Alien General's Beloved: SciFi Alien Romance (Brion Brides) (9 page)

The frustration she'd harbored was all pouring out at the fleet which was doing nothing but relying on Worgen's mercy. Lana had seen what that was like.

"Corden," she said then, her voice becoming tender for reasons she couldn't entirely explain. "He knows. He knows who you are—"

A strong hand closed around her arm, pulling her away from the console. She looked up into the cruel, merciless eyes of General Worgen. Lana opened her mouth to say something,
anything
to stop the retribution she knew was coming, but found nothing. She had nothing left to offer. Her value was at an end.

Worgen dragged her to one of the huge wall-mounted screens, showing the space around the
Abysmal
. Before her eyes, gun turrets rolled out of the sides of the warship and took aim at the
Raptor
. Lana watched in mute shock as the fleet made room for the warship, getting out of the way of the guns, so as not to get caught in the fire. So much for courage, then.

"Don't do this," she whispered, knowing it was futile. "I will—"

"That's the thing with liars," Worgen said without pity. "You only get one lie. I warned you what would happen to those who betray me."

And like in a dream, the
Abysmal
opened fire. Lana thought she screamed. All she knew was that her eyes watched, unblinking, as the
Raptor
was blown into oblivion.
 

CHAPTER EIGHT

Corden

He'd taken her. Worgen had taken his
gesha
.

Corden felt like he was watching his own experiences happen to someone else. It certainly couldn't be him, so unhinged by that seemingly simple event. Only there was nothing easy about a
gerion
being separated from his fated. Especially if she was in danger. He'd tear down any obstacle in his way to get her back, to get her into his arms where she belonged.

Of all the things, Corden hadn't expected that. To find his other half in a place like this, right in the middle of the most important mission of his life. Ironically, he got the result Worgen was looking for. It was the other general who had wanted to find his bride, to have the connection to her push him to greater heights.

Now it would be used against him. Corden had only one task ahead now, like before, but now Lana was at stake too and that made everything so much... better. And worse, at the same time.

Every account he'd ever read about the bindings and finding the fated started with the simple truth that the feeling was impossible to describe. Finally, Corden could assure himself that it had been correct. Merely Lana's name made his heart beat faster, clearing his mind. Even colors and shapes seemed sharper, more real to him. It felt like before her, he'd lived in a world half-hidden in shadows.

And she was gone. Taken.

Theories rushed through Corden's mind. His brief meeting with Worgen had given him much, but it wasn't enough to be sure. Still, most of them seemed to point in one direction. He needed to get off the ship and so did everyone else. The
Raptor
had just lost its value to Worgen.

His own fighter stood ready in the same bay, but Corden wasn't going to leave Lana's crew to die helplessly. The general walked over to the command center of the bay and opened a comm link to the entire ship.

"Everyone is to gather in the port-side bay immediately.
No exceptions
."

He let the authority of a general's voice seep into the message, knowing the crew would obey, as well as the Brions patrolling the ship. One was driven by fear, the other by obedience.

The first to arrive was a Palian, freezing when he saw Corden. Uncertainty was plain on his face, but Corden had no time for long explanations.

"I'm a friend of your captain," he said. "Name?"

"F-Fraly," the man murmured. "A friend?"

"Yes," the general replied. "Very soon two things are going to happen. Your crew members are going to get here. They need to board any vessel that is space-capable and
leave
. No questions, no nothing. Tell them to head for the nearest ship. And
not to run
! If they go for the ships, they might live. If they try to flee, they'll most certainly die. Tell the escape pods hidden on your exterior to go too."

The Palian's already-big eyes went even wider.

"How did you—"

"Doesn't matter how I know. Everyone needs to be off this ship as soon as possible. Is that clear?"

"Yes, but—"

"No time. The other thing. The Brions will be here too. Keep the crew away from them. And stay out of my way."

"What do you mean?" Fraly asked, but Corden didn't get to answer.

