by Vi Voxley
The warrior woman thought for a moment and offered, “Hotheaded?”
Despite everything – being in the midst of an intergalactic dispute, having survived a murder attempt, and being away from Diego, which hurt most of all – that made Isolde snort.
“Yes, you are,” she confirmed. She thought better of adding the word hardly did them justice.
“Indeed,” Eleya said. “We are Brions. We keep what is ours. I wanted to keep Rhea too, but I see why we cannot and why we should not. Not at that price, at least. Our most important concern is our people and their survival. If the choice is between Rhea and all Brions, it is no choice at all. We are fierce, human, but we are not vicious. Killers, not murderers. Most of us, that is.”
Isolde considered it for a moment. “You’re a great demagogue, you know that?” she said, smiling, indicating it was a joke.
Eleya allowed it with a sweep of her hand. “I am trying to console you, yes. But it is true, Briolina is beautiful and deadly, but we do not kill everyone we see. You are Diego’s gesha. That is how most of Briolina will see you and welcome you. They do not know about Rhea, never have – not even the Elders could keep a whole planet silent. They think Diego comes home to show off his fated to the Elders and to make a show for you by challenging Crane.
“He underestimates his popularity, human. You will be the gesha of a famous general on Briolina, come to protect a tradition we hold very dear. Who do you think would try to hurt you?”
Isolde honestly hadn’t thought about that. One answer still remained.
“Eren,” she said. “The other senators. What about them?”
“Them,” Eleya said with contempt. “Leave them to me. A bunch of cowardly snakes, afraid to accept true responsibility for their choices… Do not worry. Every day Eren keeps hiding from our generals, he hurts himself. Brions do not look kindly upon weakness and on hiding behind stronger men to fight your fights for you. He is not as popular as he thinks.”
“Are you?” Isolde asked. “You think his position isn’t as strong as he perceives it. Is yours?”
Eleya’s smile was almost dreamy as she replied. “Nothing is ever certain. That is the Brion way. If someone challenges me, then that is how it will be.”
The valor squares going up her slim neck pulsing bright beams of light when she was upset made it difficult to forget that she had been a general – and she did have a temper – but that was one of the moments it was very obvious to Isolde that she was, after all, so very different from the other senators. She hoped Eleya was right.
“Why do you hate Senator Eren so much?” she asked instead.
The dreamy smile was gone in an instant. Isolde thought she might lash out, but the fury wasn’t directed at her.
“You put it well in our meeting: we all keep our reasons.”
When it was clear she wasn’t about to say anything further, Isolde’s wandering mind almost instantly returned to Diego, who seemed to be the beginning and the end to everything these days, the welcome distraction gone. Every free moment she had set her heart thudding faster at the memory of him, turning into a dull constant pain.
The senator, however, kept watching her and finally seemed to come to some conclusion.
“Could you leave us for a moment?” Eleya asked her guards. When they were gone and Isolde was alone with the woman she was still unsure was going to be a great help or stab her in the back, the senator leaned back in her seat and asked bluntly, “Diego would never answer me this, nor forgive me asking in the first place, but you are a human. So tell me, why do you refuse him?”
Isolde glared. The world was going mad, it seemed. Everyone was fighting battles that weren’t theirs. Eleya fought for Rhea, thinking it would be better left to the Brions. Diego fought the Brions, his own people – even if not all of them. Faren had watched his brother die. And now Isolde found herself having to fight the same battle she’d been fighting from the moment this whole gesha thing had come to light.
The one she desperately wanted to lose. The thought of Diego’s hand in hers, his parting words still warming and scarring her heart at the same time, hurt too much even as a private matter. How should she explain this to Eleya, when all she wanted was to be on the Triumphant, screaming her voice hoarse in Diego’s bed while the rest of the galaxy dealt with its own problems for a while.
“If he would not answer, why should I?” she said coldly. “I keep my own reasons.”
