The Alorian Wars Box Set

by Drew Avera

  “I’m just saying, I made a mistake in thinking Pedero was blowing smoke up my ass about restocking our supplies. I never would have sought a more peaceful means of resolving this conflict had I known she would provide enough firepower to wipe out an army. I’m pretty sure I can take out two with as much ammunition as she’s provided. I can confidently say the resistance will not be a threat to us now.”

  Mussa scoffed at Brendle’s words, not taking the time to even look in his direction. “Yeah, well, isn’t it too bad you went and turned bitch on her? Now, we have to seize your ship and put you three in the dirt. I suppose I should thank you, but considering how much I hate flying, I’ll show my gratitude by missing the kill shot the first few times and hitting you in your extremities. No need to let you die quickly after turning your back on your people.” Mussa stopped pacing and glared at Brendle, his eyes a sinister stare.

  The only people I turned my back on was my crew and I’m never making that mistake again.

  From the corner of his eye, Brendle watched Deis lean forward, getting his feet under him. “My people worshiped the dirt because it provided the means to sustain us,” Deis said, his voice calm.

  “Is that right?” Mussa asked. “Maybe you want to volunteer as the first one I take out? Keep talking and see what happens.”

  Deis smirked, “Thank you for the suggestion.” He flung his hands upward, sending the chain now disconnected from the pad-eye hurtling towards the guard’s face, striking him between the eyes. Deis planted his feet and whipped the chain back towards him, letting it fall slack at his feet before continuing his attack.

  Mussa shouted in pain as he doubled over, dropping his gun in the process, the stock of it clattering on the steel deck away from Brendle and Malikea. Brendle watched as Deis charged him, swinging the chain over his head like a lasso and sending it around Mussa’s head, the chain wrapping around it a few times before Deis yanked it downward, snapping Mussa’s neck as he was brought down like a tree. The dead thud of his head on the deck let Brendle know the man wasn’t walking off the Replicade.

  Behind him, Lere caught on to what was happening and brought his weapon up to fire. Brendle looked on helplessly as the man took aim. His eyes glued to his target.

  “Deis, watch out!” Brendle screamed.

  The next thing he heard was shots fired and the sickening sound of a body striking the deck.

  34

  Ilium

  Ilium found her curled up in his bed, the lights dim as she slept soundly. He didn’t know how long she tried to stay awake for him, but neither would she have known that Headquarters responded to the message she sent on his behalf. It was the main reason for his trepidation, but just as quickly as it came, it was over.

  He closed the door gently and pulled off his uniform top as he crept closer to the bed, not wanting to disturb her. Under the glow of the red overhead light she looked at peace and he watched her sleep for a moment, the gentle rise and fall of her chest in time with her breathing. It was impossible for him to deny how he felt for her. It was equally impossible for him to give it up now that they both wanted to pursue a relationship. Part of him felt he gave up one dangerous path for the other, but he knew this was the one that would make him happiest.

  What was power with no one to share it with?

  Ilium slid his boots off and dropped his pants before reclining back on the mattress designed for one. As he pulled the blanket over himself, she stirred.

  “What took you so long?” Stavis asked, her voice slurred by sleepiness.

  He hesitated to tell her, not wanting to disturb the moment he wanted to share, but he could hardly contain himself. “I received a message back from Headquarters. They reviewed the video you sent.”

  Stavis sat up in the bed, the expression on her face fighting back the tiredness he knew coursed through her body. “What did they say?”

  Ilium rolled over to face her. “You didn’t send them the video I made explaining the situation. Why?”

  Stavis bit her lip and looked towards the ceiling. “What do you mean?”

  “Don’t lie about it, I know you sent your own video message,” he said. “When the Admiral made no mention of my past, I decided to look at the send history from my account. Your brief was sent, not mine.”

  Stavis brushed a tuft of hair out of her face and looked at him. “Look, the charges that could be filed for what you once were could have you put to death. It was treason of the highest degree. I know who you are now, and that’s an excellent commanding officer who is compassionate about his crew. You don’t deserve to die for the sins of your past. The things you know could be used to stop this Haranger character, so I took a calculated risk and recorded my own message for the Admiral’s staff. I’m not apologizing for it, either.”

  Ilium gazed into her cobalt blue eyes as tears began to form. Her passion for him only made him weaker as he beheld her. “I’m not looking for an apology. I want to thank you, you very well may have saved my life.”

  The expression on her face shifted ever so slightly from confusion to satisfaction. “You’re welcome, sir,” she replied with a smirk.

  As the King Slayer drifted deeper into the darkness, on a course set for nowhere, two lovers were caught in each other’s gaze. Ilium placed a hand on her thigh and leaned closer, their bodies touching. “To express my gratitude,” he said, “I want to give into the temptation I’ve fought since the moment I met you.”

  She placed a finger on his lips to silence him. “That’s very self-serving, sir. What kind of reward is that?”

  Dumbfounded, ilium looked at her questioningly. “I don’t understand.”

  Stavis smiled and rolled her body on top of him. Her hair tickled his chin as she leaned down, kissing his neck before whispering in his ear. “It’s only right you let me give into my temptations first.”

