Empire's Son: An Epic Science Fiction Novel Series

I stood with my hands behind my back more to give them something to do than anything and forced myself not to pace the bridge of the Quortous. Instead, I stood ramrod straight with my eyes flittering back and forth from the large view screen that took up most of the front and the half dozen workstations with tactical readouts fanned out around me. Despite Captain Pylor standing beside me and the other five officers at their stations before us, the bridge was quiet as we all waited.

It had been fifty-one hours since King Rainus had been taken by the Shixxaminti. We had done everything in our power to get to him in a timely manner and be as prepared as possible to take on the aliens, but now as I stood waiting and watching, I thought of all the ways this might go horribly wrong. It made me feel ill and anxious.

My heart thundered against my ribs as the Quortous held a position near the edge of sector four-nine-twenty-two. This followed the Emperor's orders to keep me out of the direct fighting and as a fallback position for the rest of the fleet. But it also left us only able to watch the proceedings, however they might play out.

Half an hour ago, the Valiant, Vigilant, and Vehement, led by Captain Renault, had taken the infiltration team in toward the asteroid field that dominated the left quadrant of sector four-nine-twenty-two. This is where Gayle had determined Rainus's signal was coming from.

Ten minutes ago, the Wraith had successfully launched from the Vigilant with the team aboard. The Wraith was all but invisible to our sensors, its stealth technology rendering it a ghost among the asteroids. Only the specialized tracking beacon installed for this mission allowed us to follow its progress, a tiny blip darting expertly through the minefield of rocks that lay between them and their target.

I could feel Markus like a steady pulse linked to my own and realized I didn't need to see the darting blip to know where the Wraith went. I could close my eyes and feel how far away Markus was in relation to me. His presence was like a shining star only I could reach out and touch at will. Was this what it was like for Gayle tracking Rainus?

I reached out to him and sent a push of encouragement to Markus. I felt his gratitude and a strengthening of fortitude that followed shortly after. The subject of Markus going on the mission had indeed come up with Havoreat after the Admiral had received a heated call from my father on our way to sector four-nine-twenty-two. I was not privy to the conversation that transpired between my Protector and Havoreat, but in the end, the Admiral had strongly supported Markus's position to lead the rescue team.

My respect for the Admiral had certainly gone up after that, as well as the dread that I'd receive another angry call from my father. My hope was to avoid that conversation until at least the rescue mission was over. I'd have a much stronger defense if this went well. If not, well…

I turned my attention back to watching and waiting. Somewhere in that floating chaos of rock and dust was the alien vessel that had taken King Rainus. According to Gayle's tracking, it had nestled itself deep within the field, perhaps hoping to avoid detection even from the only way we could pick up the Shixxaminti ships. It would have worked too, if it weren't for the tracer bond. The Vigilant hadn't been able to register the Shixxaminti ships until they had entered the outer edge of the asteroid field.

"Signal from the Wraith, sir," Lieutenant Yorn, the Quortous chief communications officer, said, breaking the silence. "They are making their way to their target. They should be there within five minutes."

The green blip indicated the Wraith ship was moving quickly toward a break in the asteroid field. From our vantage point, it just looked like the Wraith was headed into an empty pocket in the middle of the asteroid field. The Shixxaminti were completely invisible to us.

"Thank you, Lieutenant," Captain Pylor, who stood beside me, said. "The Fleet should drop out of hyper-light any moment now. Eyes sharp, people."

The Captain of the Quortous was nearly a head shorter than me, and like most everyone else I had seen in the Legion and Vanguard, his hair was pulled back in a severe ponytail. But unlike anyone I had seen so far, his hair was completely white despite his relatively young appearance. It gave him a distinguished look that somehow made his authority feel more natural.

I had only met Pylor that morning during the last briefing before everyone had gone their separate ways. I was immediately impressed with his quiet but commanding presence. He didn't have the severe intimidation that Vang did, but there was no doubt that his crew respected immensely. He also didn't mind answering any questions that I had, which I appreciated.

"Is it always this nerve-racking on this side of operations like this?" I asked half in jest and the other half trying to settle my nerves.

The Pylor grunted. "Always, but you get used to it after a while. Though I think I'd rather be on the other side, at least then I wouldn't have much time to think about what's going on."

I nodded in agreement. "Yeah."

"This is your first time on something like this, isn't it?" He lowered his voice as he asked.

I gave him a sidelong look. "Am I that obvious?"

"Only because I was looking for it. It's a good plan, by the way, to get the King back, Highness. I know a large part of it was your idea, and the new missile was a ingenious idea."

