Daegon: Alien Warlord's Conquest (Scifi Alien-Human Military Romance) (4 page)

"What about the people on Gaiya?" she demanded. "All the civilians. Mara."

"The clan on the surface will protect them," Daegon replied grimly. "They have shelters for this occasion. Don't worry about the chieftain's wife, there is a horde of warriors protecting her and she is in the safest place possible."

Zoey thought of the Citadel, the unconquerable Corgan fortress built inside a mountain. Mara and her child would be safe there. The warlord was right. All the ships in orbit were in much greater peril.

The sound of the alarms changed again. Zoey could feel Daegon's grip tighten around her arm.

"Prepare to be boarded!" the warlord roared to his warriors.

H
e almost had
to admire the bastards.

The Yemalan had to have had some fucking nerve to come out of their territories like that, to attack the holy world itself. It was a clear insult, nothing less.

If Daegon had believed for one second that their intention was real, he would have taken the defense of the shrine more seriously. As it stood, the
Wraith
alone would be able to repel the attacks in orbit. The chieftain's clan could take care of anything that reached the surface.

But, he did
not
believe it. The raiders cared for the shrine even less than the Union did. All it was to them was a bargaining chip, something to hold against the Corgans.

No, the attack was a message of war.

"Look how far we've come," it said. "Beyond the borders. Beyond your worlds. Right on top of your shrine. We are seeing the blue of your eyes. You are
weak
."

The implications made Daegon's blood boil.

At least he had the
Wraith
. Most Corgan ships were hardly worthy of being called warships. They were massive but lacked the firepower to match their sheer size. But Rudion, Daegon's former lord, had taken a different approach.

He had said it was a shame the Corgans had no considerable power in open space and so he'd commissioned the
Wraith
. It was unlike any other Corgan ship and even Daegon wouldn't dare boast knowing everything about it.

He could only guess that Rudion hadn't done it alone. The ship's build spoke of Palian design. The old chieftain had to have bargained some deal with the wise, peace-loving species. Although they were the guardians of the galaxy, they were nevertheless capable of building pretty much anything, and so the
Wraith
had been born.

Daegon suspected that the Yemalan had been the direct reason for that. And now the ship and Rudion's clan served him and would come handy against the raiders.

The Yemalan were a wild, savage species living on the outskirts of explorable space. Corgan territories lay between them and the Union, making them even less known to the Union. Short, wiry and bad-tempered, the Yemalan were like the twisted mirror image of the Corgans. With no honor to guide them and no obedience to anyone but their own hunger and greed, they were like Corgans unleashed.

All the more reason to hate them – they were the ugly reminder of how bad the Corgans could have been. Daegon wondered if he should point that out to Zoey, but she would probably see soon enough.

Hurrying through the ship, the warlord thought about her, glancing at the woman by his side. Zoey's safety was quickly becoming an issue, with the alarms signaling that Yemalan pods had breached the outer core of the ship. It was how they waged war – trying to capture enemy ships – but Daegon welcomed it.

The
Wraith
had plenty of guns to defend itself, and the shields were good as well, but his warriors wanted real battle. To see eye to eye with the enemy and smell the blood in the air.

The bridge kept reporting the state of the battle to him. Outside, Nadar Brenger's clan was defending the holy world, as well as providing support from the surface. The smaller ships and the
Wraith
's fighters were battling the Yemalan strikers.

The mothership that had spawned all of them waited further, out of active combat, not wanting to come too close to the
Wraith
. It was hiding behind their vessels, trying to keep the planet between itself and Daegon.

Soon, the warlord knew, they would pull back and leave the mess they’d caused behind. Whether they would achieve their goal, which was to create more tensions between the Corgans, depended on his actions in the next few minutes. The raiders wanted to show Nadar's weakness, even if the chieftain wasn't on-world.

That would not do. No matter what Daegon thought of the chieftain personally, he couldn't allow the Corgans to be weakened like this. Not before the Union, and definitely not in front of the Yemalan.

"Aim for the mothership," he ordered the bridge. "Try to provoke it into battle."

