Alien Warrior's Wife: Sci-fi Alien Military Romance (Brion Brides Book 2) (3 page)

They took Brion physiology apart to its tiniest pieces, sometimes literally. Once they’d done that, they learned to put it back together. Then they learned how to look over someone else’s work and find mistakes they’d made. Even later, bodily modifications. Urenya learned how to build reinforced bones, how to strengthen the skin, and some horrors she couldn’t imagine anyone ever letting be done to them.

“If you’re commanded, you’ll do it,” Seleya said.

So that was it.

Whatever they did, Urenya tried to stand out in the only field she thought truly mattered. On every possible occasion where someone’s mental state counted for something or a counseling question arose, she tried to answer correctly. It was her proudest moment when Seleya smiled at her presentation of a test, which consisted of meeting a person and making a quick judgment on what was wrong with them.

“Nothing,” Urenya said when the Elder held her in the grasp of her piercing eyes. “He’s fine both in mind and spirit.”

“Hmm,” was all Seleya said. “And why do you think I presented you with a healthy exemplar?”

“To see if I’d be so tempted to find flaws that I’d invent them without taking into consideration the most easily forgettable possibility.”

And there was the approving smile she’d been hoping for. Urenya beamed.

“Ah, you truly are a natural,” Seleya said. “One of the best, I’d say. A pity.”

Seconds after being on top of the world, Urenya froze. They were alone, the test an individual evaluation, and someone had just pulled the world from under her feet. If the Elder meant what she thought she did, then… No.

“I’m sorry,” she said, forcing her voice to be calm. “What is a pity?”

“That I can’t recommend you,” Seleya said, her eyes ruthless and unforgiving. “I hear you’re friends with Diego Grothan, our newest general. Nothing would please me more than sending you to him. My warrior brothers tell me he will make all Brions proud. We expect much from him, so he will get the best we have to offer.”

While Urenya searched for words to keep her world from crumbling apart, the Elder went on.

“Or I might. The
Triumphant
needs ordinary healers too.”

Anger bubbled to surface in Urenya’s heart.

“Why?” she demanded, uncaring of talking to an Elder. “You just said I’m one of the best. What did I do wrong? When did I disappoint you?”

“On the first day,” Seleya said.

“But...” Urenya began.

“You’re a child,” the Elder cut her through. “A rebellious child, which would be fine. We are Brion. We have a temper. But for all your talent, all your skills and knowledge, you’re still unfit. Tell me why, young healer.”

Urenya stood, stunned. Her mind was in shambles, spinning, reeling. She tried desperately to grasp on to something, to think of why she was being scorned.

An image came to her. A smiling, joyful face, bright with life.

“My
gerion
.”

Seleya looked sympathetic for the first time Urenya could remember.

“I will ask you a question so simple even non-healers know the answer. What would you do if someone lost their fated?”

“Offer to listen,” Urenya said miserably, knowing where it was leading. “Observe if they’re showing signs of losing the will to live. Talk to them. Let them mourn.”

The healer Elder was nodding.

“I was very excited to have you in my class. All I had heard was that you were very smart, kind and lively. I was assured you would excel, and that I should book you a place on the battle ships at once. Then the tragedy happened, and I thought it would take time for you to be happy again, but it would happen eventually. Do you want to explain why you didn’t listen to your parents when they told you a person
mourns
for the one they were supposed to spend their life with?”

“Brions are strong,” was all Urenya could think of saying, but it sounded weak even to her.

For once, Seleya didn’t mock her.

“Child, running away isn’t a sign of strength.”

“I didn’t run away,” Urenya tried to protect herself. “I wanted to hold my head up high.”

“You literally ran away,” Seleya said. “On your first day.”

“You shouldn’t have asked me that in front of everyone,” Urenya said. “The bindings are private.”

“As if I don’t know that,” the Elder said seriously. “You were supposed to show your grief. If you’d told me any of the things I’m sure you thought at that moment, it would have been a lesson for your companions and a cathartic moment to you. But you ran.”

For a long moment, Urenya was silent. Then she said quietly,

“I… I didn’t even know him.”

“That happens sometimes,” Seleya said. “Did you try to find out what he was like?”

“No. I didn’t think it mattered anymore.”

“Don’t lie to me. You didn’t do it, because it hurt too much to find out something good and promising about someone who was gone.”

Urenya burst out crying, for the first time since she’d been a very young child. Seleya’s arms came around her, which would have been shocking on a whole separate level, but her barriers had finally broken down.

“Better late than never,” Seleya said. “Let this be a final lesson to you. Even the strong mourn. We are the Brions, our bindings are everything. You can’t brush it off like that.”

It seemed like hours had passed when Urenya finally dried her eyes and stood up straight. Something very heavy had lifted, but she was still drifting.

“Will you make me a lower healer?” she asked.

Seleya shook her head.

“No,” the Elder said. “I think you’ve punished yourself enough. And Diego has asked for you personally. But you have to promise me that you will keep in mind that when there is no one else around to diagnose you, you have to be your own healer too.”

“I promise,” Urenya said, relieved beyond words. “I swear.”

“Then I believe you will do great,” Seleya said.

When Urenya was already at the door, the old woman called to her.

“And I believe happiness is coming for you. You never had the binding. I doubt fate had that in mind for you.”