The first Brion patrol entered the bay and immediately drew their spears. Corden hadn't thought he looked that different to them, but there was something that gave him away. One look was all they needed to know he wasn't one of them.

Four warriors charged him, paying the Palian no heed. Corden was grateful for that, because the warrior pride that didn't allow for Brions to stop for easy prey when they had a real match. At least that much hadn't changed in the ages that separated them.

Behind them, more people entered. The crew backed away from the fighting warriors instinctively, which was good. And the Brions all joined the fight, which was also right as he'd hoped.

He was better than all of them, but they had numbers on their side and more experience between them than Corden could gather in his entire life. He was like wind between a wall of blades, slipping through openings that were barely there.

With grim silence, the warriors around him kept coming, their spears cutting gashes on his arms and legs, while he cut off theirs. The eerie, unnatural silence of their valor squares only accentuated the pulsing, ferocious red glow of his.

Corden had considered keeping Worgen's spear as well, but found the other weapon to be unnatural in his hands. It had probably been custom-built for the dark general, ill-fitting in his grip. He'd cast it away instead, feeling like the gesture was much more of an insult than using it in battle.

The Palian seemed to be doing a fine job with getting the crew moving. It looked like they needed little persuasion to leave the carnage in the bay. Dead warriors lay before Corden's feet, but more came. He kept moving, trying to stay between the Brions and the crew boarding the smaller vessels. Most were nothing more than cargo containers, but they could fly the distance needed. His own fighter stayed untouched, as did the other Brion ships.

He'd almost finished with them when another fighter arrived and a fresh unit emerged from it. These new ones were different, he could tell that immediately. All of Worgen's men he'd encountered thus far had been almost empty inside, but the new unit seemed more alive. The valor squares on their necks were dim, but not dead. They moved quicker, better, more in sync with each other. An elite force?

It didn't matter. They were in his way as much as the others had been, still a threat.

Only even Corden had to admit that the warriors were testing him. Alone against any of them it would have been nothing, but ten of them were pushing his limits much like Worgen had before. Instead of fearing for his life, Corden was thrilled. None of his own men could have given him the fight he was in the middle of, not even the other generals.

These were men who had walked the galaxy for a hundred years. The way they fought was a reflection of that. Efficient, brutal, aiming to kill like the man who commanded their loyalty. But unlike Worgen, there was a hint of tiredness in them. Not physical—their speed was greater than any Corden had met in regular warriors.

The way they moved spoke of being tired of
fighting
. Corden knew it happened to older warriors sometimes. After seeing more than a lifetime's worth of blood and war and duels, it lost its charm even for the most bloodthirsty monster. And the men he was killing almost seemed bored with it, although that didn't mean they gave him any quarter.

And Corden found out what it might have meant to fight himself. In the madly crashing mayhem of a fight, he nearly fell when he jumped out of the range of a warrior, only to nearly stumble into the spear of another. The blade had been exactly where he'd meant to land and Corden had to change his direction mid-air, stumbling away.

The bastards were
studying
him. They saw what he was doing and they were compensating for their mistakes. Despite himself, Corden was impressed. All the Brion generals did that, but for mere warriors it usually took much longer to analyze the battles.

Corden grinned, pleased, until he remembered the imminent danger they were all in. He wondered if the warriors knew that, or if they cared. In fact, he was pretty surprised Worgen hadn't destroyed the
Raptor
already. Could it have been Lana? Had she done something to save her ship? Images flashed before his eyes and a feral roar echoed through the bay. If Worgen laid even a finger on Lana, he wouldn't die quickly.

The bay around them was almost empty. Corden didn't know what the situation was out there, whether the crew made it or were blown to pieces. Whether the fleet was willing to risk letting them in. He saw only Fraly standing farther away, waiting for him.

Corden had questions for him, but they were the kind he could ask any Palian.

"Go!" he yelled.