Captain Pylor was talking about the mark 12s the science team and I had spent hours attempting to redesign to be effective against the Shixxaminti's ships, or we at least hoped so. And as I stood there on the deck of the Quortous waiting for the fireworks to begin, I once again hoped our efforts to create an effective weapon against the Shixx ships had not been in vain.

Commander Leyva and Lieutenant Dorn had only had time to retrofit a hundred and fifty-two missiles. That might seem like an impressive number until you considered the sheer size and defensive capabilities of the alien vessels. Would it be enough to keep the Shixx's attention? Would the weapons even be able to hit their targets when other conventional ones had not? I guess we were about to find out.

"Multiple contacts dropping out of hyper-light," Lieutenant Yorn announced, her voice cutting through the tension. "Admiral Havoreat's fleet is taking position."

The view screen shifted to show the coordinated arrival of fifteen Vanguard vessels, materializing like predators emerging from the depths. The massive warships took formation with practiced precision, their hulls gleaming against the void. At the center, the Retribution—Admiral Havoreat's flagship—dwarfed the others with its imposing silhouette. Markus had called it an Eclipse-class decimator, and it was the biggest ship in the Vanguard fleets. Its angular prow pointed toward the asteroid field like an accusatory finger, weapon ports already cycling open in preparation. The vessel was a frightening sight to behold.

"Tactical readiness reports coming in from all vessels," Lieutenant Yorn reported. "Fleet reports combat ready, weapons systems charged and retrofitted mark 12s are ready to launch."

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I clenched and unclenched my hands, which were hanging at my sides. Part of me still wished I was aboard the Retribution instead of stuck on the Quortous as a bystander. I had been swept up in the whirlwind of the plan to save Rainus over the last few days, and it felt wrong to be on the sidelines instead of being an active participant. At least Commander Leyva was on the Retribution. If there were any problems with the retrofitted Mark 12s, she should be able to take care of it.

"We are receiving telemetry from the Retribution on enemy positions," Lieutenant Yorn said.

"Put it on the screen," Pylor replied.

I watched as the view screen went from a magnified real-time image of the asteroid field to a tactical map showing the positions of Havoreat's fleet and the Shixxaminti ships. The first thing I noticed was the three large red blips indicating the enemy along with dozens of smaller vessels. The Shixxaminti were scattered about the asteroid field like predatory fish hiding among coral reefs. The largest vessel, the one that Wraith's blip now nearly overlapped with the red, was nestled deep within the densest part of the field.

"Three capital ships and thirty-seven smaller craft," Captain Pylor murmured, his white eyebrows drawing together. He obviously didn't like the addition of the new ships.

"We were expecting more," I reminded him. Since the appearance of the unexpected second ship at Sora, it had been almost a certainty that there were more ships that had entered the Empire. The real question was if this was all of them. Were there even more out there somewhere? The thought of it made me start to sweat.

"Sir," Lieutenant Yorn interjected, "the Retribution is signaling the fleet to begin phase one."

On the tactical display, I watched as Havoreat's vessels began to split into three attack wings, executing the maneuver we had planned meticulously. The first wing would engage the outer defensive screen of any smaller vessels present, drawing attention away from the central ship. The second would position themselves to create a corridor through which the third wing could deliver their payload of modified mark 12s directly at the closest larger enemy ship.

"Weapon's fire detected," reported Lieutenant Yorn. "The Shixxaminti are responding."

The tactical display bloomed with indicators of energy discharge as the battle commenced. Even from our position at the edge of the sector, I could see flashes of light in the distance—the silent flares of weapon discharges cutting through the void.

"Magnify sector delta-four," Captain Pylor ordered, his voice steady despite the tension.

The view screen shifted, zooming in on a portion of the battle where three Vanguard vessels were engaging a cluster of smaller Shixxaminti craft. The alien vessels moved with an unsettling organic fluidity, their hulls seeming to ripple and flex as they evaded incoming fire.

"First wave of mark 12s away," Lieutenant Yorn announced.

I held my breath. This was the moment of truth. Either our modifications would work, or this would be a short fight, and our chances of getting Rainus and the infiltration team out alive would plummet drastically.

"Impact in five... four... three... two... one—"

The screen erupted in blinding light as the first missiles hit their target, the brilliant flash reflecting off the metallic hull of the smaller Shixxaminti vessel. The explosions left trails of fiery embers in their wake, engulfing the ship in a pulsing, orange glow.

"Direct hit!" someone shouted. "The mark 12s are penetrating their defenses!"

