Majesty's Offspring (Book 1)

It had been a long time since Julius sat in the Navigation Module. His fingers ran across the smooth surface of the control panel. A sudden tinge of nervousness shot up through his hands as he pre-programmed the ship maneuver into the navigation computer. He had forgotten about this feeling—being in direct control of a vital function of the ship. Things were different when you were the very instrument of the captain’s command. The anticipation and tension from the responsibility was refreshing to him and it made him feel alive again.

  “Friendly targets firing,” Garval said.

  Julius looked up from his station at the main viewscreen.

  Flashes of blue energy lanced out from the lead pilot shuttle—Mac’s ship. The beams converged onto the UEP troop transport, just as it was within meters of docking with the Sea Wolf. The transport stopped its approach and turned away to face the shuttle. He could see a weapons platform rise up from its dorsal spine, the tips of missile warheads extruding from it.

  It was now or never. Julius issued a command to the navigation computer to run the pre-programmed maneuver.

  “Brace for collision!” he warned.

  The claxon from the collision alarm drowned out the ambient sounds of the bridge. Up on the main viewscreen, he could see the port, dorsal section of the ship along with a close-up of the UEP troop transport ship closing in to dock.

  The Sea Wolf made a sudden hard roll to the starboard. The port half of the Sea Wolf’s saucer-like hull collided with the UEP troop transport, swatting it away like a fly. The small ship drifted away and spun into space out of control, leaving swirling trails of leaking gas in its wake.

  Julius could hear the sound of the hull plating absorb the impact—the damage would be heavy for the transport but superficial to the Sea Wolf. The friendly shuttles would now be safe from any counterattack by the UEP transport.

  “Now changing course to Martian fleet, flank speed,” Julius said.

  The viewscreen spun around and the Martian Confederacy battle group was now at their bow. The Sea Wolf’s engines pushed them rapidly toward it.

  “Ramey—tell Jessen to get the reactor online.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  “Friendlies in position behind us—matching course and speed,” Garval reported.

  “Captain, I’m receiving a communication from the Martian fleet,” Jared said. “They are requesting that we transmit to them the identities of the refugees immediately. They are also instructing us to hold our position until they can validate the information and to allow the Confed transport to dock with us.”

  Julius knew they would call their bluff at some point, but he was ready for it.

  “Transmit to them random identities from the crew manifest—deceased crew members of non-Martian descent.”

  Jared ran his hands across his module’s panel. “How many do I transmit, sir?”

  “How many match that criteria?” Julius asked.

  Jared looked down at his station. “One hundred and twelve.”

  Julius observed the somber expressions from the officers and he felt his own heart sink. Had they really lost so many over the years?

  “Transmit half of it,” Julius said quickly. “Their deaths will buy us the time we need to live. We will maintain our course and speed.”

  “Yes, Captain,” Jared said.

  Julius opened a conference link to Engineering.

  “Jessen, how are we doing on the reactor?”

  There was a delay before he answered. “On stage three, sir.”

  Julius felt like cursing, but he knew it would not be good for the crew to see their captain distressed.

  “Let me know the moment it is up and charging the capacitor.”

  “Sir,” Jared began. “The Confed is repeating its demand for us to allow the transport to dock. They have also warned us that any attack on the transport or its occupants would have serious consequences.” He paused for a moment and raised an eyebrow before continuing. “There is a diplomat aboard it.”

  “A diplomat?” Julius repeated.

  Jared nodded.

  Julius ran his hands across the controls. “Coming to full stop. Tell the Confed we are accepting their boarders, but we need some protection.”

  Jared sent the message and paused. “No response yet.”

  “Well, let’s hope their moral compass is still functional,” Julius said. “Garval, get our friendlies on board.”

  “Aye, sir. Already working on it.”

  A sudden flash on the screen blinded them, followed by another series of flashes from explosions across the battle line. A deluge of fire erupted from the UEP fleet toward the Confederacy, which retaliated with its own barrage of fire. The screen was awash in multicolored energy weapon exchanges and explosions—the war between the two great powers had begun.

  Julius tried to make out the tactical data on the screen, but there was too much activity to get a clear picture.

  “I need that tactical cleared up. Narrow the targeting computer’s sensor cone to only the significant and closest threats.”

  “Aye, sir.” Ramey’s hands seemed to struggle against the panel for a moment. “Done, sir.”

  On the main screen, Julius could see letter designations appear over some of the ships. The Martian Confederacy fleet appeared to be moving toward the Sea Wolf in a wall formation, with the closest ships attempting to shield them from the enemy fire.

  So far, the UEP ships had sent nothing in their direction, but the Venusians were closing in on their craft. The Confed fleet was trying to get its ships positioned quickly enough to block their approach, but the Venusian ships were smaller and more agile—it would only be a matter of time before they got past them.

  “Status of friendlies?” Julius asked.

  “Last of them have landed,” Garval reported. “The Martian transport is now on landing approach.”

  “Get the crew to their duty stations as soon as they unload. Get the pilots into their fighters immediately. And I want Murdock down in Engineering to relieve Jessen.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  “Ramey—have a security detail meet the Martian ship when it lands. Order the team to make no aggressive gestures. We will quarantine them in their ship until we are out of this quagmire.”

  “Aye,” Ramey responded.

  “Captain,” Garval said. “I’m being told Murdock is not among the crew.”

  Julius took in a breath. “What about Laina?”

  Garval shook his head. “She’s not with them either, sir. Others are missing as well.”

  Julius felt his heart sink. Could she be dead or captured?

  “What about the pilots? How many of them?” Julius asked.

  “Reece is not with them. Eddie is seriously injured.”

  “Understood. Carry on with your orders.”

  “Captain! The Venusians have slipped through,” Ramey pointed to the screen. “They are on intercept vectors toward us.”

  Julius looked up at the viewscreen and saw it zoom in on the squadron of Venusian fighters. It was a dozen strike fighters, and the tactical overlays showed each loaded with a compliment of antimatter bombs. If they managed to get close enough to release their payload, it would only take a couple of hits to decimate the Sea Wolf.

  A beep chimed from his communication panel; it was Engineering.

  “Captain, reactor is now fully running. Approximately ten minutes before we can get the capacitor charged up.”

  “Good work, Jessen. How much power can you give me for combat?”

  “Only enough for shields, sir—no weapons array.”

  “If we keep shields down, will it recharge quicker?”

  “Negative, sir. The capacitor can only recharge up to a certain rate—more power will not help.”

  “Very well. Let me know the moment the capacitor is ready for a jump. Garval—status of pilots?”

  Garval did not answer and was looking down at his station wearing a frustrated
expression.

  “Garval, status?”

  “Sorry, sir. We only have three pilots available. They are getting ready to launch now. The Martian transport is also on board.”

  Julius looked up at the incoming Venusian fighters. “Get them out there, Lieutenant. Quickly. And link me to their channel.”

  “Aye, sir,” Garval responded. “Linked.”

  “Pilots, this is your captain. Do you read me?”

  “Aye, Captain,” Mac’s voice came on. “Loud and clear!”

  “I trust you understand that our weapons array is not functioning. You are our only defense at this point. If those bombs slip through, we are sunk. The Sea Wolf is counting on you.”

  “Yes, we understand. We won’t let you down, Captain,” one of them responded.

  “You better not—because I’ll be sure to kick your undisciplined asses out of the Milky Way Farm if you do. Watch your six and use your luck out there.”

  “Use our what, sir?” Mac came back.

  “Use your—just good luck, pilots!”