His cry finally made the warriors around him notice that they were oddly alone. Or else there was something else. All of them retreated away from him, standing on guard. Corden knew the telltale signs of a comm message when he saw it. He couldn't hear what the general said, but it was clear to see. Instead of calling his men away, Worgen ordered them to kill him.

It wasn't the Brion way, to delegate battles like that to subordinates, but Worgen wasn't a true Brion either. Corden would have rather died than sent one of his warriors to fight his worthy enemy in his stead, but it was becoming increasingly clear to him that Worgen didn't think that way. All he cared about was the victory and even wounding Corden probably counted.

He wondered if the general had already figured out who he was.

It was only him and the warriors now.

There were seven of them left, standing in a loose circle around him. It was instantly clear it was a battle formation of some kind, but one he didn't know.

As one, the seven spears clashed together in a thundering clang right where his chest should have been. Corden dodged, sweeping a wide arc under the roof of blades. One of the warriors who had been careless enough to stand too close lost his legs for that. The man collapsed, but not one scream escaped his lips. Corden moved to end his torment, but one of his own companions beat him to it. Without taking his eyes off Corden, the warrior cut his wounded brother's throat and resumed his place in the circle around him.

That
was a piece of information to be filed away as well. It wasn't uncommon for Brions to deal out mercy kills, but not like that. There was a haunting heartlessness to it, as if the wounded man had no value anymore.

Everything is measured
, Corden thought.

The other six approached him, more careful now. They wouldn't try the same trick with him again, although Corden was ready to admit his reflexes had saved him. A slower man would have died, pierced by seven blades.

The next tried to come at him from behind, which was another thing Brions never did. They were a proud race, seeing no honor in a cowardly kill. And Worgen spoke of restoring the Brions to their glory.

Corden caught the blow, sliding his spear under his attacker's, twisting it out of his hands. The spear fell, but his owner's head hit the floor right after. The other five didn't even blink. Everything about them was unnatural to Corden. Brions wouldn't stop in the middle of a battle to grieve, but they certainly noticed one of their own dying. The cold warriors merely compensated for the absence of the fallen.

The next two tried the old trick of giving him too much to handle at the same time, but Corden saw it coming. He parried one strike, and dodged the other. One kick to the kneecap made one of the men stumble. Corden didn't take the easy kill, knowing the other was right behind him, ready to use his distraction.

He rounded in a flash, stabbing his spear right through his attacker's stomach. Putting his mass behind the spear, Corden swung his spear with the warrior still stuck to it. He sent him flying into his companion, guts spilling all across the floor. The warrior he trapped under his dying body was dead in the next second, his throat cut by Corden's swift strike.

That left only two, which was one too many.

Corden observed them both, approaching him warily. One had only the haunting emptiness in his eyes, but the other showed miniature signs of the rage that burned in the heart of every Brion. The years they'd spent in the dark space had dimmed that, but apparently it was still there. Corden decided that the one with some spirit left was a better option. Any sign of life was also a sign of wanting to keep living.

He charged the other, using his momentum to push the other off balance. The warrior caught his blow with his spear and the last one came to his aid, but it was too late. Corden was faster than both of them, pulling his spear free and cutting the warrior almost in two before rounding on the last one. Behind him, the general heard the corpse hit the floor.

Some hate at last
, Corden thought, seeing the eyes of the final remaining warrior.

"This is Captain Lana Cormac," the voice sounded from the speakers.

Corden was so pleased to hear her voice again that he had to take a step back to avoid the blade coming to cut him in half. Lana paused, while he kicked the feet out from under the last warrior, cutting the hand holding the spear clean off. No scream.

Lana started talking again and it was clear to Corden that the
Raptor
was living its last moments. He twirled the spear around in his hand, knocking the warrior cradling his maimed arm unconscious. The general hoisted him across his shoulder and walked to one of the
Abysmal
's fighters. As he'd thought, the doors slid open and the control panels came to life with a genetic signature.