Sold to the Alien Cartel: An Alien Menage Romance Page 3

I’m alone. But that’s my fate. I chose this path.

  I have to walk it.

  I study the five men gathered in front of me.

  My most-trusted.

  Isn’t that a joke?

  One of them is stealing from me. I’ve worked with them all for a decade or more, and yet one of them has the audacity to take food from my plate.

  But I let none of my suspicions slip as I address them.

  “Profits are growing steadily, friends. We’ve just secured a shipment of Mark-2 missile launchers that are going to be bought up by the Gorian Mining Corporation. That’s going to be the biggest deal we’ve had to date – and it’s going to bring us our most profitable quarter ever. That means bonuses.”

  I don’t have to say the missiles are illegal for my crew to understand that fact. It’s a serious criminal offense to possess one of those missile launchers, unless you’re actually part of the Aurelian Army. But that’s the nature of my business – providing people with what they can’t get through more legitimate channels.

  And it’s always astonishing how straightforward such transactions are. It took bribing a single Aurelian officer to secure those weapons. He ventured a small vessel into dark space with an entire load of those missile launchers in the hold – to the spot where he knew my ambush was set up. We ‘stole’ those weapons from the waiting vessel, and gave our Aurelian co-conspirator enough bruises to divert any suspicions that he’d been privy to the scheme.

  He got demoted for choosing a poor flight path for his shipment, but that was a small price to pay compared to the payment I slipped him. And as for us? We took that entire haul of weapons without firing a shot. It was such a clean steal it was practically art. No losses, just a simple snatch and grab that worked like a fucking charm.

  But that’s the way crime works at this high level. It’s a business, right down to spreadsheets, pension plans and profits and loss reports. My crew of lieutenants even did a risk assessment before that job – calculating the cost of acquisition, arranging a buyer before we’d even acquired the merchandise, and greasing all the necessary palms to make this deal happen smoothly.

  Smoothly, and profitably. It’s going to bring 900 million in freshly-laundered revenue to my company – the legitimate-sounding KG Holdings.

  “That means bonuses,” I repeat, and my words are followed with murmurs of appreciation. They know that this payday is a sure thing - the Gorian Corporation is one of our most loyal customers.

  But while the five men are all smiles and nods, I look at them with icy coldness.

  One of them is a snake.

  Humans.

  They’re all the same.

  There was a time I had two blood-brothers – my bonded triad. I could truly trust them to have my back.

  Most Aurelian warriors are telepathically bonded to two others – and alongside me, the two other members of my triad once worked as a single unit – traveling the universe during our hundred year service in the Aurelian Army and protecting the colonies from Scorp attacks. We served our hundred years of war valiantly, just like all Aurelian men. But when our days of combat were done, I chose a different life than the one of palaces and harems that awaited us.

  I chose this life – and they abandoned me as a result.

  We’d once been willing lay down our lives for each other, but now Brutan and Arok view me as deserving of death for all the things I’ve done.

  The lives I’ve ended.

  “Congratulations on brokering this deal.”

  It’s Tomas, a shrewd human accountant who’d do anything to bring more revenue to my business.

  I look at him appraisingly. Is he the thief?

  My assistant, Dorothy, enters the board room and the conversation stops. She wouldn’t disturb us unless there is an emergency.

  “Korgath – I’ve got terrible news.”

  I turn, my face grim.

  “What is it?”

  “Our warehouse by the docks was just hit.”

  Colin slams his fist down on the table. “Fuck! Did they get all the Mark-2s?”

  The other four lieutenants look at him with surprise.

  “The Mark-2s are being held on 4th Street,” says David.

  “No, they’re under the sports complex,” Tomas looks equally confused.

  Of course he does. Each of my lieutenants was told a different location, where they believed our shipment of stolen merchandise was stashed. That made identifying the traitor easy.

  Colin was always smart. His face goes pale as he understands the trap he’s just stepped into.

  “I told all five of you a different location,” I confirm Colin’s suspicions – the darkness creeping into my voice.

