Lieutenant Commander Worf Novels & Stories

"The Shadow Legion is loyal to him to the point of fanaticism. Alaric—their second-in-command, a wolf who looks like he eats boulders for breakfast—defers to Vesh without question. Whoever is under that mask, he’s earned his rank in blood." ​The tent flap swept open, letting in a gust of cold, rain-scented air.

Orion barked, his aura flaring with an immense, protective dominance as he tracked the movement from the front row. "Negative, Commander," I commanded, gripping his leather-clad forearm before his claws could unsheathe before the VIPS. "Your status belongs at the apex table beside the supreme chieftains—your own technical execution across the border wars earned that territory, and your lineage tracing back to the legendary master of Skyfang Rift Engineering demands your presence in that circle. Do not cause a political uproar over an unpledged stray." "Your voice speaks with absurd submissiveness tonight!" Orion hissed, though he forced his massive frame to remain stationary to prevent a pub

the commander says to me before he leaves. Jareth winks at me as if the commander was joking and then he leaves the office too. I sigh relieved the moment I am alone. After a while of waiting for them to come back, I start to get bored. I look around the office several times. The dark grayish floor, the black furniture, the place is as inhospitable as its owner is intimidating. Behind the commander’s desk, there is a black bookcase where he exhibits his many trophies and decorations. I get up to look at them closely. Golden decoration for bravery, red decoration for service to the Righteous Regime, platinum decoration for risking his life for Estermond... this man has done it all. On one of

"Is it an order?" The corner of his lips rose slightly, something cold flickering in his gaze. "My words are your command. Here, I don't order. I say. You take it as my command." "Roger that." His expression turned cold soon after as he walked toward the military base. A few soldiers rushed to him and saluted before explaining, "The Commander of the Rainfall Wolf Pack is here. And with a good number of warriors." "How did they kill my people?" he asked, his voice icy.

Lucifer came in next on the pecking order, though ze had full authority during any combat maneuvers. Otherwise, hir command was roughly equal to the Rear Admirals. After hir were Jax and Harwood, both frigate captains. And after them were Freya, Xylo, Kali, and Tyretha, all of whom were Squadron and Commando Leaders. Amarok came in at the tail end. Although the wolves were split among the military and civilian halves, she still represented all of them. At least, as best she could.

It was during the end of his shift that the ship's XO walked up to the commander. "Commander Price, got a minute?" "Sure Howard, what've you got?" Colonel Mark Howard was a tough man, a bit smaller than Price and more muscle. Always straight in uniform standing tall he was an intimidating sight to anyone around. A true image of authority. He was a long time friend of the Commander and served together for years. So when the time came for Price to take command and chose an XO, the choice wasn't hard to make.

She resolved and looked away. And It was only then that her words sank in. Did she just fucking say that the Dwarf Commander has abilities? As in magic? I drove my gaze to the Dwarf Commander and in that instance, I saw the proof I needed. The Dwarf Commander was seated on his Dwarf throne and before him knelt a Rogue werewolf who was bound in chains. The Werewolf didn’t look like one of the Rogues. He looked more like a Pack warrior who had been captured. The Dwarf commander had his left hand placed on the Werewolf’s forehead and he was mouthing things that were inaudible while the Werewolf just glared at him. A few seconds later, the Werewolf dropped limply to the, dried up like a scorched

The leading rider stated “I strangely do not recognize you, but you're in the chief commander's amor. What happened to sir Lugar?” I asked “Pardon me for not introducing myself earlier, I am Wolfe, the chief commander of the king's army. And for sure Lugar, let's just say he retired early.” He said and chuckled. The situation was still confusing, but there wasn't time to waste. “I do not see your king, is he in his fancy room whilst your men risk their lives?” I asked mockingly.

We didn't have to wait long. Two hours later, Valtherion walked into my office with Owen on speakerphone. "Confirmed," Owen's voice, tight and clipped. "Purifier squad departed their eastern compound four days ago. Twenty operators. Full tactical loadout. Silver-edged weapons. Magic suppression equipment." "Led by someone the border contacts are calling Commander Elias." My stomach dropped. "Who is Elias?" Valtherion answered. "I pulled his file. Elias Vane. Council's top field commander. Forty-three years old."

Every uniform bore the same emblem—a silver wolf beneath an emerald crown. Matteo frowned. "I've never seen them before." Gabriel whispered, "They're not mercenaries. They're the Royal Guard of Arden." The commander removed his helmet. He was in his late fifties, his face marked with old battle scars. He walked directly toward the elderly Queen and dropped to one knee. "Your Majesty. My apologies," he said. "We arrived later than we should have." The Queen nodded. "You arrived. That is enough." The commander rose before turning to Lorrie. His stern expression softened. For a long moment, he simply looked at her. Then, he knelt again.