Eleya chuckled. “If you must. I suppose that is fair. I am just… interested. Any Brion woman would be glad for him.”
“Why does everyone keep saying that?” Isolde burst out. “Really. Explain to me. Why would I simply accept a man I met not even two weeks ago? Yes, sure, he’s hot and strong and all that, I get that I should cream myself at the thought of him –”
You shouldn’t take the moral high ground on that example, her mind provided helpfully.
“– but I was not brought up this way. Humans want to know the people they bind themselves to for the rest of their lives! I get that this is your way, I really do, that is my bloody job, to understand this, but that does not mean I have to go along with whatever it is you believe. You obey fate, that is fine. Humans like choices. We’re very fond of them.”
A human might have been upset at being yelled at like that, but Eleya didn’t blink an eye. It made sense, Isolde thought, that the Brions were very oddly relaxed about confrontation. It was their way to fight everything, including other people’s opinions… She shut up.
It wouldn’t have done any good to keep screaming, because she might have gotten to the point of not knowing any more why she kept saying no, if it was so clear she could no longer bear to without him, not even for a stupid shuttle ride to Briolina. Already, her hands ached for his skin, her lips for his, her… well, her body had been aching to claim his cock for a while, that was nothing new.
“I understand,” Eleya said, when it was obvious Isolde wasn’t about to continue.
“How? How could you possibly understand? Have you been practically kidnapped from your culture and forced to uphold the ways of another? How do you know what I feel? Are you bound?”
Just as Eleya slowly shook her head, looking her straight in the eye, Isolde finally put the clues together. The hate she’d displayed hadn’t seemed rational to her, but it wasn’t rational, was it?
“I am not, that is correct,” Eleya said. “But I can imagine what you feel.”
Isolde sat, stunned. Eleya sat opposite of her and they both looked at each other, similar in so many ways, trying to bridge the gap that separated their views of the world. Many times, Isolde had tried to imagine what trying to communicate and meet aliens halfway would look like, but she’d always pictured Rhea. This… was different.
“Him?” she asked finally, her voice much gentler now.
A look of cold fury flashed behind the senator’s eyes, then it disappeared and was replaced with simple regret. “We are both rarities, you see, Isolde,” she said, not adding anything to Isolde’s name to show she was talking to her as a person and not as part of whatever she and Diego were. “You are the first gesha who is not a Brion and I… I am the gesha that rebelled.” Another smile made her eyes flash wildly. “You see, Brions like their choices too, sometimes.”
Isolde hadn’t the faintest how that was even possible. The entire galaxy knew that the Brion matches were indisputable to them.
“You are not the first?” she dared ask.
“No,” Eleya said, taking a drink. Isolde thought they had more in common than she’d have ever guessed. She needed a drink too, which Eleya poured when her eyes had stared at the bottle too longingly. “I am not. At least that is what the healers tell me. But it is rare, so very rare.”
For a long moment, they sat in silence, sipping the alcoholish thing. “I did not mean to offend you by asking, you know,” Eleya said. “I just – really wanted to know.” When Isolde looked at her, the senator appeared, for the first time she’d se
en her, relaxed like a normal human. Like a woman – a woman first and a senator and a former general and all the rest second.
Isolde’s resolve not to speak of anything was crumbling before that brutal honesty. She didn’t need to ask to know that what Eleya had trusted her with wasn’t public knowledge in any way. They were the Brions, for gods sake, neither of them could have held high office while defying the most sacred of Brion traditions.
“I’m not honestly sure I am refusing anymore,” she said quietly. “I want him. I really do. But this whole fate thing is so… so…”
“Flimsy?” Eleya asked, smiling. When Isolde nodded, a truly, truly grateful sigh falling from her lips, she nodded. “I know. You have no idea how much I thought that when Eren told me.”
Just for a moment, her eyes were melancholy. Not for him, but for old days full of hope. Only when a surge of compassion shot through her heart did Isolde realize how much of the recent weeks she’d spent pitying herself.