  I’d once thought Colin was my most-trusted partner. I’d plucked him from the slums and took him under my wing. The human may have had less than three decades of life under his belt, but he’d learned quickly, and in some respects I’d come to think of him as a son.

  Had.

  “Korgath…” Colin stands from the table, putting his hands defensively in front of himself, “It’s… It’s not what you think.”

  My four other lieutenants look up at him, totally shocked. They must have had their suspicions about a traitor in our ranks – after all, there have been raids on our secret storehouses for the last month – but for it to be Colin?

  I can barely keep the anger out of my voice.

  “Why, Colin? Tell me why.”

  My hands are balled into fists, but he will not make me lose my composure. I might have disgraced my blood-brothers, but I’m still an Aurelian – and I still consider any unnecessary display of emotion to be weakness.

  Colin gulps dryly, and then goes for broke.

  He points an angry finger in my direction.

  “You… You fucking Aurelian’s think you’re better than us!” Angry spittle is flying from his mouth, but there’s fear in his voice – as well there should be.

  Colin glances desperately at the other four men sitting at the table. They’re all humans too, and he’s wildly hoping to find an ally amongst them. He is going to be sorely mistaken if he thinks his race will buy him allies at my table.

  I just stand there and wait, my body tense and ready.

  I replay his angry words in my head. That accusation I’ve heard so many times before – that Aurelians think they’re ‘better’.

  So, Colin’s been indoctrinated by those human nationalists.

  I shake my head. I might not show any emotion, but sadness overwhelms me almost as strongly as anger.

  “I made you, Colin. I brought you up.” I’m unable to keep the bitterness from my voice.

  “No!” Colin jabs that accusing finger at me again. “You never thought of me as an equal! You just used me, like a tool!” He spins to address my other lieutenants. “You too, you feckless idiots. Don’t you see it? Haven’t you four ever want to be your own boss? Aren’t you tired of having your sweat and blood enriching an Aurelian’s pocket?”

  He spits the word ‘Aurelian’ like it’s a curse.

  But while he’s searching for an ally, the other four can’t meet his eyes. There was initially confidence in Colin’s angry tone, but when he realizes he stands alone, his eyes drop and he trembles.

  The human turns to me, and the anger is gone from his voice.

  “Korgath. You don’t have to do this. Just… Just banish me. I’ll leave, and I’ll never come back.”

  A cruel man would torture a traitor.

  A weak man would let him go free.

  I am neither.

  To the humans, the speed of my next actions is almost imperceptible.

  My Orb-Blade hums to life, and with one stride forward I take Colin’s head from his shoulders with it before he can even blink.

  Blood splatters across the conference table, and Dorothy gasps and staggers back, her eyes wide with horror.

  Colin’s head spins in the air for a second, and then falls to the ground with a wet-sounding th
ud. His body stands for a moment, his hands up and pleading, before it crumples lifelessly to the floor.

  I am not cruel.

  I am not weak.

  I am merciful.

  And a merciful man bestows a swift death.

  “The meeting is over,” I say, standing there with my Orb-Blade still humming – but my voice calm and cool.

  Inside, grief overwhelms me. I just killed the man I once considered like a son. But I killed more than Colin, when I took his head from his shoulders. I killed yet another part of myself, as well.

  Just one more casualty. I’ve destroyed and corrupted my own being countless times, through actions like this – all in this endless quest for riches and power.

  But I had to. There’s no room for weakness at the top – and I will do anything to get to the top.

  With Colin’s body spreading blood across the floor, my lieutenants stand nervously. They wordlessly file from the room – trying desperately not to reveal the fear, and horror, and dread they feel.

  My four most-trusted men, now.

  A moment later, Dorothy and I are alone.

  “Send someone to clean this up,” I snap, jerking my head towards the bloody mess. Dorothy nods, trembling, unable to make herself look at the twitching body on the floor.

  I leave the boardroom and cross the hallway – to enter my training room.