A flutter of excitement passed through the bridge, and I watched with a mix of relief and awe. The modified missiles weren't just hitting their targets—they were actually doing damage. The organic-looking hull of the smaller Shixxaminti vessel seemed to convulse where the missiles struck, as if the ship itself was experiencing pain.

"It's working," I whispered, scarcely believing what I was seeing.

"The Wraith has docked, and the team is away," Lieutenant Yorn reported, her voice steady despite the excitement rippling through the bridge.

I looked at the green blip of the Wraith. It was completely still now, and it was right on top of the much larger red marker depicting the enemy ship. Markus was in there now, moving through the alien vessel toward his father.

"Second wave of mark 12s launching," Lieutenant Yorn announced. "Larger vessels are shifting position in response."

The tactical display showed the three Shixxaminti capital ships beginning to move, abandoning their previously static positions within the asteroid field. Their movements seemed coordinated yet strangely fluid, like watching a school of massive predatory fish responding to a threat. The largest vessel—the one the Wraith had attached to—was pulling deeper into the asteroid field, using the dense cluster of rocks as a natural shield.

"They're protecting the vessel," Captain Pylor observed, his white eyebrows furrowing. "At least the team's on board now."

Yeah, but what were they facing inside that ship? Markus had worked hard to come up with counterattacks that might help against any enemy they ran across, but I'd seen the recordings of the ground fighting. It had been brutal, with the Shixx warriors cutting down the College defenders without mercy. There was also a strong chance that there were other weapons and defenses we had yet to see from the enemy.

My stomach tightened at the thought of Markus and his team facing those horrors in close quarters. I closed my eyes briefly, trying to sense Markus through our connection. The distance made it difficult, but I could still feel him—determined, focused, alive. That would have to be enough for now.

"Second wave launching," Lieutenant Yorn reported, her voice steady despite the excitement rippling through the bridge. "Target is the second capital ship."

On the tactical display, I watched as another barrage of missiles streaked through the darkness of space, creating bright green streaks in the void. The larger Shixxaminti vessel attempted evasive maneuvers, its hull undulating in that unsettling way, but the mark 12s adjusted their trajectory with effortless precision.

Captain Pylor leaned forward, his white hair catching the green glow of the tactical display. "Commander Leyva's targeting algorithms are performing admirably."

When the missiles struck, the effect was even more dramatic than before. The capital ship's hull seemed to spasm, dark patches spreading across its surface like bruises forming on skin. For the first time since encountering these aliens, we had found a way to deal them some serious damage.

"Sir, we're registering unusual energy fluctuations from the damaged vessel," Lieutenant Yorn reported, her eyes narrowing at her display. "It's… different from standard weapons discharge."

I moved closer to the tactical screen, studying the pulsating patterns emanating from the wounded Shixxaminti ship. The energy signature looked almost like a heartbeat—irregular and frantic.

"What are they doing?" I asked.

"Unknown, Highness," Captain Pylor replied, his voice tight with concentration. "But the smaller vessels are converging on the damaged capital ship. It appears they're forming a defensive perimeter."

The tactical display confirmed his assessment. The swarm of smaller craft was abandoning its previous engagement patterns, clustering around the wounded larger vessel like antibodies rushing to an infection site.

"Incoming communication from the Retribution," Lieutenant Yorn announced, her fingers working quickly across her console.

Admiral Havoreat's face appeared on a secondary screen, his expression a controlled mask of focus. "Your Highness, Captain Pylor. The modified mark 12s are performing beyond expectations. We're maintaining pressure on the enemy fleet, but we've encountered a complication."

I clenched my fists at my sides once more. "What kind of complication, Admiral?"

"The Shixxaminti vessels are adapting to our attack pattern. They're beginning to coordinate their movements in ways that suggest a collective defense strategy. The damage we're inflicting is significant, but diminishing with each volley."

Captain Pylor stepped forward. "Recommendations, Admiral?"

"We need to speed up our timeline. I'm ordering the third wing to concentrate fire on the second capital ship while we maintain pressure on the outer defensive screen. The infiltration team needs to complete its objective within the next thirty minutes. After that, I cannot guarantee we can maintain this level of distraction."

I nodded, trying to project the confidence I wasn't feeling. "Understood, Admiral. Keep us apprised of any developments."

As Havoreat's image disappeared, I closed my eyes again, reaching out once more through the bond. I sent a wordless message of urgency, hoping Markus would understand. The faint impression I received in return felt like determination mixed with... something else. Concern? Fear? From this distance, it was hard to be certain, but I knew one thing: the frantic vibe I got from Markus indicated they were now engaged with the enemy.