Empire's Son: An Epic Science Fiction Novel Series

Excerpt From the Chronicles of Emperor Adar Zahn Tavereus Volume 1 From the Early Years to Ascension Chapter 7 My Introduction to the Protectorate

Earth Edition and Translation © 2278

One of my most vivid memories of my childhood is of my mother yelling at my dad. I had fallen down some stairs and broken my arm and even had a concussion that caused me to forget the entire incident. I never understood the anger of my mother. Accidents happen, right? But she had been nearly venomous toward Dad, which had led to him sleeping on the couch for a month.

After my memories of my time learning quat-lo had been released, I remembered exactly when my arm had been broken, and it hadn't been falling down the stairs. I had been too slow in my movements, so when Dad lashed out at me with a hard hit, my ulna had snapped in two. The pain had been excruciating, so he promptly rushed me to the ER. I had not remembered the incident at the time because, as soon as I left our practice room, the memory had become part of the adaptable lock that held all of my quat-lo training memories.

I knew Dad had not broken my arm on purpose. He had been trying to train me, and part of the training was coming at me with brute force and deadly intention––that was the nature of quat-lo. Even so, I remembered how I felt right after it had happened, and I was not thinking kind thoughts toward my dad.

It wasn't until after my tussle with Captain Hame that I felt gratitude about how hard the training had been, because while the broken arm was the worst of my injuries, it certainly had not been the only one. I also considered it my first genuine peak behind the curtain of what it meant to be a Protector––the toughness and grit that was required, within and without.

I stepped into the living area of my new suite of rooms two mornings after I'd awakened to find Pledge Haxley's throat slashed. It had been a droll two days being stuck inside the chalet with nothing better to do than to go over my lessons with Dur-rele and the quite bland files of the nine––or eight now––Pledges that Vang had chosen for me.

The lessons were at least informative and had been cut into two distinct areas. The first half of our time together Dur-rele would focus on all the Ethian things most Ethians took for granted like how to use the unity rings to send and receive messages and the proper way to hook and wear a long coat, because, apparently, I had been doing it wrong.

He also told me all about the nanite network, which was the Empire's communication and data system that spanned the entire galaxy because of carefully developed and maintained nanite centers positioned at strategic points throughout Ethia. The nanites themselves were microscopic machines that could relay information instantaneously across vast distances, creating what Dur-rele described as "the nervous system of civilization."

The other set of lessons had to do with all the princely things I should have learned as I grew up in the White Palace, but didn't, including the proper protocols of how others should treat me and how I should act in the presence of different individuals, which I found to be confusing and more than a little frustrated about.

As for Vang's files, I felt like I knew the Pledges quite well now, at least based on their College profiles. I had memorized most of the information, especially of the Pledges that stood out to me. I had even taken the liberty of marking two of them off and was ready to let Master Kiev know so he could tell me the appropriate way to inform Captain Dexter.

I had to stop in my tracks as I stepped into the living area as I noticed that one of those I had marked off my Pledge list was standing in a watchful stance out near the balcony. That made me pause and blink. My heart started to race. But he wasn't the only one in the room. There was another Pledge from my list standing in the opposite corner of the room in a similar stance to Gunther's.

I turned and looked around to make sure I was seeing right. The four men from the assault team who had been guarding me (and who rotated out with the other four partway through each day) were gone. Only the two Pledges stood guard now. When had that switch taken place? And why hadn't I been informed of it?

And one of the Pledges I just happened to want marked off my list was on guard.

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Sasseni was the other one I'd decided to ax. I figured I was going to be bonded and trusting the person I chose as my Protector with my life. If there were any hard feelings or misgivings from any of those on my list, then I shouldn't hesitate to mark them off. There were definitely plenty of other candidates to choose from, though it seemed my list of nine had been whittled down to six already.

As I resumed my walk across the room, Gunther proved my decision to mark him off the list a correct one. I could feel his hard gaze on my back as I moved toward the area I had designated the kitchen of the residence. I did my best to ignore the hostility I felt coming off him, but my palms were starting to sweat.

