Moiroi Star-Kingdom

  Celestial Knight: Book One

  Author: D. R. Rosier

  Copyright 2022. This is a work of fiction. Names, Characters, Places and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons living or dead, is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without permission.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three – Interlude

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine - Interlude

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen – Interlude

  Chapter Sixteen

  Afterword:

  About the Author

  Other erotic fantasies by D. R. Rosier:

  Non-erotic Fantasy titles:

  Book Description

  Chapter One

  The bridge of the Battleship Eagle was tense and focused, as the crew readied the ship for space fold exit. He noticed Lieutenant Jeffries at the magical navigation console looked a little strained, but that wasn’t unusual for a flight wizard at the end of their shift. It took a lot of effort to maintain the space-fold spell that allowed faster than light travel between star systems, even with the magical device amplification built into the very frame of the ship.

  FTL might be possible without magic one day, but at the moment the theoretical power requirements were somewhere around what a star put out, something they couldn’t possibly duplicate through pure science.

  Dacen Black corrected his thought, magic was science in a real measurable way according to his training, a part of the universe and a force that could be measured. It was the biological component of a caster that couldn’t be duplicated by EM force science.

  The only other system on the ship that the wizard staff officers were absolutely required for was artificial gravity systems that had to be recharged on a daily basis. That too was theoretically possible without magic, but the energy requirements were off the scale. Not quite as intense as a space fold, but still far beyond the abilities of their fusion plants to power.

  That wasn’t to say those two tasks were all they did on one of his majesty’s warships. Required or not, the sickbay was also run by a healer, magic was much faster at regenerating a human body than traditional medical science alone, and far more reliable.

  Regardless, the ship had been tasked to break a smuggler’s ring. Weapons were being smuggled onto several of the Moiroi Star-Kingdom worlds and put into the hands of dissidents. The king had sent him along to run the mission, to the captain’s annoyance.

  The king tended to frown on dissidents fomenting rebellion, so he’d sent the very best.

  Wizards and healers could feel and control raw magic, but they needed devices to organize that magic to a purpose. Weapons, shields, healing a body, or anything else. Humans with those powers were rather common, almost one percent of the population.

  Dacen was a Celestial Knight, which was far rarer. There were only nine of those among the twenty-two worlds in the Moirai Star-kingdom, not including his majesty’s family, and each and every one of them were sworn to the king directly and trained in the secret arts. A celestial magic user could do what the others could not, and directly organize the raw magic toward a purpose without the aid of a device. They were also the most powerful class of magic users, though a wizard on the top end of the power scale would be a match for one, if they were prepared and had the right devices on hand for a duel of arcane energies. Wizards were greatly varied in strength and staying power or magical stamina, while the knights tended to all be about the same, on the edge of what was possible.

  He reported directly to the king, and he had authority to override the captain if necessary, but he’d never actually used it. So, he wasn’t entirely sure why Captain Rylan Forester seemed to dislike him so much. Except… maybe it had something to do with the fact he’d been pounding the first officer into blissful oblivion on a nightly basis. Commander Brenda Vila was a hell of a woman, and an accomplished lover. Maybe Rylan was just jealous and had a thing for her or something.

  He had tried to be discrete about it, there was a morale consideration, but the truth was that Dacen Black never could turn down the attentions of a beautiful woman. He was also good at making them come back for more, as his magic tended to guide his senses and he gave them exactly what they wanted, as only a familiar and longtime lover usually could. He was just as sure the size of his package had something to do with keeping them coming back as well. On the high side of average, he’d been told more than once he was the perfect size, just short of being too big.

  As a rare and powerful celestial knight with authority only the king could gainsay, he seemed to draw more than his fair share of those beautiful woman, and his good looks, relative youth at twenty-three, and toned musculature surely didn’t hurt that equation either.

  It’d been a long boring mission, after all, and the dark brunette beauty had made a delightful distraction, no strings attached. Most women that went for him had ulterior motives, but Brenda hadn’t even asked for his recommendation on the next promotion round to make captain. She was… a force to be reckoned with, and she had earned her way with talent and intelligence to that second place on the ship. He was fairly sure in his case, he was just a temporary boytoy in her mind, which had been kind of fun and unexpected these last two months.

  They’d slogged from world to world to find the suppliers. They’d identified the mercenary group out of the free planet systems doing the deliveries, and they’d followed those mercenaries to various other suppliers of black-market weapons, and to their drop off locations throughout the star-kingdom.

  Finally, they were about to act. If it went to plan, they’d catch the illegal sale in progress, the buyers, and put down the smugglers in one fell swoop. They were only about a half-hour behind their prey. Their ship was one of many in the final act, other battleships had been tasked to take down the others involved in the other systems, as they’d passed on the intelligence to the capital system, Bright Star.

  Which was why the bridge was so energized, as they got closer and closer to the Dragos system. This battle was a long time in coming.