“I had such dreams for my fated,” Eleya was saying, barely noticing Isolde in the midst of her memories. “My brothers took me to watch the fighters when I began my own warrior training. I always wanted a general. I was strong, I would have made such a great match for one. All our generals are older than me, and Faren and Diego were already distinguished fighters. How I dreamed it might be one of them.” She suddenly trailed off, managing a look Isolde was forced to pin down as apologetic. “Forgive me, it is horrible to say that of your gerion…”
“No worries,” Isolde said, smiling. “Any Brion woman, remember?”
Eleya snorted. “Yes. But of course, I had to wait. I was so afraid. You are a researcher, you must know our matches are often the opposites of each other. I feared another general might be too close to what I was myself. I ruled Diego out fairly quickly. He was too much like me. But Faren – I hoped we could be a match of generals. He was the strong, silent, precise type and I was as I am now.”
She went quiet for a moment. “Fate had other plans for me, as it seems. It was not meant for me to be happy. I always hated politicians. I always hated the senators, treacherous even then. Always trying to assert control over the Elders, believing to know better. We are the Brions. We do as the smartest of us think is right. They repulsed me. And of them all, Eren was always the worst.
I often thought they should have made a warrior of him with all that aimless, pointless bloodlust, but for some reason he went another way. As I slowly approached the age where most matches are made, I prayed to the fates not for Faren or Thora or any of the others. I prayed, ‘Not him.’ And when he came to me, I could not even reply. I just said no and walked away. It was like a…”
“Great galactic joke?” Isolde provided, smiling sadly.
Eleya nodded. Isolde thought she saw the hint of the same relieved smile of someone, finally, understanding. And so they sat, two people who fate had deserted and given their worst fears. One left without a choice and one left with nothing but the worst choice.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Diego
Diego Grothan had never been truly afraid of anything.
Sure, he’d experienced fear every once in a while, in situations where his life was in very clear and real danger, but even that had been more dread of his life ending too soon, before he was ready to leave. He’d admit – to himself, of course, not to any other living soul – having been afraid of some of his more worthy enemies. It was a healthy feeling, it showed he wasn’t completely insane.
Faren was right, being fearless wasn’t a sign of bravery, it was a sign of stupidity. There were plenty of things in the universe to fear. Diego could pride himself on being one of the most feared beings in the known space, but even he wasn’t immortal.
With Isolde down on Briolina and him still on the Triumphant, after returning from the space station, Diego finally understood what it was to be afraid. Not for himself, or of his fight with Crane, which would both have been completely reasonable fears.
For Isolde. For his gesha.
He didn’t like the feeling. Cold, unyielding terror seized him at the thought of her alone on Briolina. Not that she was alone, of course. Deliya and Narath were among his best and Eleya was far from helpless. Yet Diego had no illusions, if Eren wanted Isolde dead, he’d make it happen. The only way to keep her safe now was to make sure he didn’t give the senator a reason.
Isolde was no longer a threat to him, but Diego didn’t doubt for a moment that if Eren felt like he had nothing to lose, he’d burn down everything he could with him. Including Isolde. And without being near her, Diego was helpless to stop it.
He shouldn’t have let her go. Shouldn’t have listened to Eren, or Eleya, or even Isolde herself. Should have kept her, taken her back to the Triumphant and gone to battle for her. His entire being called for that. Diego was a Brion warrior, he didn’t back away from fights, not even with a very real war looming on the horizon.
Only he’d betray the Brions doing that. The Elders had trusted the senators to rule Briolina in their absence, but they’d made a mistake in trusting Eren. Now Diego had to fight both for Isolde and for them, to make sure Eren didn’t toss them all into a war they could only hope to survive. Luckily for them, the senator’s self-preservation so far overruled his need for war. Politicians were like that. If it were any of the generals, they’d have claimed Rhea long ago and not cared in the slightest what anyone in the galaxy thought.