The
Triumphant
waited for her. While she’d spent her learning years studying all the ways to heal a Brion, Diego had been learning how to take their enemies apart. There wasn’t much theoretical to learn in fighting, but he had had to sit through tactics classes as well. After that, the young warriors were released into battle to learn by doing. Diego had done exceedingly well, so much so the Elders had taken notice.

It was a surprise to no one when he rose through the ranks in the only way the Brions knew. No one was appointed an officer. It would have been unthinkable to simply place someone who was supposed to lead them to possible death in charge of the warriors. No, the Brions earned their positions by blood. All ships housed huge looming arenas where they held their meetings, and where they accepted the challenges.

Diego had gone through them faster than anyone else alive. Amazing tales of his duel with the former general were being told when Urenya was on her way to join her once-friend and now-commander.

“It was over quick,” one of Diego’s warriors escorting her said. “He respected the old general a lot.”

That was it. Diego had had nothing personal against the previous general. He had simply been better and stronger. The place was his by right. Such a life the Brions led. Urenya felt oddly out of place, though she knew many ways to kill someone as well.

She felt like a different person. Or rather, a person returned to herself. Like she’d been in a bad dream and was, after such a long time, awake again. The memories of the bright and sunny day were bitter in her mind, her disappointment in her younger foolish self almost palpable, but such was her past. She could only be redeemed by looking forward. One more task ahead.

The newest general greeted her in person. Urenya couldn’t suppress a small shiver. She’d left behind a young athletically built man bound to be a great warrior. She reported now to a general.

Urenya had been prepared to greet him as Diego, but found the word no longer made sense for her to utter.

“Commander,” she said.

The towering general who had once been a boy she played with nodded, but there was a twinkle in his eyes signaling he was still there.

“It’s Diego to you,” he said. “I’m glad you’re here.”

Urenya nodded, honestly happy herself. There was no other place she’d rather be assigned to. The galaxy was huge, and she wanted to see it.

She waited until they were alone to take her final step in growing up.

When she quietly said, “Tell me about him,” the commander didn’t need to ask who she meant. He talked, and Urenya listened and cried. Then they found the images she’d refused to look at, and Diego’s steady hand was pure steel she could clutch when she tried to convince her mind the unrecognizable form was the same bright face that had waved her goodbye. It had only taken her four years to do that.

Then, for the first time in a while, she turned her eyes to the future.
 

CHAPTER TWO

Narath

A spear truly wasn’t his weapon, Narath concluded taking a painful blow to his left leg, which made his blood flow for the first time in a while.

It wasn’t that he was unskilled, far from it. Diego Grothan wouldn’t have called him to his ship if he didn’t think he was worthy, even if their friendship was long. Narath knew that for certain. It was one of the reasons he respected his commander so much.

No, it was that his agility was somewhat lacking. The commander had often said that the spear became a truly terrifying weapon in his hands. Depending on his mood, it either meant Narath could put such power behind its blows that it came on par with the great general himself, or that it was terrifying to look at.

His commander had offered he could switch to another weapon, more suited for him, but Narath had always refused. For one, the irony was that he liked the Brion battle spear, a true masterclass in weaponry in itself. And for another reason, he just didn’t want to differ. They were all Brions, they were one. Others could try to leave their mark by trying out non-standard weapons, but Narath had simply resolved to train harder.

He had succeeded. The spear that wasn’t naturally suited to him came alive with rigorous practice. No one else aboard the gigantic
Triumphant
with its thousands of warriors trained as hard as he did. And while it could still be the case that quite a few warriors were faster than him, none of them could put it to use. None of them got even close to him. The spear twirled with horrible might in his hands, keeping them all at its length. It didn’t take many blows from him to send them all sinking back.

Well, all of them besides the commander, but that was different. No one truly expected to beat Diego Grothan, just to hold out long enough not to be embarrassed. Many were dying to see him duel other generals to find out for a fact if he truly was the mightiest of them as was said. So far, the commander had mostly refused. In private, he’d trusted to Narath that it wasn’t because he was afraid he’d lose. He didn’t want to humiliate the other generals before their warriors. They’d shared quite a laugh at that.

Other than the glancing blow, Narath was quite pleased. He’d lasted a full minute against the general. They were having a tournament within the ranks, all officers and everyone else who wished to test their skills. The two of them were the last two standing, after a brutal day of fighting for Narath and a mere workout for Diego. The valor squares in his neck were pulsing excitement and challenge. He wanted the commander to take him seriously as an opponent, even if he knew he’d eventually lose. In contrast, Diego’s crystalline squares going from the neckline to the ear – on both sides – shone brightly, showing his mind was on battle, but they didn’t let any particular emotion show. Narath knew how much concentration it took because when the valor squares were implanted they were connected to the warrior’s nervous system and reflected their entire being in a battle.

Whatever the commander was feeling, he’d still lasted a good while. Just as the smile of pride showed on Narath’s face, a predatory smirk tugged at the commander’s lips. He was flat on his back with the commander’s spear at his throat before the thought he’d been simply toyed with finished forming in his mind.

“Next time finish it as soon as you can,” he growled in irritation.

He didn’t need flattery, not even from the general. He wanted to know his worth.

“I did,” the commander said, offering his hand. “You were doing fine until you realized you were doing fine.”

“You could have finished it sooner,” Narath argued.

In everyday life, he was of course much more respectful to his commander, old friend or not, but warriors stood equal for a moment after a duel, allowing them to speak their mind.

“If I’d fought for my life in battle, perhaps,” the commander allowed. “Now go get your leg checked out. There will be real fighting soon, and I need you in top form.”