Even as he was saying that, Daegon knew it wouldn't work. The Yemalan had figured he would stay to defend the shrine and not go for the prize. They were safe where they were, while the faster, more agile strikers could pick away at the
Wraith.

Considering his mood, boarding would probably not have been the enemy's smartest move.

Only where did that leave Zoey? Even in the midst of the confusion and the blaring alarms and reports of first contact with the enemy, Daegon's thoughts kept returning to her.

The female was rushing alongside him now, not asking any questions, trying hard to not be in his way. Her skin was soft and divine under his fingers and he ached to caress her instead of holding her arm firmly in his grip.

"Can you fight?" he asked, not expecting anything good from a politician.

"I know which end of the gun shoots, yes," she replied. "All Union officials have to go through mandatory training. Basic combat, weapons, some stealth lessons. I was just about to ask you for a gun so I wouldn't be completely helpless."

The beat of his hearts was thundering as he looked at the female, steadying herself in the chaos of the warship.

She was nothing like he'd imagined the ambassador to be.

He ordered a crewmember to surrender his gun to her, knowing he'd get a new one almost immediately. Zoey took the weapon and weighed it in her small hands. It was shorter and better suited for her than the long, sharp rifles the Corgan warriors carried.

"Alright," she said after she'd made sure how to use it. "Thank you. I'm glad I didn't get one of those blades. I think I would do more damage to myself with those than to the enemy."

Daegon grinned, but then the situation on the ship caught his attention again. Up ahead, he could see a troop of Yemalan soldiers coming closer. Crouching, ugly creatures with wide mouths filled with four rows of razor-sharp teeth.

They were unnaturally pale, with wide noses and round, wet eyes. Daegon saw Zoey wince when she took her first look at them, but after the initial shock, she cocked the gun and took aim.

"You should hide," the warlord suggested, shielding her when the enemy began to shoot. "Find a quiet place and don't come out until I've purged this filth from my ship."

"What about you?" she asked, the concern obvious in her voice.

Daegon almost laughed, but her sincerity made him weaker than any wound ever had. There she stood, dazzling in her defiance, worrying about
him
. He stood more than a head taller than her and was an accomplished warrior, even more so. His name alone had made Yemalan troops flee before, and it would again, if he stooped to such low tactics.

And Zoey, so defenseless in her tight little robes, wondering if he would be okay.

"I will find you when this is over," he promised. "Now go. I will become a target very soon. With me, you're bound to be one too. Hurry, before they see you."

Taking one more look at him, her gorgeous green eyes shining, Zoey nodded and rushed down the corridor behind him. Daegon watched her go, making sure the approaching troop didn't see where she was heading.

He stood between them and her, and when she rounded a corner, the warlord turned to the creatures that had dared to board his ship.

No words were necessary, no taunts. The Yemalan wouldn't back away now and he had nothing to say to them. Daegon charged into their ranks alone, his warriors knowing better than to linger around for a fight he could easily win.

The Yemalan were armed with short spears with three sharp tips like a trident and an electric glove that sent a nasty shock through anyone who let it touch their skin. It was fair to say that anyone a Yemalan touched would die, then again, anyone who let them come that close was dead anyway. Corgans had learned it the hard way when they first waged war against them. It was no coincidence that their armor covered everything but their faces and their bodies were coated with a substance that lessened the shock.

The Yemalan were shorter than Daegon, but damnably fast. The double blades in his hands worked mercilessly to keep them away from him. Blood ran on the deck as the warlord turned and jumped, cutting down enemies as he advanced. He was mindful not to let any of them pass him, just in case Zoey had decided to stay close by.

The Yemalan screeched their battle cries at him, but he didn't understand them. Few Corgans spoke their language. It had become obvious centuries ago that everything that could be said had been already.

The meaning of the shrill screams was clear enough. They hungered for his blood, wanted to tear him apart limb from limb. The Yemalan were raiders, savages who desired the Corgan worlds, richer than the lousy rocks they inhabited. It was all they could think of, seizing any opportunity to try and snatch one of them.

The mere idea that one of the Corgan worlds should become the home, the breeding ground of those creatures was unthinkable and sickened Daegon to his core.

