Space Marine 2 Emperor Novels & Stories

That may be good for Aakifahlynn because she does have some questions for him now that she remembers him from her last timeline and what was revealed the other night. They have much to discuss, but they may revisit after the war. Why would an Emperor risk being locked up in a dungeon? He spent years imprisoned, so what were his people doing then? How did he even know about the timelines? These were just some of the things that plagued her mind. "It's no problem," Demarion answers, ushering them all out the door. But she decided to drop it for now. "Oh Goddess, this is magnificent and huge," Aakifahlynn was staring at the largest sea transport she'd ever seen, a luxurious vessel that seemed t

Chris waved his hand in defeat as he excused Night Mage. Chris and his team of elites changed into their alter ego uniforms and marched through the basement into the combat aircraft that was used solely for purposes of the Night Empire business. The aircraft travelled its usual course underground till it reached the ocean and then converted to a submarine to travel the rest before emerging in the middle of the ocean, converting into a super speciality aircraft as it rose in altitude.

Spy satellites mostly, mined by tiny self propelled robots and rigged to blow. The response was a little slower than Salom had expected. Were the mutineers napping? Or was their chain of command subject to the same sort of carefreeness that hers was? They had all come up through the same system, so the question was stupid. The naval officer shrugged, ordered her ships to attack, and said a little prayer. It was silent, but Roman read her lips. The "Amen" was hers. * * * The lights were red, to protect their night vision, and purposely dim. Marco watched his troops through half closed eyes, noting how those seated in close proximity to him handled the stress.

And it is only that thought that consumes me as I keep pumping rapidly towards any moving thing that does not look like a Marine or a Marine vehicle itself. We cannot do what we do best. We cannot go out there and fight, so we will do what we do second best…We do not leave a man behind. We will not be left behind today. And that is what definitely gets pressed firm into my head as I watch a Marine tanker come towards us with a Cobra hovering above head.

I say nothing as I make my way pass her and walk through the room to the mini bar with lined up of different brands of alcohol in the plain glass shelf. She follows me silently, since that is what I am going with, and waited. Join the army? I huff inwardly. I am not fucking saying shit about it. And there is no fucking way I’m letting her join the army. If there will be any need for war against the Sasquatch, I won’t be in the field fighting and also worrying if my mate is safe. I pick out a bottle of scotch that’s almost half way gone and unscrew the lid.

​The Manta-Class carrier was never designed for deep-space travel. It was a creature of the atmosphere, a predator of the clouds and the neon-lit canyons of Neo-Tokyo. But as the Siberian ice fell away beneath them, Ren was pushing the ship’s fusion core into the "Red Zone," a dangerous over-clocking of the Miller-tech that caused the cockpit’s holographic displays to flicker with a warning violet light.

The air smelled of spices and smoke, thick with the alpha's commanding presence even before he entered. He strode in like he owned the world—which, in a way, he did. Tall, broad-shouldered, with muscles that strained against his fitted black shirt, Major Lazer exuded raw dominance. His dark hair was cropped short, his jaw sharp and shadowed with stubble, and those piercing green eyes scanned the room like a predator sizing up prey. I kept my gaze down, as trained, focusing on the polished floor as I approached his table. My hands trembled slightly as I set the plate before him, the scent of the food mingling with his own intoxicating alpha musk—earthy, commanding, making my omega instincts s

Immediately, the captain ordered the carriage to move even faster, and the coachman, terrified, increased the carriage’s speed. “Stop!” GRAAAAAAARRRR “Damn it, they’re attacking!” the captain shouted, realizing they were suddenly trapped in a horde of monsters. The carriage had come to a sudden halt because they saw a monster ahead, and monsters were also emerging from the bushes to their left and right. Tian Sen was quite surprised to see all the monsters emerging from the bushes; they were all level-two monsters, with one monster at level three. “This is going to be trouble! Level three—and that’s the intermediate stage—there’s no way I can fight it,” said Tian Sen, feeling it was impossib

The Custodian interrupts. The vessel will arrive regardless of your preference. Ezra’s jaw tightens. “And if we refuse contact.” The being answers. They will likely attempt communication with the bridge directly. Matteo mutters. “So they call Aidan’s brain.” “Yes.” I run a hand through my hair. “This is getting ridiculous.” Severiel walks closer to the projection. The organic ship rotates slowly as it travels through space. Small structures extend from its surface like antennae made of living crystal.

We slam onto the outer docking ring—boards biting metal hard, sparks flying, gravity shifting sudden. Airlock cycles forced by my lightning—sparks dancing across panels. We step inside. Armed marines in power armor swarm the corridor—rifles up, visors down, red targeting lasers dancing on our chests. **Marine Sergeant (barking, voice amplified):** “Hands up! Identify yourselves! This is restricted military space!” I step forward slow. Crown flaring bright—violet lightning crawling the walls harmless, just enough to short their targeting systems and fry nearby cameras.