Even more fortunately for them, Diego’s word meant something. So did Faren’s. So did the generals’ who had sided with them, and Eleya’s. There was doubt among Eren’s ranks. Doubt whether they were betraying the Elders and if they were to be exiled or worse.
Eren had to know that. And Diego had to walk the thin line between giving him hope and dashing it.
With the fate of the galaxy resting on his shoulders, his thoughts were still on Isolde. Her soft lips, the delicious sexy curves of her body, begging to be fucked even if she wasn’t vocalizing that wish. Her eyes did, Diego had seen it more than once. Her eyes called to him, imagining the same things he was: them together, fucking each other into oblivion, her soft body welcoming his intrusion, accepting his claim… He shook his head clear.
No one had told him how maddening being away from his gesha would be. His body trembled with need, unfulfilled without her. Satisfying himself was a poor replacement for what he truly craved, what he needed.
Worse was the longing to simply be with her. Everything else came second.
Two weeks ago he had been perfectly content, but two weeks ago he hadn’t known the absolute pleasure of having a gesha, even if she was not his. Yet. Hopefully.
Fate must have had plans for the two of them. Diego had to trust that.
---
Faren and Atren joined him for a last meeting on the Triumphant before descending to the planet. Still adjusting to the command of the Fearless, Atren hurried to help him in any way that he could. The part of Diego that could still find humor in life thought if they all survived the coming days, Faren would have the younger general rename his brother’s ship. He almost pitied Atren – to be a Brion general and still have to obey. Yet it was as it should be. Diego and Faren were simply stronger and might was everything to Brion warriors.
“It is official,” Atren said seriously. “My sources confirm it. Crane has gone mad.”
From another, Diego would have taken it as an exaggeration, but they had no time for such games. So that rumor at least was true.
“A mad Crane,” he said. No fear, not even judgement, simply a statement. “That should make the fight interesting.”
Faren’s face was as unreadable as ever, but Atren’s concern showed.
“It is always better to fight a sane enemy,” the young general said. “They fear, can be cautioned, and can be tricked. This one, his strength combined with an empty mind…”
“Do not quote basic tactics to us,” Faren said, standing with his hands crossed as he usually did, not lifting his gaze f
rom the ground. “Diego knows.”
Diego did know and Faren’s comment amused him. Even if only for the look on Atren’s face at being reprimanded by his idol. After surviving this – and renaming the ship – the young general really needed to grow some balls, Diego thought. Letting that comment go without an answer, if not a challenge – what kind of a general did he expect to be? Gawen wouldn’t have let Faren finish the sentence. Then again, for the seniority they had over him, he supposed it could be forgiven.
“Are you prepared for his choice?” Atren continued cautiously.
The challenges were always traps of sort. It was the right of the one being challenged to choose the weapons, which was a huge advantage and the reason there were so few challenges to death. There weren’t many who could boast equal skill with all weapons. Diego was one of the few.
“He can choose any weapon he likes,” he said calmly. “It makes no difference. Strategy remains.”
Atren frowned. “Yes, but the obvious choice?”
“Obvious?” Diego growled. “I would not say I had such a clear weakness as you seem to think. Which weapon would you use to fight me?”
To his credit, Atren stared him straight in the eye. “I would not challenge you and would not want to be challenged by you.”
Some balls, after all. Some brains too.
Atren went on, “But if I were Crane… If I was an insane giant warrior and my opponent was one of the best fighters in our armies with the clear intention of trying to tire me out and keep me at a spear’s length… I would not choose a weapon at all.”
Now Faren looked up and he and Diego exchanged a long look.
“Find out if he has been modified in any way since we have been gone,” Diego ordered at last. “Any built-in body armor, reinforced bones, you know the stuff you need to look for. If Eren had even a bit of time to get work done on him…”
