Soros: Alien Warlord's Conquest (Scifi Alien - Human Military Romance)

by Vi Voxley

  Turian, for example.

  Soros couldn't fathom that the clan lord would actually have the nerve to blow up the academy. Yet if Turian saw his victory in that, he wouldn't hesitate for a second. The clan lord's memories from his time there couldn't have been pleasant, and Soros didn't think Turian viewed the academy with anything other than the same hate he harbored for Soros himself.

  So now the clan lord had two hostages, and Soros wasn't prepared to sacrifice either. Dolon Hall was his responsibility, and Kat… There was nothing in the world that could take Kat from him.

  Turian had managed to hide himself in the shadows for too long, while other men died for him. Soros decided it was time to drag him into the light, no matter what it took.

  * * *

  The crypt was almost empty when he arrived.

  Soros hadn't taken any guards or allies with him for the journey down below. No matter what, he would face Turian alone. The clan lord was welcome to hide and avoid him, but Soros refused to stoop to that.

  He saw a few warriors standing around and figured there were more hiding behind the crates and shelves and machinery that filled the dark, gargantuan room and those behind it. As he'd presumed, things had been moved.

  Soros wasn't a priest, but he had been at Dolon Hall long enough to know which elements shouldn't have been in close vicinity of each other. As much as he could see, there was a messy pile of them in every corner of the crypt. All guarded by Turian's men.

  Fighting them wouldn't have been an issue, but going after one left three others to trigger a detonation that would sink the Hall into Hetton's soil.

  Saying nothing, Soros moved on past them.

  Turian was standing by a great machine, shaking with turbulence. It was intended to grind the practice robots used by the warriors to pieces when they had been damaged beyond repair. There was blood on the floor next to it. And Kat was nowhere to be seen.

  It was the hardest thing he'd ever done, forcing himself not to storm Turian right then and there.

  If he hurt Kat, I will feed him to that machine inch by inch, limb by limb.

  Soros only saw red before his eyes, feeling the way his entire powerful body shook with rage. He kept telling himself it couldn't have been Kat, that Turian wouldn't be so stupid as to discard one of the two shields he held. But his eyes kept returning to the blood on the floor, hearing her screams echo in his head.

  "I hear you killed Hux," Turian said conversationally.

  "No," Soros replied, hearing the way his deep voice turned feral and threatening, unable to stop himself from growling at the clan lord. "I wielded the blade that killed him. His death is yours."

  "Don't be so dramatic, Commander," Turian laughed, turning to face him. "You can't blame me for leading my clan. It is what we do. But perhaps you've forgotten the way Corgans live. After you decided to side with Nadar, I'm not surprised."

  "There is a difference between leading a clan and letting the clan take all the blows aimed at you," Soros snapped. "You really didn't learn a thing, Turian. Think what you like about Nadar, but he would have searched me out instead of hiding here, instead of letting his men die."

  "Stop comparing me to him," Turian retorted furiously, his temper flaring to life. "I'm not Nadar. I never will be. I will be... better."

  That was an odd thing to say. Something sounded wrong.

  "You want to challenge him," Soros stated simply, frowning. "You're an even bigger idiot than I thought."

  "After you, Nadar is nothing," Turian replied carelessly.

  "There is no ’after me‘, Turian," Soros snarled, his rage finally taking hold of him. "You still think you're going to walk away from it all. Dolon Hall, me, everything you've done. There is no place for you anymore. Even your own clan will turn against you soon enough."

  Turian looked him in the eye for the first time. Then he nodded slowly.

  "You might be right, Commander," he said. "But you speak of a world where you win. I won't let that happen. I will kill you and no one will ever stand in my way again."

  "Big words," Soros replied. “Especially on my world.”

  "I suppose you think I won't dare to face you," the clan lord said.

  "Experience shows that that is exactly the case. Even now, you hold the academy hostage because you're not man enough to fight me."

