Page 39 of Honor Bound

Hutu exhaled sharply, his dark red gaze locked onto Roan’s. The gravity of the moment settled between them like the thin line of a laser beam balanced on a sword’s edge.

“You don’t have to like me,” Roan repeated, voice steady. “Hell, you can kill me after we’re done. But if you don’t listen now, you won’t live long enough to regret it.”

Silence stretched—thick, electric. Hutu’s fingers drummed against his side, his mind visibly calculating the weight of Roan’s words.

Then, finally, he spoke.

“You sound like a man with nothing left to lose.”

Roan’s lips curled—part smirk, part grim truth. “That’s because I don’t.”

* * *

The door to Roan’s cell slid shut with a soft hiss, the sound echoing faintly in the sterile, metallic corridor. Hutu nodded to the guard standing outside of the cell door before he strode away, deep in thought. His footsteps and the hum from the ship were the only noise as he walked away, the dull thud of his boots against the grated floor a rhythmic counterpoint to the chaotic thoughts swirling in his mind.

Roan Landais had the calm, unshaken arrogance of a man used to commanding armies—and yet, beneath the hardened exterior was something else.

Fear? No. Not fear. Urgency.

The kind that didn’t come from self-preservation but from knowing something far worse was on the horizon.

Hutu clenched his jaw, his eyes narrowing as Roan’s words replayed in his head. A weapon that could strip a planet’s atmosphere, leaving it nothing more than a barren rock. It sounded insane. But if there was one thing Hutu knew about the Landais bloodline, it was that they didn’t waste time with fiction.

The corridor opened into the central deck of theTracer.Bright lighting, cleverly concealed to illuminate the corridor without affecting the vision of those inside, cast stark reflections off the polished steel bulkheads. Exposed conduits ran along the ceiling like veins, carrying the pulse of the ship through its narrow arteries. The faint hum of the warship engines vibrated through the floor, steady and constant—a sharp contrast to the growing tension in Hutu’s chest.

He turned sharply, stepping into the officer’s planning room. The space was small but efficient—a tactical console dominated the center, its holographic display flickering softly with star charts and real-time reporting on Legion fleet positions thanks to the numerous rebel informants planted throughout the galaxy. That was how he had known the Legion was converging on Plateau. And how he knew there were more on their way—including none other than Director Andri Andronikos’s personal battalion. Roanna had assured him that Andri would find nothing but oceans when he entered the Plateau airspace and encouraged him to leave before Andronikos arrived.

“The Gallant forces are strong, but his are still greater. Now is not the time to confront him, especially with two Ancients here. You must protect them at all cost.”

Hutu knew the wise leader of the Plateauan’ s was right when he cast a sweeping glance at the bulkheads. They were lined with data screens, pulsing with streams of information. When he had tried to argue, Roanna assured him that her people were not without their own protection.

He sighed as the faint scent of recycled air and a mixture of different beverages from his earlier meeting teased his nostrils. He walked over and poured himself a strong tea before returning to the table. Slowly letting out his breath, he leaned forward and touched the console’s communicator.

“Get me Joshua Manson,” he ordered.

A moment later, the holo-projector flickered, and Josh’s face appeared, rugged as ever, his sharp blue eyes shadowed with exhaustion but still carrying that unyielding spark of defiance. Cassa de Rola was beside him, her dark hair pulled back, her expression focused, yet her expression softened slightly when she noticed Hutu.

“Hutu,” Josh greeted with a curt nod. “I was starting to think you’d fallen off the grid. Any updates?”

Hutu didn’t waste time. “We have found a woman named Julia Marksdale on Plateau.”

He gave a concise rundown—the Legion’s assault, Roan’s capture, Julia’s rescue, and the unexpected arrival of Plateauan forces turning the tide. The details were concise and efficient, but the weight behind them was undeniable.

Josh’s jaw tightened as he listened. When Hutu finished, he leaned forward slightly. “You’ve got Roan Landais in custody?”

“In the detention cell as we speak,” Hutu confirmed, his voice flat.

Josh’s brows furrowed. “And?”

Hutu hesitated, then exhaled sharply. “He told me something… unsettling.”

He relayed Roan’s warning about the weapon—the one capable of destroying entire planets’ atmospheres. As he spoke, he watched Josh’s expression shift from skepticism to cold, calculating focus. Josh frowned and shook his head.

“That’s… insane, but I don’t think he is making it up.”

“Agreed,” Hutu replied. “General Landais isn’t the type to spin wild tales. If he says it’s real, we’d be fools to ignore it.”

Josh nodded slowly. “We need to find out what the weapon is and where it is located. I’m assuming General Landais wasn’t as forthcoming with that information, was he?”

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