Brocke: Alien Warlord's Conquest (Scifi Surprise Pregnancy Alien Military Romance) by Vi Voxley

chained to the inner walls of the drains, tall enough for even Corgan warriors to walk in.
    Cora wanted to believe they had drowned, she really did. A part of her had to believe that to remain sane, but another, darker side of her knew Condor had timed the execution better than that.
    It was possible, however, that the half-breeds had merely drowned when a massive amount of water rushed over them, spilling into the lake. After all, the man Cora and Ashby had found hadn't had any visible mutations.
    She needed to keep that possibility in her mind, because there was nothing left of the victims now but twisted skeletons with a few chunks of flesh on their bones. Some appeared to have acidic burns, while others were so unnatural in color merely thinking of it made Cora want to hurl.
    Other than water, the factory also dumped all of its chemical remains through that drain.
    Above all, Cora couldn't shake the images of some of the skeletons lying in a way that showed they had been trying to get free.
    Even breathing seemed difficult after seeing something like that. Cora swore to herself silently that whatever she or Brocke had to do to find Condor, they would. Legal or not, that monster had to get his judgment day.
    “Did you see that missing spot?” Cora asked very quietly, but Brocke heard her anyway. “The closest chains were empty.”
    “Your drowned man,” he said darkly.
    “Yeah.”
    What a terrible way to go.
    Back when Cora had been a little girl, her father had taught her a technique to channel pain. All the times when she’d broken a bone or hurt herself in any way, Cora would squeeze down on the sensitive skin between her thumb and her index finger.
    Right away, the body would focus on the piercing sensation there, but it was a bearable pain. Maybe it had something to do with the fact Cora was inflicting it on herself and knew she could stop at any moment.
    She wished with all her heart in that moment that there was something like that for her mind. No matter what Cora tried, she wasn’t able to get the sight of those bodies chained to the drain walls out of her mind.
    What a terrible way to go , her inner voice threw the words back at Cora like a broken vid.
    She had never hated her good imagination more. Cora could practically hear the screams of the victims as they heard the drains suddenly echo with the water and waste rushing their way. Hands tearing at the chains, trying to hold their breath… all futile in the end.
    Tomeh was observing them with watchful unease while Cora tried to remind herself that her job required a peaceful, objective mind. Hemak, on the other hand, was visibly trembling. After all she’d been through, Cora wasn’t about to get herself taken off the case for misplaced anger.
    It was difficult.
    “You were smart not to look,” she told Tomeh, shaking the images away. “Keep away from there if you want to sleep. I will inform the Militant of this at once. They will come and clean everything up.”
    The supervisor was taken aback.
    “What about my factory…”
    "We will go and see your factory now," Brocke cut in. "And judge what part you played in all this."
    “What about my workers?” Tomeh asked, the hard lines of concern on his face aging him. “We had no part in this, but the warriors… they threatened us not to say anything.”
    “The Militant will take care of that too,” Cora said, moving away so as not to feel that terrible stench anymore. “My colleagues will find out who helped and who didn’t. Those who are innocent have nothing to fear, but all of you suspected something and didn’t inform us. That will also come up.”
    Tomeh’s complexion was almost ashen as he followed, stumbling.
    “We were afraid…” he began.
    “Yeah,” Cora said, turning to him, her eyes flashing with rage. “That is the excuse everyone in your position offers, but I have no sympathy for that right now. Perhaps you should go and take a look after all.”
    The supervisor didn’t