Alien General's Bride: SciFi Alien Romance (Brion Brides) (3 page)

“It would seem so,” agent Perkins said, and although Isolde could very well see the sweat beading on his brows, she had to once again admire the man’s courage. There were many warriors in the galaxy, men and women of great strength, who didn’t consider it a shame to run from that name alone.

“We are so fucked,” Isolde sighed. Agent Perkins did not disagree.

And then the lights went out.

Slowly, the globes illuminating
Luna Secunda
’s pristine interior began to dim until it resembled a cloudy evening. It wasn’t dark, but Isolde still found it difficult to look at the Brions whose valor squares suddenly shined very brightly. She could see agent Perkins’ eyes twinkle as well and wondered if he was making peace with the great Go’Ran, the god-entity of the Palians. Isolde had never found any god much to her liking, preferring Buddhist teachings of karma instead, but not taking even those too seriously. So it was peculiar that she found herself praying in that moment, praying to have one more day to her life, even if it wasn’t all that special or great. It was still hers.

Her eyelids shut on instinct, and she heard agent Perkins flinch beside her. She knew before she saw. After all, she had studied all the species she had access to and the ones that belonged to the GU with the most attention.

She forced her eyes to deal with the brightness of the valor squares. If this was to be her last moment, she would at least face it.

The part of her that wanted to give the big bad a last piece of her mind before being killed thought,
Only Brions would be this dramatic. Accessing the station’s systems to turn off the lights to shine brighter...

The smarter parts of her mind quickly buried the thought before a telepath showed up, however unlikely. Every member of the staff and all the guests quickly discovered they had left the oven on or something and made themselves scarce. The reason was clear enough.

There were fish, and bigger fish, and then there was the man walking towards them in a way that made it seem like air itself moved to let him pass.

Isolde forgot her fear of dying in an instant. Suddenly, it seemed oddly trivial. Instead, her knees wanted to buckle very badly and her eyes wanted to stare, even if it meant going blind. And she knew instantly for a fact the higher-ups had been right when they censored the images of Brion men, because this was uncanny. She doubted, though, if any still image could capture the sheer presence of one of the most dangerous men in the galaxy.

Her mind clashed with opposing forces trying to give her a headache.

This was General Diego Grothan – the Terran version of his name, at least – and he was the commander of the
Triumphant
. Also a Terran codename – while the Brion language wasn’t difficult to learn and pronounce, they had an annoying habit of renaming everything as it changed – chosen for the way it operated. There had been a previous name, but after so many reports of “…returns triumphant”, it had become easier to rename the ship that had become synonymous with victory.

He was also the most gorgeous man Isolde had ever seen. Gorgeous in a way that made the other Brions standing at admiring attention by his side seem like nobodies. His form was perfection itself without being comically overdone, his posture warrior-like and his eyes… they were the clearest ocean blue, and Isolde was fast on her way to the bottom of them. The glow around him added to the mystery, reflecting off the glass surfaces of the station and the razor sharp edges of the Brions’
battle spears. 

He was feared for a reason. He and his fellow generals had pushed the Brions from their own system to travel to further stars and made them a force in the galaxy. There were diplomats in their race too, but mostly they found it easier to deal with corpses. After some had tried to resist the
Triumphant
and were left to ruins, others learned the lesson. Isolde had heard Commander Grothan’s flagship had once conquered a planet by sending out their identification code prior to arrival. The gates, so to speak, were flung open by the time the ship actually arrived.

Diego Grothan was the reason the GU still made the Brions jump through political hoops. The Brions were led by their Elders and represented by their ambassadors, but their military was their image and most of the problem. The generals considered themselves a version of judge-jury-and-executioner, Grothan more so than others. The Brions depended on the vast resources of their allies, but Grothan seemed to jeopardize those shaky truces every other week. Where he went, bad things followed. More likely, nothing followed. Some generals let their victims give testimony of their bloodshed, Grothan thought silence enough to speak its own tale.

So while a part of her was too afraid to even look away, another part wanted to know more about the commander. Like how his hands would feel around her waist, and if he was as strong as they said, whether he could pick her up and slam her against the wall of...

A voice like thunder spoke over the rushing in her ears. “Are you the one that summoned me here?”

Agent Perkins made several attempts to form words. The first two were “gaak” and “hghfrm”, which to Isolde’s knowledge as a linguist, didn’t translate to anything in any of the languages she knew. He finally managed a quiet, “Yes.”

Isolde tried to ignore the warmth between her legs, because the commander’s low, thundery voice was doing things to her. Very good things, but she needed her wits about her. She wanted to live, and no alien warlord was going to catch her off guard, even if he had the eyes of a god under those dark, careless strands of hair and... Isolde bit her lip.
There. Better.

“And you, little Palian, want me to take a human aboard my ship and take them to Rhea?” the commander was asking with deadly calm. People whose names were dipped in blood rarely needed to raise their voices, after all.

Agent Perkins struggled for words again. “I was going to make that request, yes, Commander. Before I knew it was you I was asking this from. I did not mean offense. It is just that the mission to Rhea is important...”

“I am aware,” the commander cut him through. “However, I am not a transport ship, and I do not appreciate being summoned like a common
greton
.” Isolde didn’t know the last word, but she figured it couldn’t have been anything good. “I took the time to come here and tell you no in person and ask if you would like to repay this trouble with your blood or your head. I will accept either.”

