Page 61 of Torn from the Alien Commander

“This should be fun,” I lean down to whisper in Tyrxie’s delicate, tiny ear. The screen’s angle changes to show five Nebians chatting as I land amongst them, rendering them helpless in a mere second under my savage punches and kicks. Watching it, I can’t help but smile, and my hand twitches, reliving each blow. Until I notice one of my attacks lacks perfect technique, wrinkling my brow with disappointment.

There’s always room for improvement.

The Consuls are also displeased, but I doubt it’s because of my technique. They grumble and gasp at each crunching blow.The squeamishness of other species can be so tiresome.The worst is yet to come as the screen shows me extending my claws to loom ominously. A potential disaster if not for my sweet Tyrxie pulling me back from the brink.

“Savage! Look how it sought to spill their blood!” the irksome female from before exclaims. Her words pass over me like a light breeze as I choose the path of peace.

“Please Consul Juliara. If you can’t observe even a modicum of respect for the Ambassador, I will have you removed,” the Imperator snaps with a grimace.I think I may be warming to old Bulba.“Although an explanation may help ease the doubts of the others,” The Imperator suggests, gesturing towards me.I take it back.

Thank the Gods Tyrxie was there, or this would’ve been a very different type of meeting. “My companions and I took great care to spare the lives of your noble soldiers.”Bunch of weak short-stuffs.“What you witnessed here was an involuntary emotional response, brought about by the injuries I suffered at the Prefect’s hands,” I reply, bowing my head in feigned shame. The truth is enough—after all, it’s already written in the future paths.

A soft murmur greets my words. Good, let the shame of their people’s actions temper their fiery blood. The massive screen speeds through the recording. “Nice!” Tyrxie exclaims, stroking my ego delightfully, when she witnesses me slicing through the battlesuit with a blindingly perfect strike.

She has a good eye for quality.

I give her a playful bump and a smile when the stream speeds through the part where her accurate shots took out the three sniper drones. “We should ask them for a copy of this,” I jest, causing Tyrxie to suppress a cute chuckle.

The stream continues, showing me entering the room to face the final Nebian defenders. My blood stirs within, watching it, threatening to spill forth my golden Rush. I can almost feel the heat of the laser beams, my hair tussling as I dodge, the adrenaline surging within, the joy in my heart. But for now, it’s the part where I ask permission to pass that’s most relevant.

Mutterings of disbelief echo out as I appear like a blur dodging crimson light itself. How I long to fight again, to put my skills to the test unbarred by the need for restraint, unburdened by revenge. Unshackled and free, the pinnacle of our noble blood, the manifestation of the Gods’ will.

I almost don’t notice the recording speed onward, lost in my joyous musings. It now shows the final confrontation with the soulless Prefect, where I divined the correct paths, ensuring he attacked me first, knowing this moment would come—feeling the weight of history.

“Look at how the Prefect disrespected the noble Imperator,” I gesture to the massive screen, highlighting, when the Prefect referred to Bulba as an ‘old fool.’

“Shut up! My Horaxus fought for the good of all Nebians to protect us from the likes of him!” The irksome female voice echoes. Despite the amplification, it still conveys raw emotion and seething anger.

The Prefect’s lover, perhaps?A little nest of vipertails.

“He was a usurper, corrupted by hate...” My words veer off as a sudden realization hits me like an orbital drop. The Prefect was the end result of my dark path, where honor gives way to something sinister, where mutual respect for a fearsome advisory becomes twisted into the vilest, disgust and loathing.

“The Prefect was a warrior like me. He had seen too much, endured too much. It ate away at him, just as it eats away at us all. The Scythians’ endless war has done this to our noble brothers and sisters. I say it’s time to put an end to the hateand the suffering. That’s why I endured, why I fought like the light itself, so I could stand before you now, to make this final plea. Let us work together against the Scythians. Let us achieve a glorious victory and a lasting peace,” I declare, my heart soaring, carried away in the moment as my golden Rush drifts from my eye.

A deafening silence follows, threatening to dampen my elation, fearing my passionate words may be wasted. Tyrxie presses against me, beaming with the sweetest smile. I could get lost for an eternity in her emerald paradises of adoration.

Glad she liked my heartfelt words, even if the others didn’t.

Then, a faint rhythmic thudding reaches my ears, almost imperceptible even for my senses. I scan the room, locating the source above. The Consuls high up are stamping their tiny feet—hopefully a gesture of approval.

An answer comes in the form of a smiling Imperator, his orange eyes glowing like orbs of Elerium. “Well spoken, Ambassador!” he exclaims, nodding towards me. “I was going to save the vote until after more deliberations, but after your fine words, there’s no bloody point waiting!”

“You honor me, Imperator. I simply spoke from the heart,” I reply, nodding, wondering if the Gods inspired me.

“And a fine heart it is,” the imperator retorts, before turning to address the Consuls above with arms raised. “All in favor of the Nebian-Klendathian alliance as proposed by High Chieftain Krogoth.”

The enormous screen shifts to a circle already half filled with a deep blue. “The Imperator’s vote counts as forty percent, and a vote needs seventy-five percent to pass,” Tyrxie whispers beside me, her eyes glued to the glimmering projection. “Come on,” she repeats, urging the fates, growing more excited with each utterance.

Ignoring the vote, I instead watch Tyrxie with a smile, filled with love for her, because I know what the result will be, the futures paths now all converging into a glowing victory. “I love you, Tyrxie,” I mutter softly.

“What?” Tyrxie says absently, before she leaps on the spot cheering, her arms pumping frantically. “You did it! Ninety-one percent only a single vote against!” She turns to me, her face brimming with excitement.

“We both did,” I correct her, mesmerized by her joy and my good fortune that the Gods brought us together. “Without you, there was no future.” The words leave my lips, although Tyrxie may never understand the full extent of my words.

“Don’t be silly, you big dummy,” she says, leaping into my arm, her laughter echoing out as I spin her round. “I knew you could do it, Xandor. Peace between your peoples!” I clutch my love, holding her tight next to my heart where she’ll always belong.

My face beams and my heart soars, not just for the victory, but for the adoration I see in Tyrxie eyes reflecting my own. However, peace is such a vague concept, lacking the raw, visceral passions that stir my soul. I know this is just the first step of many to secure the future. The possible paths sprawled out before my mind’s eye show many trials ahead. Krogoth especially will have his hands full.

“Congratulations, Ambassador!” The Imperator declares, drawing me back to reality. I set the panting Tyrxie down, surprised to see the elated Bulba standing before me with a leg raised.

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