  After such a brutal act, it’s time to lose myself in the focus of mindless combat.

  I rip my blood-soaked clothes off until I’m naked, and throw the soiled garments to the floor. Colin’s blood stained the fabric of my white dress shirt, but this outfit will be forever stained with more than that. Stains you can’t see – only feel.

  I’ll have the clothes burnt.

  My training room is designed to keep my battle-honed body and instincts in peak condition. I activate the program, and immediately find myself assaulted by the first of the cleverly-programmed combat droids; which learn from my technique and style, and constantly find ways to push me harder.

  They push me hard, but not one of these robots has ever bested me – just like no Scorp ever did, in my hundred years of service.

  My Orb-Blade hums, cutting through air to separate the head of the first robot from its body. I dodge to the side, avoiding a dulled blade thrust by a second droid, and I counterattack with practiced concentration.

  Yet I swear my blade feels disappointed with each thrust and stab, as if it wishes it was rending through flesh and blood – not a lineup of dull-witted training robots.

  I’d thought it would have had its fill of blood by now. My blade drank well of the Titus cartel a hundred years ago, and rent through the upstart Toad syndicate just two decades earlier.

  Those were the days. The blood lust rose in my Orb-Blade, and I remember the purity of purpose and the intoxicating focus of battle, as I took down all the dangerous bastards who once stood in my way.

  Defeating the Toad syndicate is perhaps my strongest memory. I can still remember how fast my heart beat when I ripped the head off the leader of the Toads, and stuck it on spike for all to see.

  But that was a long time ago. My Orb-Blade drank of Colin’s blood today, but it will never be sated – and that thirst is growing.

  Still, thirst can be contained – for a while. I focus on my training – ducking, and weaving, and parrying in this simulated dance of death. It’s not as effective as real battle experience, but I still train every day – just waiting for someone to come for the throne.

  They’ll never take it – not while there’s breath in my lungs. Titus is mine. Not a penny is bought or sold on this planet without me getting my cut.

  Finally, when I’m a sweating, panting wreck, the last training robot is downed. My muscles ache from the hour I spent training – sweat sheening over my naked body.

  With a snarl, I switch off the training program, and the AI robot scuttles out to scoop up the severed, smoldering remains of the ruined combat robots. Over the next few hours, they’ll be repaired and rebuilt – their complex programming incorporating all that they’ve learned from my combat technique. It’s no substitute to real combat, but each day the robots push me just a little bit harder.

  The door opens, and Dorothy steps in.

  She seems to have recovered her composure from seeing Colin’s head removed from his body. In fact, my personal assistant gives me a knowing look – as if she can feel my frustration and pent up ambition. That’s why I like her. As much as any human can, she understands me. She knows that it isn’t enough for me to merely be the king of a planet. I need to be king of the whole, interstellar underworld. I need to control it all.

  And there’s only one man remaining above me in that hierarchy.

  Dorothy studies my panting, sweaty body.

  “We need to get you a woman, Korgath,” she murmurs, finding it difficult to make eye contact with me. It’s almost funny. Moments earlier, she saw me kill a man – and yet now, instead of looking at me in disgust, her desire for me has only increased.

  The desire all human females have for Aurelians.

  I’m breathing hard, and the thought flashes through my mind how easy it would be to bend her over and take her. Maybe I could forget about Colin’s blood on my hands, in the ecstasy of mating.

  She’s attractive enough – beautiful, even, by the standards of human females. But I know there would be only an instant of satisfaction. Then, the pressure would return.

  No, that’s not an option. Just smelling her, I know she’s not my fated mate. Dorothy will never bear my children, and I have too much respect for her services as an assistant to succumb to my base desires.

  I shake my head. “We need to get a meeting with Xere.”

  I say his name with grudging respect.

  He’s the remaining man – the only one richer than me on the whole of Titus. The only Aurelian to rival my influence.