  The problem was he was getting a bad feeling. The closer they got to Dragos the more he could sense the danger. Like the sensation of someone walking across his grave, wherever that would end up being. He tried to focus and shape the magic to be more sensitive to the near future, but it didn’t really help clarify anything.

  “Captain.”

  Forester turned to him with cold eyes, “What is it, Celestial Black.”

  He paused for a moment. He wasn’t the most accomplished at reading the flows into the future, not like some of the other Celestial Knights. They all had their own specialties where they excelled, and Black’s fortes were body magic, controlling the four elements, shielding, and teleportation. There were far more other possibilities, but he’d never been more than adequate with other magical disciplines. He was a warrior, and a lover, not a mystic or scientist by nature. But he was fairly sure something was about to go horribly wrong with the mission.

  He was however, quite accomplished at projecting casual confidence. Perhaps another reason he attracted so many lovely ladies in the course of living his life.

  “I suggest we leave the space-fold with shield and weapon systems active, captain.”

  Forester shook his head, “Our ship will be lit up like a beacon if we do that. We could lose our quarry if they go dark, and also fail to discover the identity of the dissident faction members on Dragos.”

  The word idiot was implied at the end of the captain’s sentence, but of course the older man was far too professional to say that out loud. But the bridge crew had surely picked up the implied subtext.

  He replied, “I have a bad feeling about it. We’ve been trailing them for two months in stealth operations mode, but that doesn’t preclude the possibility we were picked up and identified. It’s entirely possible we’re about to exit the space-fold and find ourselves in an ambush.”

  Forester’s eyebrows went up, “Possible?”

  He grimaced, “I can’t see one way or the other, I just know something is about to go wrong.”

  Forester shrugged, “Could it be nerves?” implying he was a coward.

  Must’ve been jealousy, the man couldn’t normally be this much of a dick and have been promoted to captain. He used a little magic to calm down. He was a celestial, and those with that much power couldn’t afford to be seen as volatile or reactionary. He’d never been able to master the professional non-expression most used, so had taken a path of casual and relaxed confidence in all his dealings.

  The one flaw in that approach was many people in his majesty’s service interpreted that as him being flip and not serious about anything. Which, wasn’t true. For the most part. But appearances were everything in this life, reality always took a back seat to subjective perception. It often rubbed very serious people wrong, but at the same time at least they were never frightened he’d go off the handle.

  He shook hi
s head and waved casually, “I’ve been in battles before, and I’ve never felt anything like it pressing on my mind. I can make it an order, but I’d prefer your cooperation.”

  Jeffries interjected, “Thirty seconds to exit, captain.”

  The captain frowned, “That risks the operation, and you have no proof we’re in danger.”

  He nodded, “Except the operation is likely already blown, at least our part of it. Do it, captain. The responsibility is mine.”

  If he was wrong, the king wouldn’t be pleased with him for throwing out a two-month mission right when it was about to payoff. But it seemed likely to him the dissident faction on Dragos wouldn’t be in evidence, and all they’d be facing is a trap set by the Viartan Mercenary Group out of the free planets.

  The free planets were truly an anarchy, and it comprised ten planets. No central government, and the local worlds were run by the modern equivalent of the mob. As a result, there were a lot of shady groups that worked out of those worlds. From mercenaries, some of which turned to piracy on occasion to improve the bottom line, to merchants and black-market products.

  They were a thorn in the side of the kingdom, but they were also useful in a lot of ways. The Grand Communion, a theocracy of sixteen worlds, and the Leshien Confederacy which had nineteen worlds, also didn’t seem interested in annexing those worlds. It would be far more expensive and far more trouble than it was worth, to put those worlds and the crazy people on it to heel. Those made up the four interstellar governments of the human race in their corner of the galaxy.

  There was also no way to verify if there was a trap or not. They did have FTL communications, but the technology didn’t work while they were cocooned in a space fold and moving at faster than light speeds. Often the first thing a ship did when reaching a destination was to sync with the closest communication satellite, for any messages waiting for delivery. Active FTL comms only worked in normal space, so they couldn’t query the local Dragos patrol ships on if there were any ships lingering near the FTL exit line.

  In short, all they had to go on was his feeling of impending doom. Time was also running out quickly.

  The order hung there for a moment, then the captain sneered, and his voice was full of contempt, “I name you a coward. I have friends in Bright Star, and they told me you’re not in favor with the king. This mission is beneath a true Celestial Knight of the kingdom, and nothing but a punishment to get you away from the capital world. I won’t throw away this mission and all our efforts on the word of a careless man that has lost his nerve, if you ever had it in the first place.”

  He hadn’t expected that. The captain refusing a legal and royal order out of anger and because of unsubstantiated rumor. He didn’t speak for the king directly, but he did have the same authority that a prince or princess of royal blood would enjoy. The only difference was he and the eight other knights weren’t in the line of succession for throne.

