Star Wars Sovereign Protector Novels & Stories

He looked at me, then at the boy in my arms. "Raffy," Ignatius croaked. "We need to go. Now." "The van is waiting," Julian said, gesturing to the lead SUV. "The boy travels in the armored unit. You and the Demon follow in the second." "No." I shifted Leo’s weight. "The boy stays with me. Always." "The protocol—" "I am the protocol, Julian." I walked past him. "I’m the Sovereign. Remember?" A flash of movement caught the corner of my eye. High up. The Teufelsberg towers. A glint of glass.

I wanted to be the only thing he saw in the ruins. "You are mine," he murmured against my mouth, his breath ragged. "In the flesh, in the wire, and in the light." The Sovereign fleet descended, a hundred ships aiming their extraction beams at the deck to tear us apart before the merge could finalize. The white light was blinding, a wall of antiseptic fire closing in. Dante didn't reach for his sword. He didn't reach for the console. He simply held me tighter, our joined, bleeding hands held between our hearts.

water, superheated by the earth’s core, shimmered in his floodlights like liquid diamonds. "The 'Sovereign' drones are circling back," Leo warned, his voice rising in "Tension." "They’ve detected the 'Kinetic' displacement of your movement. You have four minutes before they 'Re-Index' your location and deploy the 'Neural-Harpoons.'"

The starport became a fortress. The full might of the detachment from Heaven's fleet could be seen. Tanks, bipedal mechanical machines called 'Walkers' and gun emplacements stood behind rows after rows of ADF soldiers crouching behind sandbags. They were joined by their Protectorate brethrens, providing support whenever they can. The road around them were stained in blood and littered with green skinned corpses in zirobuta-oroi. Until now, no one can penetrate the starport's defenses. Even with the V'rounian gods' help, they ended up withdrawing because they could not defeat the Protectorates on site.

A chill ran down my spine as I remembered this feeling. It was a lot like how I felt just before I went into labor with Caden. The thought of my son made me think of the orphans back in the rogue camp and all the children who didn’t have someone to look out for them and bring them some place safe, like Caden. “You have to protect the children. There can’t be any more children who fall victim to this war.” I didn’t realize I’d spoken out loud until Kalen took my hand in his. “We will. No matter what happens here, we’ll be there to protect them.”

"And more importantly, I know the **prophecy.**" I tensed up. His eyes shone brightly. Now he had me. The Nightclaw Alpha's eyes narrowed. "The prophecy is nothing but an old tale—" "Oh, but it isn’t," Garrick cut in, laughingly cocking his head. "It's really authentic. And you are aware of it. We were enveloped in silence. He returned his focus to me, his face changing, becoming almost pity-like. "You think the Nightclaws will protect you," he replied. "You believe this is a safe place for you. But Selene, you're mistaken. He lowered his voice to a near whisper. "You are not one of them. You are a member of the Eclipse Coven.

“They’re coming. I can hear the hum of their phased-shift units.” The breach happened with a sound like tearing silk. Four "Sovereign" commandos materialized in the center of the gallery, their armor glowing with a faint, pulsing violet light. They were equipped with "Aether-Blades"—weapons that could cut through reinforced steel as if it were paper. They looked at Marcus and Elena with a clinical, arrogant detachment, as if they were merely clearing away rubble. “Step aside, Smith,” the lead commando said, his voice synthesized and cold. “The 'Total Harvest' is a legal and genetic inevitability. You are merely an obstruction in the flow of the Sovereign grid.”

Behind us, two secondary tactical interceptor craft cut through the spray, their engines roaring like hunting beasts in the tropical storm. On the optical tactical display inside the wheelhouse, the high-value cargo carrier L.V. Sovereign was dead ahead, lit up like a sitting duck on radar. Surrounding her were four unflagged, heavy-armored fast-attack craft—Damian Vance’s private mercenaries, flying rogue colors and maintaining a lethal chokehold perimeter in international waters. "They just painted our hull with fire-control radar," the tactical officer called out over the blare of storm alarms. "Commander, the lead mercenary vessel is hailing us on the open channel."

Harrison said. “No. I came here to do the job, and that is what I am going to do. This won't be the first time I have to fight my emotions to complete a mission,” Hayden said. “Besides, I’m a rogue. Chances are she will reject me, so it won’t matter.” “I can swear you back into the pack. I’ll do it right here and now if you have a knife on you,” Harrison offered.

"And so is your career." ​Julian looked at Maya, seeing the quiet, absolute signal in her eyes. He didn't snap Holloway’s neck. Instead, with effortless, terrifying strength, he hurled the traitor across the bridge floor. Holloway slammed hard against the base of the navigation console, coughing violently as he clutched his bruised throat, blood dripping from his lip. ​"Marcus," Julian commanded, stepping over to stand beside Maya, his arm sliding around her waist, pulling her flush against his side. "Signal Director Chen. The Harrington Sovereign is secure. Tell his boarding officers to come collect the traitor."