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

None of that seemed to matter when even a fraction of a second of distraction could have cost him his life and every mistake either of them made left them bleeding. A lucky blow Ryden didn't dodge quickly enough cut a red line across his throat, making the captain stagger back. In the next, he caught the general's spear with his own, locking them together.

It signaled that playtime was over, the initial warm-up done. Ryden allowed Hagen one moment to realize his strength was greater and then pulled the weapons apart before Hagen could even blink, showing he had speed on his side too. It went quickly after that.

Both of their attacks lost their controlled restraint as the fight became one of life or death. Ryden saw his opportunity when one of Hagen's blows went too wide. He dodged, feeling the razor-sharp blade cut thin air above his head, and slammed the butt of his spear into the general's face in the next heartbeat.

A warrior as experienced as Hagen resisted the terrible pain of having his nose broken and half his face slammed in and didn't raise a hand to his face, but he
did
stagger. Ryden crouched, and a devastating blow so fast he heard the spectators gasp in surprise knocked the general's feet from under him. Hagen hadn't even touched the ground before Ryden was up and his spear was lodged right in the general's heart.

Hagen kept his rank for another short, raspy last breath while Ryden stood over him, victorious. Then the valor squares on the commander's neck went out and the arena exploded in a deafening, praising roar.

Ryden raised his gaze from his fallen leader to the warriors who now belonged to him. While the congratulations rained on him, the former captain couldn't stop wondering which of them would be the one to kill
him
when the time came.

He was a general now.

CHAPTER TWO

Aria

 

Ambassador Aria Harris badly wanted to punch something. Hard. Throwing something expensive, irreplaceable, and preferably made of glass would have suited as well.

She firmly put it down to Ilotra being populated by politicians, but there were surprisingly few ways to
vent
there. Aria thought it was a massive oversight. The moon was the center of the Galactic Union, the place where literally every important decision was made. In her opinion, it desperately needed some rooms for recreational violence.

In the end, she had to bite her tongue not to scream at Sota. Her apparent
boss
, despite the fact they were both ambassadors of Terra.

"With all due respect," she said, gritting her teeth. "I was not informed this job had a
trial period
."

The man smiled at her, the same grin politicians reserved for dealing with people they thought were beneath them. He was shorter than her, of Japanese origin, and his calmness was getting on her nerves. At least he could have had the decency to understand he was pissing her off. Aria frowned.

"Don't worry," Sota said. "This is a mere formality, Aria."

"I've done formalities already," she answered coldly. "This is the Galactic Union. It is not a start-up job, you know. I have a doctorate in physics and engineering, and I came here to do a
real job
. To advise the council, put my expertise to work, maybe even design some new features for Ilotra. I took this position with joy because I thought I'd get to do some good, but now I hear you're going to babysit me like this is some freaking office on Terra."

Sota listened to her with all the patience and none of the attention, she noticed.

"Yes, I understand," he said. "I—"

"If you say 'I understand your frustration' I'm going to hurt you."

Aria had expected the man to scold her and had been ready to accept her punishment. What else could they do to her, anyway? Ground her in her quarters?

But instead, Sota grinned, only a little.

"I was," he admitted. "And I mean it. They did the same thing to me and I felt the same, I assure you. The council merely wants you to spend a while learning the way we work before you get the full rights to vote."

"It's bullshit," Aria said.

Sota laughed this time. "I suppose it is. Don't say that in front of the other ambassadors, though."

"Why not? If they insist on treating me like a child, I'll give back as good as I get."

Sota gave her a hard look and after a deep breath, Aria calmed herself down.

"You're better than this," Sota said with a hint of reprimand. "Better than most of
them
too."

"Sorry," she finally said. "I just really hoped I'd
escape
all the bureaucratic crap on Terra here."

"Sweet girl," Sota said, and though the word was grating to her ears, his notions were sincere. "You were terribly wrong. This is the Galactic Union. It
is
bureaucracy. Only everything is so much bigger and so much more important. That's why they want you to observe first. So you'd learn the rules before you start playing. But your time will come, have no concern about that. Don't start any wars in your first year and you'll be fine."

Aria allowed herself to smile a little.

That was the first time she had a fight with Sota.

 

***

 

It signaled the start of the seventy-eighth fight when the other ambassador came to tell her that peace was over, half a year later.

"You say that like it's a non-renewable resource," Aria joked. "We're out of peace and we can't make more."

Seeing Sota's face, she realized it wasn't a laughing matter. She rose from behind her drawing desk, instantly serious.

"What happened?" she asked.

Sota looked pale, his features clouded with concern.

"The Clayors have left their system and are moving on the Union's worlds everywhere," he said. "They've declared open war on us."

Aria breathed out, straightening herself and nodded solemnly. "We expected them to do that, didn't we? I spoke to the Palians only a few days ago, they informed me the border patrols around the hive planets are reporting activity."

"Yes," Sota agreed. "The aggression itself isn't a surprise."

"What is then?" Aria asked.

The man glared, but the frustration wasn't aimed at her.

"The
numbers
. Either Palians can't count, which is unlikely, or those bastards somehow tricked us. They're everywhere, Aria. We estimated the might of their armies to be well within the limits of our capabilities. It turns out we're ridiculously outmatched."

"What do they even
want
?" Aria asked, looking over her small replica of the Union's domain. "They have worlds to spare."

"We're not sure," Sota admitted. "Slaves, possibly. Our harvest worlds. To destroy us and rule free. Who knows? They haven't given any demands yet."

"So what did the council decide?" Aria asked, with no small amount of bitterness.