  What makes it more frustrating is that Xere only landed here recently. He’s a newcomer to Titus, and already he’s making moves – like buying up a casino to get inroads with the high-rollers.

  Xeres, also known as Mr. X, is the only Aurelian on Titus with a reputation for violence and lavishness that exceeds mine.

  I may own half the planet’s real estate, but he owns planets.

  Dorothy nods. She struggles not to look at my body, but I can sense her need. She aches for me to claim her – but she’s the best personal assistant I’ve found, and I’m not about to ruin a business arrangement for an hour or two of pleasure.

  Yet, her breath is quick as she stands at the doorway, and she can’t resist… Her eyes dart down to my cock. I ignore her hungry glance. Drawing attention to human sexuality always ends in embarrassment for these creatures – as if they’re ashamed of their desires.

  How primitive they are, with their attitudes towards sex. Many of these human females still don’t understand their biological need to be claimed and mated by a powerful man. They feel shame for what is natural, and right.

  Dorothy wets her lips as she studies my cock, and I wrap a towel around my waist to spare her hunger. It’s a futile move. Her eyes simply move upwards, to my abs, which have been chiselled by long training sessions that honed my already-muscular Aurelian genetics.

  Poor girl. She’s like every other of her species. Bland and submissive.

  To business, then.

  “Well?” I demand.

  Dorothy shakes her head, trying to focus on something other than my body.

  “A meeting – right.”

  She takes a flustered breath.

  “I… I don’t think it’s impossible to arrange. Xeres has expanded his businesses across this sector. We already know his pattern. He sets up legitimate businesses, then runs drugs and women through them. If he wants to expand further, he’ll need connections on Titus.”

  Connections – the arteries that pump the life-blood of criminal enterprise. The humans have a phrase for it: It’s not what you know, it’s who you k
now.

  And for all Xeres’ riches, he’s still a new arrival on this world – and nobody knows more people on Titus than I do. It isn’t just my planetary connections that will draw Xere in. I have inroads through the galaxies in my face interplanetary operation.

  “His assistants have mentioned us off-hand,” Dorothy continues. “They’ve sent subtle signals to our network that Xeres is considering using our shipping companies to bring in his contraband, due to our… Ahem…. Connections.”

  Connections. The carefully-cultivated network of bribery and greased palms that took me hundreds of years to build up. The one that allows me to bring illegal weapons and stim-drugs onto Titus with impunity.

  The Aurelian Authorities would have my head if they could prove what I was doing.

  Is it illegal? Technically.

  But wrong? That’s a deeper question.

  I see my work as a public service. The Aurelian empire has made things so difficult – demanding permits for everything, from mining to shipping cargo. Many businesses can’t afford to pay the Aurelian bureaucracy’s exorbitant fees and tariffs – so they operate off the books, illegally and unregulated. But those scrappy entrepreneurs wouldn’t be able to protect themselves without my services. I’m their only source of the tools and weapons they need to do their jobs; and live long enough to profit from them.

  Out here, on the fringes of deep space, the only thing more certain than opportunity is danger.

  For example, there are the Scorps – the nine-feet-tall or bigger beasts that are half-reptile, half-humanoid, and pure cruelty. They’ll rip you apart with those snapping claws, or grant you an agonizing death with their poisoned stinger… if you’re lucky.

  Worse, they’ll drag you – screaming and kicking – to their queen. She’ll wrap you in her webbing, and implant her eggs in your still-living body – to hatch inside you, tearing and devouring you from the inside out. You’ll die screaming, as you provide fresh blood and sustenance for another generation of those teeming beasts.

  Then there are the Toads – foul, fetid beasts who’ll swindle you of your last dollar, and sell you into slavery if they get the chance. They’re greedy, and lascivious, and never to be underestimated.

  And that’s to say nothing of the Aurelians – both the cold, emotionless representatives of the empire, and rogue Aurelians like me and Xeres. Many have turned their back on an empire they now consider decadent and degenerate – too accommodating to the humans that they’ve vowed to protect.