  Ilium grinned as he felt her kiss his neck more before finding his lips with hers. His mind raced with the thrum of his heart. It had been so long since he’d been with a woman that he was nervous, but he noticed the same in her as she trembled in his arms.

  It’s like we’re perfect for one another, he thought, his eyes affixed to a dull red spot on the ceiling of his stateroom. And then his mind moved to more intimate things.

  35

  Crase

  Coming out of deceleration felt like being born again. With all the tension removed from his body, Crase could finally relax. Esma lay passed out next to him, his seat reclined, and the straps still bound tightly around him. The right thing to do was to check the man’s condition, but a part of Crase hoped the bastard was dead. He knew when he was being played and with each passing day, the sensation that something terrible awaited him grew.

  Pila was large enough to see with the naked eye now. Its large wedge-like appearance reflected the light of the nearby star, glistening as the light skittered across the metallic substructure of the station. Crase wondered if the station could be used as a ship, maneuvered through the abyss to a new home system. With the ability to sustain oneself the allure of having a station like that was appealing.

  Especially when you wanted to disappear and not be found.

  Crase sat up in his seat and loosened his harness as he pulled the monitor near him. His eyes were blurry from several hours under strain, but he knew it was normal, though irritating like nothing else. It’s difficult to fight a battle with haloed vision.

  “How much longer until I can put this tin can on target?” His question was nothing more than talking to himself out loud, but he needed hear a voice.

  As he scrolled along the monitor, reading the data as it was laid out before him, he ran the calculations in his head. The ship turned out to be more efficient than he originally thought. In less than four hours he could be in targeting range.

  “Are we there yet?” Esma asked, his voice strained and weak.

  Crase sighed at the interruption. “Four more hours and the actions starts.”

  “I ca
n’t see anything,” Esma replied, ignoring the answer to his first question.

  “Is your vision blurred or blacked out?” Crase asked.

  “Blurred,” Esma answered as he struggled to raise his seat.

  “Then don’t complain. Your vision will return within an hour or so. It’s a side effect of having too much pressure on your optic nerve and your eyeball slightly changing shape. Most people return to normal. I would be concerned if your vision was totally lost.”

  “That happens?” Esma asked, his voice dripping with concern.

  Crase smiled, loving how uncomfortable Haranger’s little errand boy was. Certainly not the kind of person I would send to represent my organization, Crase thought. He ignored the question and moved on to the business at hand. “Have your people make rounds across the ship and search for damage. The strain of the deceleration burn was just as hard on her as it was us.”

  “All right,” Esma sighed as he rose from his seat. “It’s probably a good idea for me to stretch my legs anyway.”

  “Of course, be sure to hydrate too, it will help settle your stomach.”

  “Thanks for the tip.” Esma stepped out of the bridge and disappeared behind the corner of the passageway.

  “I hope you blow chunks you little shit,” Crase said under his breath, tickled with himself for hazing the man. “Never send a land dweller into the dark reaches to do this kind of work. It’s never pretty.”

  Alone in silence once again, Crase leaned back in his seat. He stretched, popping the joints in his back and neck, feeling the relief wash over him. All that was left of his plan to take back his ship was the slow drift towards Pila, finding the Replicade, and taking the lives of those despicable people who took her in the first place.

  “But I have something special for the girl,” Crase whispered.

  Something special indeed.

  36

  Gen-Taiku

  The first shot passed above her shoulder, the sound of the screeching projectile buffeting frightfully towards its target. She continued her press forward, one foot in front of the other as she held her weapon, barrel down to keep from accidentally shooting a friendly.

  It was her first time leading an advance into enemy territory with the intent to kill. Behind her, two Pilatian ground-pounders followed, their faces void of expression. Both were deadly shots, as each member of the resistance was, but the heart behind their willingness to fire did not match hers. Still, they followed and she was thankful for it.

  Behind the vehicles, Beva held the workers captive, their mouths gagged and their arms and legs bound. It was a peaceful surrender on their part, but an act of treason on the part of the resistance fighters. Not that it would have stopped them anyway.

  “I’ll take the lead up into the ship,” she whispered. “The crew knows me.”

  “Be careful, Gen, the two Greshians are armed,” Beva said into his comm.

  Gen nodded, not knowing if he was watching or not. From her vantage point the sound of something hitting the deck. As curiosity got to her, she climbed upward on the ramp, keeping a low profile until she could see inside. Above, Deis stood with a chain dangling from his hands as one of the Greshian men lay sprawled out and bleeding.

  But the sound of a man shouting hit her like a punch to the gut. “Deis, watch out!” Three words that prompted fight or flight. She drew her weapon upward and sprinted up the ramp to see the second Greshian guard with his weapon leveled at the Lechun.

  Two heart-beats later, her weapon fired. She didn’t recall willingly pulling the trigger, but the threat was neutralized nonetheless. Gen stood in shock as blood gushed from the Greshian man’s chest before he collapsed to the deck, the dull thud of his head striking the steel floor nauseating her more than the view of blood spilling out into a pool.

  “Gen?”

  Someone said her name, but she had no idea who. She barely heard the voice over the sound of her own heartbeat.

  “Gen?”