He could see their beady eyes stare up at him as they clawed at his armor. Uncaring, relentless, they tried to pin him down by crowding him. More than once, Daegon slipped away from the paralyzing gloves with nothing more than a hair's breadth between them.

The short spears were hard and tough, more than able to meet his blades, but he didn't intend to duel them. Forcing his way into their ranks, Daegon killed until he and the survivors had to step over and on the bodies of the dead.

The shock would be more than enough to make him stumble if they managed to touch his skin, but his armor took its share. Daegon could feel it shake around him as if he were stuck in a metal container, but it stood staunchly between him and the opportunity the enemy needed.

In turn, he started by cutting off their left arms that now littered the floor as the Yemalan tore and rushed him, more desperate with each passing second. When they finally got stuck in their dead companions, the screams got louder and more furious.

Daegon recognized the moment when they realized their assault was doomed, but he wasn't about to let any of them escape. The first to turn their back on him were cut down without hesitation, and in the end, the corridor was left silent once more.

Daegon took in the condition of his ship. He could barely see the floor under the bodies heaped on top of each other and the blood he'd spilled. The warlord felt no joy and no pride. The unit had been nothing more than fodder for his swords, a delay in his way.

Yemalan soldiers never matched their officers, who were worth a hundred of them, but there were
many of the soldiers, making up with numbers for what they lacked in cunning or skill. He couldn't tell how many minutes he'd spent on them.

Turning back to where he'd sent Zoey, Daegon opened the comm link and asked the bridge to report.

"We are making progress, lord," the bridge assured him. "The bastards managed to surprise us, but now they're seeing our true power. They're being pushed back. The strikers are returning to the mothership but several remain close by. Delaying us."

Daegon thought that was out of character for the Yemalan. It would have been a cover, but Yemalan officers didn't care for their soldiers. They ordered them to die without a second thought.

"Prepare to follow the mothership," he ordered.

"Lord, but –" the captain said, sounding surprised, even daring to ask, "What about the negotiation?"

"She is here, isn't she," the warlord replied. "It doesn't matter where I talk to her. I will not allow the Yemalan to simply run and retreat to the shadows. They must understand that there is a price for their misguided attack."

The bridge obeyed, and Daegon could feel the ship start to buzz wildly under his feet as the vessel turned towards the enemy.

He would give chase and deal with Zoey while they pursued. Aboard the
Wraith
, she would be safe.

Walking back to the hallway where he'd parted with her, Daegon immediately noticed signs of struggle. With the practiced ease of someone who has seen many battlefields, he took a closer look at what the ship told him.

Like another man might read a book, the warlord read the trails of blood as he moved forward slowly. With every step he could feel his hearts beat faster, having nothing to do with the battle.

A gunshot here, evident from the shells and the impact point on the wall. A handprint of the electric glove on the wall – someone had dodged a strike. Daegon growled, low and dangerous, when he thought of the damage the glove could do to a defenseless body. His was tempered by training and the surgeries, but Zoey...

The little female was nowhere to be found.

If she were dead, I'd see her corpse lying here,
he told himself, but that wasn't as much comfort as he would have liked.

Why did he care so much? She was the representative of the Union. His main concern should have been what Nadar Brenger would say if he failed to protect the woman under the attack, but it was not. Even Corgans weren't that callous towards the Union, but more so –

It was worse, much worse. Daegon didn't know the reason for his feelings, but even his soul seemed to ache, thinking of her fate. The need to make sure she was safe was unbearable. It was sharp, painful, obsessive even. Like his very being called to her, to bring her into the safety of his arms and never let her go.

Daegon had thought that he'd keep her safe, sending her away from him. In battle, he would have had to protect both of them. Now he wondered if he'd made a mistake. The ship was unfamiliar to Zoey and the enemy was at large. Had he sent her to her death?

The warlord gritted his teeth. If that was the case, he wouldn't rest until the men who killed her were gifted with eternal life of torture under his hands.

The comm link came to life.

"Sir," the officer on guard reported. "A large group of Yemalan managed to make it back to the pods when the mothership sent the call. They... They have the Terran female. She was sighted being carried away, but we couldn't reach the enemy in time."