  Now Turian's easy composure dropped. He might have been a cowardly, conniving bastard, but he wasn't without his pride. Soros saw his eyes flicker to somewhere on his right, appearing to look for something.

  Kat, Soros thought. Kat is under the Palian cloak.

  So that was why he couldn’t see her anywhere. The relief threatened to overwhelm him. Soros had hidden Kat away so he couldn't fight his way to her. She was probably tied and gagged, but alive. That was the only thing that mattered.

  Soros wanted to dash out to where Turian was looking, but he remained in place. If Turian knew where she was, so did his bodyguards. They probably had their rifles aimed at her. He wouldn't risk getting her killed so stupidly.

  "I have no desire to destroy Dolon Hall," Turian said at long last. "As you said, I would never be forgiven for that. But think of it as reassurance that you won't try to trick me somehow."

  "And the girl?" Soros demanded, hating bringing her up.

  He didn't want to draw any attention to her, but he needed Turian to say she was okay.

  "The girl too."

  Relaxing a bit, Soros went on, "How do you think I could possibly trick you? This is your twisted thinking again. In a battle, there is only a warrior and his opponent. One wins and the other loses, it's as simple as that. I have never brought anything to a fight but myself and my swords. What else do you think I have?"

  Turian shook his head, smiling humorlessly.

  "Nothing, Commander," he said. "That's your problem. You take chances, you rely on yourself alone. I don't. I never gamble with my life. I win my battles before they begin, don't you understand that?"

  He gestured to the four corners of the crypt.

  "If this room explodes, the Hall will be gone, you know that."

  Soros didn't respond, but every word out of Turian's mouth made his blood boil hotter.

  "And I guess you already figured out that the girl is here too. Before you make another threat, I know how important she is to you. Don't bother. This will all be over soon."

  Soros' eyes flickered to where Turian had been looking before.

  "I wouldn't give her position away that easily," the clan lord pointed out, smiling. "Now, Commander. I think we are finally in agreement."

  "I doubt that," Soros replied, scanning the room, looking for a place that was guarded without any apparent reason.

  "But we are," Turian said, and the sudden change in his voice told Soros that they had come to the end of it all. "I told you. I will win, because you can't afford to. We will duel and you will die, because otherwise Dolon Hall goes down along with her. And you wouldn't want someone else to take the hit for you, would you, Commander? Weren't those your words?"

  Soros didn't reply. The situation had gone from bad to worse to impossible in a matter of seconds. He couldn't let Turian kill everyone, least of all Kat. That meant he had to die to protect them.

  "There is no guarantee you wouldn't do it anyway," he said.

  He will kill her regardless.

  "As I said and as we both know," Turian replied almost tiredly. "There is no use in me destroying the Hall. I would rather not. But I will, if you don't obey me."

  "And her?" Soros demanded, feeling like a broken record, still looking for any sign of Kat. "She is of no value to you."

  "True," Turian allowed. "But I would rather not piss off the Union."

  Soros stared, but the clan lord merely chuckled. Then his laughter echoed across the crypt.

  "After all those years, you're still so naïve, Commander," he said. "Not everyone has ideals as firm as yours. I merely want everything I can have. And you will serve the realm up for me by d
ying. First Hetton, and then the rest of the planets."

  There were no words in Soros' mind, only hatred. The man before him had opposed him before but without real fire. As long as Turian had an actual reason behind his actions, Soros could almost understand. At least as long there was an agenda, something worth believing in, something worth dying for then Soros could see the thinking behind it all.

  Now it turned out Turian had let all those warriors die for nothing. Nothing but his own personal glory.

  He couldn't leave the realm to the mercy of that sadistic fuck.

  "Shall we?" Turian asked with a smile. "I'd rather that everyone saw our duel, so there would be no doubt about my victory. Keep in mind that if you make it look too easy for me, I will not hesitate to kill her."

  An impossible choice hovered before him as Soros turned without a word and begun walking out of the crypts, Turian following him.