  She turned around to see Beva standing there, his weapon hanging loosely in his hands, a sign the threat was over. “What did I do?” Her mind refused to process the event and the place she had in it. Gen had never killed anyone before, her job was espionage, not infantry, yet here she stood, a killer.

  “You saved my life,” Deis said behind her. “Thank you.”

  She turned back to face the Lechun man, his sweaty, dark gray skin glistened under the bright lights of the cargo bay.

  She looked down at the mayhem she helped cause and felt her stomach turn.

  As her eyes struggled to take everything in, her men assisted the crew by removing their restraints. She stood there, Beva behind her, his hand resting on her shoulder as words flowed incoherently from someone else’s lips.

  Gen’s mind raced, no longer trying to make sense of the situation, but in finding a new path to forge.

  “Thank you for saving my brother,” Brendle said as he stepped forward, rubbing at his wrists from where his restraints had dug into his skin.

  She looked up at him, lifting her weapon defensively, causing him to stop dead in his tracks.

  “If you want to show your appreciation, you will surrender this ship to my people,” she said, all of her senses seeming to return to her at once.

  Brendle took a step back, hands raised as the Lechun men fell in behind him. Her people surrounded them, guns drawn towards their new targets. “I don’t understand, I thought you wanted us to work together,” Brendle said, panic in his voice.

  “You had your opportunity to help us. Now, we’re helping ourselves. Disembark the ship and I won’t shoot you where you stand,” she said.

  “I—” Brendle began.

  “I said do it now,” she replied, her eyes wide and severe.

  “You heard her, get off the ship,” Beva said, reinforcing her order. “And drag these bodies off with you. We don’t want the smell of rotting corpses on our ship.”

  She watched as Brendle looked at his men. They had nowhere to go and were outnumbered. As far as she was concerned, they should be thankful to be alive.

  But would they see it the same way?

  That was the question that made her tighten her grip on her weapon as her finger slipped into the trigger guard, ready to fire.

  37

  Brendle

  There was no gentle way to put it; the ship was lost.

  As he looked at the dead bodies sprawled on the deck of his ship, he knew he was outnumbered and outgunned. Despite everything he and his crew had gone through, it all came down to one hellacious day and the worst round of bad luck he’d encountered in his life. “So, just because we declined the original offer, you’re going to steal our ship? That doesn’t strike me as the right way to conduct business if you want to be taken seriously.” Brendle said.

  Silhouetted by the glowing lights of the cargo bay ramp, Gen stepped forward, her eyes blazing with a fierceness he did not recognize before. “Be happy we took your ability to make stupid decisions away from you. Otherwise, you would be dead.”

  “I don’t understand, Gen,” Malikea interjected. “I thought you wanted an alliance with us. We know how to pilot this ship. With a fully equipped weapons system, this is a formidable craft.”

  “That’s just the point,” Brendle said. “They decided to take the ship now that it’s stocked. I don’t think they ever wanted to ally with us. They wanted to use us.”

  Gen dropped her weapon and holstered it, but Beva and his men kept their weapons trained on them. “You’re so arrogant, Mr. Quinn. Do you know that? When Malikea made the offer to us, I wanted to accept, to prevent the spilled blood that a true revolution would cause. But your decision to say no caused this. Look at your people, face-down in their blood, their lives slain for a lost cause. Pilatians will rule ourselves.”

  Gen’s words stung as they fell on him. “I’m sorry, but I thought I could handle the situation without making it appear I was taking sides.”

  Gen scoffed. “Everyone on thi
s ship knows what side you chose, Mr. Quinn. Now, leave my ship, or face the same fate as Princess Herma’s men.”

  Brendle looked to his crew, downtrodden and defeated by two enemies in a single day. She’s right, he thought, I brought this on us. “You win,” he said, “The ship is yours.”

  His response mustered a cold glare from Deis and Malikea, but they stayed silent.

  Gen nodded and stepped out of the way of the ramp for them to depart.

  “You can remove the bodies yourself,” Brendle said as he walked past, shoving his hands into his pockets and not looking back. He heard the sound of footsteps fall in behind him, but he didn’t have to look back to know it was his crew.

  “How could you give up so easily?” Deis asked as they continued to tread away from the Replicade.

  Brendle stopped at one of the vehicles and opened the door. “Pedero will think we’re dead, we need to find another ship and get off this station. Hop in.” He slammed the door closed and waited for the Lechun men to climb in.

  “That still doesn’t explain why you gave up the ship,” Deis continued as he strapped into his seat.

  “It wasn’t easy, but I doubt they will be able to get Pilot to release custody to them. They won’t be able to take off so the Replicade is nothing more than a static display of a warship without us on it. I’d say we’re in a good position to collect Anki and get out of here before people start shooting.”

  “Your plan is to abandon the ship?” Malikea asked.

  “In a manner of speaking? Yes. Hopefully it isn’t lost to us forever, but I don’t have the passion to try and wrench it from someone’s hands who could just as easily shoot us to keep it.”

  He thought about what he was saying and how hopeless the situation sounded. It made him sick to know the home he shared with Anki for over a year was now gone, but he had to have faith that they could find another way.