She was still feeling very sore at not being allowed to the council's main sessions. They let her participate in smaller councils, more to do with her field of expertise—which was great—but her pride was wounded. She couldn't wait for the trial period to be over and done with, but at this rate there would be no Galactic Union to work for when the time came.

"You're not going to like this," Sota said. "So I warn you in advance, this is not negotiable."

That says it all. Damn those fools!

"You called them," she stated simply.

"We had no other choice," Sota said, restlessly pacing around the room, his hands clasped behind his back like he was prone to do when upset. "Brions are the only ones with firepower to match the Clayors. And they
want
to do this. War is what they do. I don't think we could hold them back if we tried. What is wrong with them finally being useful? Defending the Union borders? It's why we allowed them in the Union in the first place."

Something dark snapped to attention in Aria. She didn't like the Brions. They were a militaristic, bloody species with a temper to match. Recently they showed willingness to purge their reputation, but they had yet to win her trust. That did
not
mean she agreed with Sota.

The Union was created for the purpose of uniting all the species in the known universe under one leadership, so they could all benefit from it. Everyone was to be treated equally as a member, like all the rest.

Sota implying that Brions were taken into the fold merely for the purpose of protection clawed on her sense of justice. As much as she distrusted them, Aria refused to see a whole species as cannon fodder for times when the Union found itself in trouble.

"They're untrustworthy," she finally said, but in her heart Aria knew there was little point in arguing.

"We'll hold them to their word," Sota said. "This is their chance to prove they've learned from the past."

That was also true.

"Very well," Aria said, turning away. "Let them do as they wish. But I don't want anything to do with them."

"That is not possible, I'm afraid," Sota said.

What?

"The council has chosen you as our representative," the other ambassador went on to explain. "
Before you yell at me
, we have reasons. You speak Brionese. You have knowledge of Ilotra and its defenses—you even helped design a few.

"
And
, if I might add, we need a person who won't back down from confrontation, and I know you won't. We really think you could be of great help to the general."

No. Just, no.

"A general," Aria said finally.

"Yes," Sota sighed. "We asked the Brions to send us an adviser. They seem to think Ilotra itself will come under attack, so they dispatched one of their generals."

"And you want me to talk to him. Aid him."

"Basically, yes. And keep an eye on him. As you said, we can't trust them."

"He's a
Brion
. If I disagree with him, he'll bite my head off," Aria protested, her insides twisting.

"I sincerely doubt that."

"
Comforting
."

"I mean it," Sota said, a little sharply. "They are barbaric, but they have a code. Brions take pride in hard-fought victories. That's why they're almost glad for this. No offense, but I don't think any of them want your head in their trophy room."

"They have trophy rooms."

"Yes, they're a big part of their—"

"I know what they are, Sota," Aria said tiredly. "I was saying that as a general comment about why this whole thing is such a colossally bad idea."

The other ambassador nodded, giving her a thin smile.

"Amusing, as always. But we are in a bad place. Do as we ask of you, Aria, and when this is all done, we'll welcome you into our fold properly with open arms. Do this and we'll grant you the rights of a full-fledged ambassador."

CHAPTER THREE

Ryden

 

The voices fell silent as he approached.

Ryden was not surprised in the slightest. In fact, it was the only pleasing thing about the whole affair. At
least
the bastards had the grace and wit to be scared out of their minds of him. That was good. It would save him the trouble of explaining later when he was standing over their useless, bloodless corpses.

He hadn't fought so hard to get to where he was so they could undo it all in one moment. 

The task they were appointing to him was not what he'd had in mind for his first act as a general. It needed to be something flashy and glorious instead of what they wanted him to do. The senators thought he would simply roll over and obey because he was young, and in their minds that meant untested.

Ryden scowled. They should have known better, the High Senator at least. Eleya had been a general. After three duels to the death, she surely remembered that in the ranks of the Brion armies, no one got promoted. They
took
the position they wanted or paid for their mistake with their lives.

No officer in the armies was untested. It meant...

He felt the corners of his lips twitch upward when he marched past the bodyguards.

Not as stupid as I thought
.

Apparently the senators
did
guess that his mood would be sour when he came to accept his new assignment.

Only it wasn't an assignment. It was exile, no matter the words they used to distract from the true purpose.

Rows upon rows of armed-to-the-teeth bodyguards surrounded the great meeting hall where the senators gathered. Ryden didn't spare any of them a look, but they definitely kept an eye on him.

His feelings toward them were complicated. They were Brions like him, the greatest warriors ever born in the galaxy. The valor squares on their necks, pulsing threateningly when he approached, showed that quite a few were accomplished fighters.

It made no difference to him. All it meant was that they could maybe go a few rounds with him before their inevitable defeat.

When he stepped into the meeting hall, all noise ceased completely. All eyes were on him.

General Ryden had assumed his rank
very
recently. He'd barely finished receiving congratulations when the message from the senators had called him down to the surface of Briolina.

His hands were matted with dried blood. The huge battle spear mounted across his broad back was still colored crimson with it, an idle drop rolling down the blade. When it hit the floor, Ryden was sure every single man and woman in the room heard it. General Hagen had put up a fight after all.

 

He must have been quite a sight to see. After several moments, not even High Senator Eleya had said a word to break the tense silence. He saw his image on the holoprojectors, broadcasting the meeting to senators who were attending from somewhere else on Briolina, stony-faced and silent as they were.

The man standing in the doorway looked threatening, as he should. The general observed the gathered senators from under dark, pitch-black strands of hair falling over his flashing green eyes. He was watching his holo-twin do the same, breathing heavily, still worn from the fight. Wide, powerful shoulders hunched, broad chest heaving, dressed in a captain's uniform that he'd never put on again. Even so, he towered over everyone in the hall, a warrior born and raised.