  Then Kat's voice rang through the air, clear as day, "Soros, one of his bodyguards has the cloak..."

  He turned around quickly, but there was no sight of her. The last word had been muffled like someone was holding a hand over her mouth, but Soros didn't see any movement. Which only confirmed what she had said – the man guarding her was unseen to him as well.

  The machine. The blood.

  They weren't the final resting place and the remains of Kat. They had been there to mask the breathing and any other clue they might have given Soros about the guard’s presence.

  He had been right. Kat’s voice had come from roughly that direction. Soros thought he could have stood right on top of Kat without knowing it, unable to help.

  Turian looked annoyed by that revelation, but he composed himself quickly.

  "I told you," the clan lord said. "I take no chances."

  With that dark truth, they left the crypt behind. For the first time in his life, Soros was not sure of what to do. All he knew was that he had to protect Kat, but neither of the possible futures bode well for her.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Kat

  When I thought everything was going to hell before, it most certainly wasn't a challenge to the universe to make it so much worse.

  Turian had ripped the transmitter from her, speaking his vile challenge to Soros, and the ghostly presence took a hold of her again, more gently this time, but only in comparison to choking. The grip around her was strong and solid, and even though the warrior was standing right behind her, Kat could barely hear him breathe.

  It was very clearly a "he", stronger and taller than her, but that was pretty much a given with Corgan warriors.

  She struggled, if only to prove to herself she hadn't given up yet. Kat knew it was futile. It wasn't her moment yet. With everyone's attention on her, escaping was impossible.

  Turian's call to Soros made her angrier than she could ever remember being. How did that fucker keep getting away with all of it? She had hoped that Romod and Challen would start doubting their lord after they heard what he truly was, but it seemed they already knew. Kat didn't know what had bought their loyalty or whether they actually believed in him, but it didn't matter.

  She was alone in this.

  Her helplessness was starting to really get on Kat's nerves, but she warned herself to wait for a better moment. The time to fight back would come. Until then, she watched in disgust as Turian's men dragged the corpse of a young man – possibly a guard of the crypt – into the middle of the room and threw it in the ugly machine.

  As it began grinding the body into meat paste, it spat out blood, covering the floor around it. The ghost behind her carefully kept them out of the way of the spraying crimson. In the next moment, Kat found herself being gagged and dragged back, behind the machine.

  She fought harder this time, kicking at the ghost furiously. One lucky hit got him over the nose and Kat heard a satisfying, furious growl.

  But that was the end of her resistance. The cloaked bodyguard wrestled her down and forced the gag into her mouth more firmly. It was nothing more than a strip of cloth, no doubt ripped from another corpse, but Kat couldn't make a peep. She was forced to watch, mute and unseen, as Soros came into the room some time later.

  Seeing the commander, the ghost tightened his hold on her. Kat pushed back with everything she had, but it was damn hard. At least she was giving the bodyguard something to do, leaving her hands fairly free. The man could hold her down and keep the gag in her mouth, but then he ran out of hands. Kat clawed at him, but the warrior was armored.

  She wondered whether he was afraid of being matched against the commander.

  Probably. Who wouldn't be? I need to warn Soros. He needs to know there will be four swords against him, including two he can't see.

  The last part wasn't technically true, Kat realized. Soros couldn't see the blades only until they remained hidden under the cloak. Meaning the ghost couldn't really stab him in the back in front of the witnesses Turian needed. He was a safety measure rather than another fighter in the duel. More likely meant to make Soros trip than kill him in Turian's stead.

  The clan lord would never have allowed his victory to be so obviously soiled.

  Kat listened to the two warriors speak, all the while fighting her ghost. She was absolutely intent on making his life as difficult as possible. Kat thrashed in his grip, trying to kick something over, to draw Soros' attention.

  And she was succeeding. The ghost had to waste his energy by dragging her feet away from any and all things that could make a noise, while Kat was mainly focused on spitting out the gag.

