Alien General's Beloved: SciFi Alien Romance (Brion Brides) (2 page)

"Many years back, one of them was rumored to have said Raya chose wrong and that Radgen's rage was justified.

"He was a young warrior then, but saying that stuck to him all through his life. No one trusted him, but they couldn't stop him either. The warrior rose through the ranks and became General Worgen."

Lana stopped when her officers suddenly became quiet and she saw Fraly almost jump in his seat, flinching like he was kicked.

"You know of him too. The three gods are a myth and Worgen is a legend. There are no Brion Elders alive today who remember him, but many believe he
did
exist. Some have searched for him after he took his horrible ship
Abysmal
and disappeared. We've all heard of sightings. They have all been false, until now.

"The reports we've received are worrying, but need confirming. We send you this fable as a warning, to remind you what you might be dealing with.

"We can't believe we're saying this, but these are uncertain times.

"Look out for General Worgen. Look out for the
Abysmal
."
 

CHAPTER ONE

Corden

The room was tense with fear.

It wasn't the petrifying, hopeless kind that Corden inspired in his enemies. He was lounging carelessly behind a console in one of the command stations, away from the overall buzz of the bridge. The gigantic central throne was unoccupied, as it usually was. Corden, like most of the Brion generals, disliked waging any war from the safety of his gargantuan warship. He had his captains for that. A few of them were exchanging looks a few feet away from him.

It all took place in complete silence. They thought their quiet, murmured conversation wasn't bothering him, which was correct. They were also under the impression that the general didn't notice them hovering just at the edge of his sight, which was false. Corden saw them perfectly well.

He could also guess the main point of their concern. The general had made it very clear that he didn't want to be disturbed by anything that wasn't urgent.

There hadn't been much peace and quiet in the galaxy lately and Corden intended to read up on all of it. Right then he was very engaged in General Ryden's final report about his recent confrontation with the Clayor hivemind. And his following triumph over it.

No one could have guessed it by looking at him, but Corden was seething with jealousy. Every word made the fury rage within him stronger.

He wasn't jealous of his fellow general's proficiency, nor of the trap Ryden had set. It wasn't in Corden's nature to envy others, even those he begrudgingly considered his equals.

No. The thing Corden dearly regretted was not being given the same opportunity. If he'd been able to match his skills and strength against the Clayor Host... what a battle! Corden gritted his teeth. The next time he saw the other general, he'd have to challenge him to a duel.

Of course, winning a fight against the victor wouldn't be the same as defeating the Host, but it would be an interesting challenge. The general hungered for that victory, even if it was a pale imitation of the one he really would have wanted.

His captains were getting on his nerves. Out of the corner of his eye, Corden saw them whisper, clearly arguing now. They were trying to figure out whether the matter at hand was important enough to bother him with.

Corden turned slowly, making his bridge crew back away from him. The captains hadn't noticed their general's attention yet.

It better be good
, Corden thought with dark amusement.

He'd been trying to figure out whether the presence of General Ryden's
gesha
had helped him win—if the recognizing moment of his fated bride had given Ryden the one final push he needed. That was important to Corden. If that was the case, perhaps he might need to find his own
gesha
.

"Approach," he growled.

The captains were Brion warriors like him, so they didn't
flinch
, but they were caught off guard by their commander's sudden order. Looking uncertain didn't fit them, tall and broad-shouldered like Corden himself, with tan skin and the glowing valor squares beaming on their necks.

"General," Captain Soren began. "We didn't—"

"Yes," Corden cut him off. "I'm aware of that. Too late for that, you have my attention. What is it?"

Something's wrong
, he realized when the answer didn't immediately follow.

"Speak," he ordered.

Soren sighed. "Honestly, General, we don't know what to say. This message is ludicrous, but we can't assume the whole Galactic Union has lost what was left of their minds."

Corden said nothing.

After one more look to others, Soren took a deep breath and said: "There have been sightings of the
Abysmal
."

Fate, are you really that kind?

Corden felt the corners of his lips tug his smile wider. Soren and the other captains watched with confusion as he got up and prowled slowly on the bridge.

"You don't think this is a joke, General?" Soren asked.

"No," Corden said firmly, the treacherous, ravenous smile still on his lips.

This is so much better than I ever could have hoped for.

"But..." Soren began. "It can't be true."

"Why not?" Corden asked, still pacing like he always did when he needed to focus.

"Sir," Soren said, a hint of impatience in his voice. "General Worgen and the
Abysmal
are a legend, a ghost story. Every few years, someone thinks they saw it, but it's never true. Besides, General,
even if
Worgen and his crew were ever real, they have to be dead by now."

Corden stopped and looked over his bridge. "Seems reasonable," he said.

"But you don't think that's the case," Soren finished, frowning.

"No."

The general saw the other's body tensing up, the telltale surge of red on his valor squares. Soren did not appreciate being toyed with, which was fine with Corden.

Crossing his arms behind his back, Corden addressed his crew.

"
Before
," he said in a deep, forceful voice. "The sightings came from fearful cowards who took every shadow for the
Abysmal
and saw nightmares about Worgen coming to unleash his battle rage upon them. There was never any real proof, but that doesn't mean it can't happen. I always thought there would be a day when he returned to us."

"You really think it's him, General?" someone asked. "But Captain Soren is right, sir. He should have been dead ages ago."

"By conventional means, yes," Corden allowed. "There are always ways to prolong your life, you know that. Who is to say he didn't find a way?"

He paused, looking out into the space around his warship, the
Claw
. It was one of the fifteen flagships of the Brion armies, so immense that the ship's own systems sometimes struggled to recognize its parameters. His eyes attempted to pierce the darkness of the empty vastness of space, searching for the enemy. Somewhere out there, could it really be him? If it was true, Corden was intent to have it. Such a treat would not be allowed to slip through his fingers.