I glanced at Pledge Vasti for reassurance. The tall blond man stood as if he were ready for anything. His feet spread hip-width apart. Arms ready and loose beside him. His eyes actively scanning the room around me. He did stop long enough to give me a slight nod as I approached, and then went right back to letting his raptor gaze scour the room for danger. That made me give a small sigh of relief.

But I didn't let my guard down as I began to fix breakfast. I might have liked Vasti as a possible pick, but I did not know where his true loyalties lay. I was planning on talking with Master Kiev more about him and the other five Pledges to see what his thoughts on them might be. At this point, I trusted his judgment better than mine, only because he knew these men and even taught them. I hoped I didn't look too suspicious as I turned my body to the side so my back wasn't fully to Gunther or Vasti either as I worked.

The area I had dubbed the kitchen wasn't much like a kitchen on Earth. There was no refrigerator or stove or anything of the like. There was simply a bank of shelves where one could find a few stacks of thin white squares that acted as plates and tall white cylinders as cups. There were also utensils to eat with, including what resembled a knife and something that looked a lot like a spork. And then there were the scores of packaged "pellets," as the pack labeled them, which seemed a good descriptive term for the small white beads inside the sealed white pouches.

Each packet had an assortment of foods, and whole meals labeled across the front. A person simply chose one that looked interesting, opened it, and poured the tiny white pellets onto an empty white plate. Then it was just a matter of placing it in a microwave-looking device called a synthesizer. Once the door was closed, the synthesizer lit up and hummed for a few moments. After the light shut off, it was safe to open the device, and steaming hot food sat on the plate where once the pellets had been. It was all quite genius, and I had had a lot of fun trying out the different labels to see what each held.

For this morning's meal, I decided to try one that claimed it was roasted homix with diced freezas and chopped gloru. I knew what freezas and gloru were like. I had both already, and I was a big fan of gloru. It reminded me of a lot of steak.

I pulled my piping hot plate from the synthesizer and took a seat at the large dining table in the middle of the room, trying my best to ignore the man standing near the balcony. But my body tensed even more at the waves of aggression I felt radiating from Gunther.

What the hell was his problem anyway? I sat there for a long moment, pausing over my meal with eyes closed as I tried to digest the emotion I was receiving from the hostile Pledge. It felt heavy, like a weighted blanket that might smother the breath right out of me. It was also thick, like trying to walk through molasses. And there also seemed to be a sharpness to it like… like a knife cutting through a heart, and I got a sudden sense that his aggression toward me was personal.

I opened my eyes and blinked at that last thought. Had I just imagined that last part? Surely I had. Why would his aggression towards me be personal? I had never met this man in my life.

There, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed the data pad I had discarded on the dining table last night. I had to stand up partway to reach for it. Once I had it in my grasp, I sat back down and immediately opened the document with Vang's file of Pledges and scrolled through Gunther's profile, looking for any clues as to what might explain the man's hostility.

While I went through the man's information, I took a bite of what must have been the roasted homix. It was light-colored meat brushed with some sort of seasoning. I paused as I enjoyed the explosion of taste. I sat there for a moment trying to find a comparison to something I had on Earth, but nothing was coming to mind. It was delicate meat like tilapia, but full of a robust taste that made me dig in for another bite.

"Oh my God, this is so good. I'm definitely putting this on my favorites list." I said out loud to no one in particular as I dug in for a third, and then fourth bite, making sure to add some of the freezas and gloru, which only seemed to make the meal even better!

I had devoured most of the food on my plate before I remembered what I was doing. I almost laughed. It was truly a great thing to find food that made you forget your troubles, at least for a few minutes. So far, Ethia had given me several of those moments. It made me realize that, while there were some hard things to accept about this Empire, there were some really great things about this place too.

After my moment of bliss, I plunged back into Gunther's file, determined to solve the perplexing mystery of this Pledge. I was half through the file when I heard the transporter activate, and shortly after, a familiar greeting made me smile and relax considerably.