  It was true that King Andros wasn’t all that happy with Dacen at that time, but it had nothing to do with his service and was personal in nature. It might’ve even been true he’d been sent on this mission to get him off world for a while, but he still had the authority of his knighthood and the backing of the king. Everything else the captain had said was an incorrect assumption based on his dislike since he’d boarded this ship sixty-one days ago, married with false rumors and speculation that constantly surrounded those like him and the royal family. Rumors an experienced captain should’ve dismissed.

  If they didn’t die, the captain had just ruined his career, and it was even likely he might be hung for it.

  If the king had truly removed all of his support, he would no longer be a knight and would likely have been killed. No one of his power could be allowed to be independent of the direct authority of the king.

  Thoughts of the true reason he’d been assigned here were a distraction, and he pushed it out of his head.

  It was too late to argue his points, not that it would’ve worked anyway. The captain had judged him and the situation incorrectly, and Rylan Forester would not relent to logic. Dacen may not be good at reading the flows into the future, but he was a savant at reading people through the body magic. Not just in bed with his partners.

  The captain had also technically, just committed mutiny, and there were maybe five seconds left before they exited the space fold at the FTL line. The FTL line was the limit of the magic, they couldn’t maintain the fold any closer to the sun or their target world. They’d have to cross the last few light minutes with conventional plasma thrusters.

  He looked over at the tactical officer, and he immediately discarded the idea of giving the lieutenant commander a direct order bypassing the captain. The whole bridge crew had been caught up in the captain’s disgust. Even Brenda was looking at him doubtfully, and she was likely wondering if she’d misjudged him. To be fair to her, her captain probably made a lot of good decisions most of the time.

  He’d just have to hope he was wrong, but he knew he wasn’t susceptible to simple nerves before a battle causing flights of imagination and fear. He neither feared nor thirsted for battle, but he did enjoy the challenge of it when it came uninvited. The thrill and anxiety of it was a rush.

  So he stood up and moved a little closer to Brenda as he looked toward the main screen on the bridge. Two more seconds.

  The Eagle warship exited the space fold returning to normal space. In stealth operations mode nothing that emitted EM energy was used, including the active sensors. But the passive sensors would pick up any ships running hot very quickly.

  The captain said, “Report, where is the Viartain ship?”

  The sense of imminent doom was so strong in that moment that he was sure the captain had just uttered his last words in this life. He moved with alacrity toward Brenda who looked up at him with doubts and confusion.

  Her eyes widened in shock as he grabbed her hand and pulled her up and into his side. The strong magics started to flow through his body, and it gave him a false sense of invulnerability and godhood. He felt like he could do anything, but he knew by experience that feeling was a lie. He was among the most powerful, but he could be overwhelmed by multiple wizards, or even a single wizard with rare power. Hell, a few dozen royal marines with blasters could give him a really bad day.

  The tactical officer said, “Missiles incoming captain! We have six ships off our starboard flank, and a full dozen off of our bow. All Viartan mercenary…”

  The rest of the officer’s words went unheard, as with an act of will he put a shield around them both and then teleported from the ship.

  Brenda snarled, “You bastard, take us back!”

  He shook his head and pointed, as a chain of explosions went off along the starboard side and bow of the large warship. Even with the shields, it wouldn’t have been enough. Eighteen mercenary corvettes were more than a match for a single battleship, even if one on one the battleship had a throw weight of six to one in its favor.

  Without the shields up, they didn’t have a chance in hell of surviving that ambush, and a split second later the Eagle exploded violently as the missiles’ destruction found and breached the plasma core of one of the fusion plants.

  Brenda glared at him.

  He was beyond pissed as well, both at the mercenaries and the captain whose refusal to follow a legal order just got his ship destroyed and crew killed. But he was so used to controlling that anger it wouldn’t be apparent to anyone else.

  He shrugged, “Don’t glare at me. The mercenaries are at fault, as is your late captain for ignoring my warning. I might’ve been able to save the ship with a skip teleport, if I’d had a few seconds before the shields fell. Pull it together, commander. I need a partner to watch my back and a witness to the clusterfuck that just happened on the bridge. I chose you to live, deal with it.”

  She looked shocked for a second, then stiffened, “Yes, sir.”

  “That’s better, and the badass woman I’ve come to know. Pull that firearm, this mission isn’t over yet.”

  He truly hadn’t saved her just because he cared about her, or because he’d been pounding her every night until she came beautifully for him for the last sixty days and had fond memories of their shared pleasure. She was a badass, and even a celestial knight needed someone to watch his or her back. That said, he could admit that had been part of the equation, he hadn’t wanted any of them to die, but her a whole lot less than the others. It was a cold decision, but one he’d been trained to make. Battlefield triage. If he could’ve saved them all, he would’ve.