If it wasn't another ghost story, it was his duty to find the legend.

"As for the truth," he said quietly, knowing they all heard him, hanging on his every word. "I don't know. It might be him. It might be the
Abysmal
under new command. Ships don't die like we do, after all. All I am sure of is that we have to find out. Set course for the last presumed location. Tell the others to keep away until I investigate this."

The bridge came to life around him and the
Claw
started humming beneath his feet. Corden smirked, seeing his crew fret over his orders. By "others", Corden meant his brother generals, known all over the galaxy as men who didn't like being told to wait. He knew the communication officers would spend a considerable while trying to figure out the best way to phrase "this one's mine".

"Soren," the general called. "Come with me."

They left, heading toward the practice arenas. The captain didn't look surprised in the slightest. It was Corden's way of doing things. Whenever he sensed a new battle ahead, he made sure he was prepared. That meant rigorous training, and extended research. Unlike some other Brion generals, Corden liked to come prepared.

He didn't trust a fool's luck nor even his own considerable strength. All he believed in was his triumph, something he refused to leave to pure chance. He probably knew more than anyone else about the accomplishments of his fellow generals, always studying them, always watching.

"You don't like me, do you, Captain?" he asked calmly.

Soren snapped to attention so quickly he nearly stumbled. His flashing hazel eyes were burning in his face as he stood, the valor squares implanted right into his nervous system blinking confusion.

Corden watched him in silence, took notice of every clue the bright crystals on the other's neck gave him. They were an unparalleled communication system in the galaxy, the only language you couldn't lie in. It was only possible to say nothing.

The crystals were connected to the warrior wearing them, marks of victory and glory. They pulsed light and sound to the outside world when the warrior needed it, alerting nearby enemies and speaking urgent messages to the other Brions.

Every emotion the warrior felt was broadcast to the world, plain to see to everyone who could read it. It was only one of the ways the generals were able to lead thousands of warriors who saw their every weakness—by not having any to show.

Corden watched the captain sweat under his tight scrutiny. He could almost see the thoughts flashing by in Soren's head. The warrior considered whether he'd done something to offend his general. Corden could see Soren's hands aching for the tall battle spear on his back, the signature weapon of their species. The general wore one too..

If the captain drew it, he'd die.

Corden waited with maddening patience until Soren finally, after torturous moments, opened his mouth to say: "No."

That was good. The general had already known as much. It wasn't news to him; very few people liked him. That wasn't what he needed from the captain.

"Do you have plans to challenge me?" Corden asked with the same calm.

Soren looked him straight in the eye, making the general grin. He knew Soren hated him. He was a straight-shooter who often opposed Corden's plans when he didn't understand them.

"No," the captain said, and Corden knew that was the truth as well.

"Why not?" he asked.

It was Soren's turn to grin, the look twisting his features into a grimace.

"You're a bastard, sir," he said, straightening up, ready to accept his punishment. "But you're the finest general the Brions have."

Corden snorted.

"Better than Diego Grothan? Better than the Monster of Briolina?"

"Yes, sir."

"Careful there," Corden said, amused. "They're only a few star systems away. See that they don't hear you."

Soren said nothing and they proceeded to the practice arenas. Despite everything, what the captain had said was the truth as well, in his honest opinion. It was why Corden had decided to trust him with something no one else but him and the Brion Elders knew.

It surprised Soren when he told the captain that.

"Why, sir?" he asked, uncertain.

"Because I might need someone to lead the
Claw
for a while."

He could see the connections lighting up in Soren's head like beacons.

"You mean to go after General Worgen," the captain said. "If it's really him."

"If it's really him, yes," Corden agreed.

They'd reached the arenas, the great halls with mechs and AIs to help the Brion warriors become even better at war than they naturally were. Corden rounded on his captain so quickly the man didn't even get to blink before the tip of the general's spear was at his throat. His eyes were wide, unbelieving. Not afraid.

Good
.

"Haven't you figured it out yet?" Corden asked. "The generals protect Brions from everything that might harm them. Have you never wondered
who protects the Brions from the generals
?"

CHAPTER TWO

Lana

More reports kept coming in, and they got less funny every time.

Lana had consulted with Terra and her ambassadors at the Galactic Union. The answers were as unsettling as they were puzzling.

Instead of getting some good intel, the few pieces of information that reached her were only bad or weird.

The bad news was that there was definitely something going on. A presence—by some accounts one huge ship, by others a small fleet—was attacking ships all over the galaxy. And despite their best attempts, the Union wasn't able to track it down. Or if Lana understood correctly, tracking was less of a problem than receiving reports back.

Every ship sent to find out what was going on disappeared.

A few of them had managed to send out distress calls before they went silent, but the information they relayed was confusing at best. Lana took it as a personal duty to read through all of them, as clipped and fractured as they were, but ended up none the wiser.

Sure, technically it all fit. A huge ship, dark and looming like death itself. It suited the stories of the
Abysmal
well, but the lost Brion battleship wasn't the
only
big vessel in the skies. It proved nothing, but that was no comfort at all. Rumors and fear fueled paranoia more than actual evidence ever could have.

The weird news was that no one could disprove the ghost story. Without actually seeing the person who was behind all of the attacks, it was within the realm of possibility that it was the lost general spreading chaos.

Absolutely fucking unlikely,
Lana thought,
but still possible.

The Union had started assembling armies to bring the person responsible to justice, but the Brions had interfered. It seemed they took the rumors
very
seriously. Their promise to handle whoever was behind the attacks served as a warning as well. If
Brions
thought the threat was real, most of the Union was relived to stay as far away from the conflict as possible.