Page 19 of Honor Bound

He had once thought himself a man of discipline, of unyielding order. But his marriage to Nia had been the first and only time in his life he had felt trulyout of control.

His hands curled into fists at the thought of her name.

Nia had been everything he was not—gentle, nurturing, full of ideals that had no place in the universe he was trying to shape. Their marriage had been doomed from the start, an inevitable collision of fire and steel. She had dared to defy him, to believe that she could shape Roan into something other than a weapon.

And in the end, it had led to her death.

His lip curled.Not that it had done me any good. Roan still turned out soft. Too much of his mother in him.

He had tried to beat it out of him, to harden him, to carve away the fragile ideals he had inherited from her people. Except, he had never been able to fully break his son. Roan had resisted in ways both small and significant—questioning orders, hesitating at the wrong moments, pushing back just enough to remind Coleridge that his son was not an empty vessel waiting to be filled.

And now, Roan was gone, slipping through his fingers like the red Torrian sand.Just as had his mother.

He activated his command console, his fingers tapping a sequence into the encrypted line.

A moment later, Dorane LeGaugh’s face flickered onto the screen. The space pirate was exactly as he expected—leaned back, smirking, a glass of something dark and expensive in hand.

“Well, if it isn’t General Landais,” Dorane drawled, his voice rich with amusement. “I was wondering when you’d come knocking.”

Coleridge’s expression remained impassive. “I’m in need of information, and you’re a man who tends to find himself in the middle of it.”

Dorane swirled the contents of his glass, looking entirely unbothered. “I hear a lot of things. But information comes at a price.”

Coleridge leaned forward slightly, his fingers steepling as he studied the pirate’s lazy demeanor. “I’m prepared to offer a significant reward for intelligence regarding the recent pods—who was inside them, where they landed, and who may have made contact with them.”

Dorane raised an eyebrow, his smirk deepening. “Ah, yes, the pods. Quite the hot topic these days. You wouldn’t believe the number of whispers circulating through the black markets about them. People seem…interested.”

Coleridge’s jaw tightened. “Areyouinterested?”

Dorane’s grin widened. “I’d be a fool not to be. A lost ship, mysterious survivors, the possibility of something ancient and powerful? Sounds like a legend in the making.”

Coleridge’s patience was thinning. “Legends don’t concern me. Facts do.” He leaned forward, his voice sharp. “I’m offering a substantial amount of credits. Enough to make sure your ships stay fueled and your ports remain open for quite some time.”

Dorane hummed in mock consideration. “Tempting. But information is tricky, General. Sell it too soon, and it loses its value. Hold onto it too long, and someone else gets there first. Then, there is the trust factor of making sure your sources aren’t compromised. My informants tend to purse their lips when they find out the Legion is involved.” He took a slow sip of his drink before setting the glass aside. “So, tell me, what exactly do you want to know?”

Coleridge kept his focus locked on the pirate. “I want names. Locations. The identities of the rebel factions who may have taken an interest in the pods. And I want to know where my son is.”

Dorane’s smirk remained, but something in his eyes shifted. “Your son,” he mused. “Now thatisinteresting. I take it he’s… gone rogue?”

Coleridge’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Roan has made a series of questionable decisions. If you happen to hear where he’s gone, I expect to be informed.”

Dorane tilted his head. “And if I choose to keep my knowledge to myself?”

Coleridge’s tone turned icy. “Then you’ll be gambling against the Legion’s reach, and I assure you, that’s not a bet you want to take. You may be powerful, Dorane, but even you cannot stand against the might of the Legion.”

Dorane chuckled, but there was an edge to it. “Oh, General. You always did know how to make an offer sound like a threat.”

Coleridge didn’t flinch. “You’ll contact me when you have something?”

“I’ll be in touch,” Dorane said easily, giving a lazy salute before the transmission cut out.

Coleridge exhaled, his fingers tightening on the armrests of his chair. He didn’t trust Dorane, but the pirate had his uses. Andri might be a brute, but Coleridge preferred subtlety. Information was power, and he intended to have it before the next move was made.

The soft chime of an incoming report interrupted his thoughts. He tapped the screen, scanning the message. His blood ran cold.

Intel suggests Roan has traveled to Plateau. Source unknown.

Coleridge’s hands curled into clenched fists.So, it’s true.Roan had returned to his mother’s people.

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