Isolde found her mouth speaking before her brain caught up.
Bad idea, very bad.

“Please, Commander Grothan, don’t kill him. This is my fault, I missed my ship and he was just trying to help...”

Oh snap. Oh snappity snap.
Now she was under the very direct attention of the man who had just casually referred to someone dying as easily as if he’d asked if they’d like to pay by cash or credit.

Fierce, impossibly blue eyes bore into her. She stood there, shivering without reason, or at least without a good reason. She felt like his gaze was stripping her. Not just the clothes from her body, but stripping her bare with all parts of her cast aside until he came to her soul.

The silence lingered for so long even the other Brions started shifting uncomfortably. Isolde prepared to die. This was just very much like her, to die over a mishap; she really had this one coming, didn’t she...

“Very well,” the commander said at last.

Isolde stared. Agent Perkins stared. The Brions, for all it mattered, stared as well. Even the people around them who had been peeking from behind consoles and decorative plants when the Brion general showed up, were staring in mute shock.

Agent Perkins cleared his throat, an admirable feat from a dead man walking. “If I may, very well what, Commander Grothan?”

The Brions took a miniature step back as their general sent agent Perkins a glare that made him recoil. It didn’t seem like Grothan was used to being questioned, or repeating himself.

“Very well, she can come. And you can keep your life for now. I will forgive your slight this time.”

He then turned on his heel and, with nothing else to say or discuss, walked away without another word. The other Brions stayed, looking like the sky had fallen on their heads but somehow they were still alive.

Agent Perkins, also still alive, shook himself out of his daze.

“Well, er… Miss Fenner. You will be accompanied to Rhea by the
Triumphant
. I believe it goes without saying that you do not need fear someone attacking your ship.”

Isolde took her turn to glare. “And what about someone
on
the ship? You can’t send me with them!”

Haha. Well done, Isolde. Missing a flight – classic you. Hitching a ride with galactic brutes – even more so. Out of the frying pan and into the fire.

“I... really doubt the Commander wishes to discuss this further,” agent Perkins said.

“But I...” Isolde began. Of all the questions desperately searching for answers, one seemed most urgent. “Why?”

Agent Perkins tried to smile for her sake. “I don’t know, Miss Fenner. Perhaps he realized this would be a good way to show the GU that the Brions can work with others.”

“That wasn’t it,” Isolde protested. “Why would he be staring at me like... that then? I think he wants something from me.”

“Yes,” agent Perkins agreed. He sighed and went on, “I am sorry, Miss Fenner. I do not know what changed his mind about you or about me. Although I am grateful, believe me. I do not believe he would hurt you. I will notify my ambassador of this arrangement and trust me, if you do not show up on Rhea, there will be trouble at the council.”

“So very comforting for me,” Isolde said.

“I suppose not,” the agent said, turning to leave. “Farewell, Miss Fenner. Trust that everything will be alright. I wish you luck on Rhea. The galaxy expects much from the planet. I hope you and your team can help us incorporate it into the Union as quickly as possible…”

With that, he left. The Brions had collected themselves and motioned for her to follow. Like in a daze, Isolde went with them. She felt as if people were unfair when they overused the expression “You wouldn’t believe the kind of day I’m having”. She really thought that was a perfect moment to say something along those lines, but there was no one to complain to. So she sent another imaginary letter to her professor:

Dear Professor,

I hope you are well and busy. I myself have hitched a ride with the Brion military and am about to either be a part of an intergalactically important research team – once again, thanks for mentioning this – or an intergalactically important corpse.

Your ever-unlucky student,

Isolde.

She had just signed her ponderings when the Brions took her to a hangar so large she struggled to see where it ended. Almost all of it was filled with a huge and sharp-looking cruiser. That had to be the
Forger
. And if that was the
Forger
, what would the ship that housed this one look like?

You are
so
in trouble
, Isolde thought.
 

CHAPTER THREE

Isolde

Actually the
Triumphant
looked pretty much like the
Forger
, only much, much bigger.

That did the ship no justice. They had to go past Mars to find the huge vessel patiently waiting for its master in the space between the red planet and Jupiter. There, it slowly turned and by the time they came up close Isolde could barely see a fraction of the ship’s real size even when she was looking straight at it.

It was so surreal she nearly forgot she was in space. With aliens. Alien warlords, to be precise, who now had to take her to an apparently very important planet. Isolde, who hadn’t even been on all the continents on Terra, suddenly felt very out of her depth.

At least so far, the Brions had left her alone. She knew the commander must have been on the
Forger
with them, but she had seen none of him and only one of the Brions had remained at her side to, in all likelihood, keep her from wandering around. He didn’t say much, answering and directing her with as many words as one might use to guide a dog.

Isolde stood by the huge screen that made up one whole wall of the room she was in and watched her home world disappearing from an angle she had never even dreamed of seeing it from before the mission to Rhea was announced. The screen was merely a projection, of course, not a real window, which would have been impractical. She also had to admire whatever it was that maintained the artificial gravity and kept the pressure inside the ship at a constant while the
Forger
sped past impossible distances like a race car.

Her expertise being culture and languages, she put it all the in category of tech magic.