusion of peace, but she needed to be more informed.

"That depends," said a deep voice against her ear. "Are you rested?"

"I am," Lana admitted.

"Then just about enough."

She laughed, idly tracing her fingers over the general's body. It took her almost a minute of doing that without thinking before she realized he was dressed.

"You were gone for a while," she said, sitting up. "Did something happen? Is Worgen here? What did I miss—"

"Relax," Corden said, smiling. "He is on the
Abysmal
. Everything is all right."

That is definitely a lie, but I could almost believe it when you say it.

For some reason, that brought reality crashing back down upon Lana. She'd been very content waking up next to a gorgeous man, who was unfortunately no longer naked, but still. In one heartbeat, all Lana could think about was that she was looking at her
gerion
.