  She was almost there, praying that the ghost didn't notice what she was doing. In her mind, Kat was trying to figure out the exact words she should say. There was no doubt in her heart that the ghost would silence her quickly, so she had to make every syllable count.

  Soros' face was terrible to behold when Turian finally revealed how little he actually cared about Corgan politics. He wasn't the last line of resistance to Nadar Brenger's new course. He was the bastard who was taking advantage of all those Corgans who felt that the world was spinning too quickly out of their control.

  Kat was honestly amazed that Soros managed to keep his composure. Even she could see his hands twitching, fingers wanting to grasp for his swords.

  The two warriors were complete opposites of each other. Turian was a warrior only in word and build, but nothing else. He was cold, merciless, without honor.

  Facing him, was Soros in all his glory. Kat didn't know if it was the fact that she was seeing him through a lover's eyes, but the commander was magnificent. Tall and proud and unflinching even in the face of his imminent death. His blue eyes were shining with defiance, the long dark hair falling over his shoulders framing his face and giving him an even more dangerous look.

  The image of his imminent death wasn't one Kat wanted to ponder, but she used it to push herself forward. It seemed Turian and Soros had run out of words to say to each other. She had to warn him before they left or it would all be over.

  Finally, as Soros and Turian were almost out of the door, the gag slipped over her lips.

  Kat called out to him, relaying the only piece of information she thought could actually help Soros survive. As she'd known it would happen, the ghost slapped a hand across her mouth at once. The impact was enough to make her bite down on her tongue and she could feel the taste of copper in her mouth.

  Worth it, she thought.

  At least Soros knew what he was about to face. That was all she could do for him.

  Or was it?

  The ghost held her in his vice-like grip for a long minute before letting her go. Kat couldn't even get up before a gun was pointed at her, one of the warriors looking to pinpoint his aim on her. The ghost dragged her closer until the warrior could pull her hood back and take proper aim.

  Then the ghost left her side and Kat didn't have to wonder for too long where he was going. His steps disappeared into nothing and Kat counted the moments until she could be sure the ghost was out of the roo
m.

  She needed to help Soros.

  Her experiences with the Corgans had taught her that while she was fine on her own in any other part of the galaxy, in this realm, she was hopelessly outmatched. There wasn't a goddamn thing she could do to actually aid Soros in his duel. But she could give him a chance at fighting back.

  Turian had practically told Soros to die and make a good show of it. Kat knew the only way Soros would be free to retaliate with force was if he knew she and the academy were safe. That meant the time to escape had come, and she was in a hurry.

  Kat had never seen a Corgan duel, but she figured they couldn't take long considering the fact that one of them couldn't really fight back.

  "Turn that thing off," the warrior holding her at aim ordered gruffly.

  Right, right. I'm still almost invisible.

  "Okay," she agreed hesitantly, thinking for a way out of it. "Don't shoot me when I raise my hand, right? I need to reach the dial."

  The warrior nodded tersely, but raised his rifle even higher.

  "Don't try anything," he warned her.

  Kat felt a shiver run down her spine. She was risking her life, but without Soros, it would have been over anyway.

  There was no actual way she could outplay a Corgan warrior, but she had to try her best. Giving the man her most calming, nervous smile, Kat raised her hand to the device on her wrist. All she needed to do was turn the dial up to switch the cloak off.

  Never taking her eyes off the warrior, Kat turned the switch up. She could see her body appearing from seemingly thin air and the warrior relaxing. As soon as he lowered the rifle, Kat moved.

  There weren't many things she was better at than Corgan warriors, but she knew her own damned gear.

  She had been sitting down since the ghost had dragged her to hide behind the meat grinder or whatever it was. Now she threw her full weight against the warrior's legs. He fell, shouting. For a second, he lost her from his field of vision, but that was all Kat needed.

  She pulled the hood over her head again and turned the device back on. Altogether, the motions hadn’t taken more than a second. Thanking every god she could think of for having practiced putting on her cloak in the direst of circumstances, Kat dove for the rifle.