Page 41 of Honor Bound

CHAPTERELEVEN

The warships arrived like specters of death, casting elongated shadows over the tranquil ocean below. Director Andri Andronikos stood at the viewport of his personal command vessel, his sharp gaze scanning the expanse of blue, his jaw tightening with every passing second. The floating islands were gone. At least those that had been inhabited. All that remained were the small, less fertile ones.

He turned to his officer, his voice razor-thin with control. “Confirm.”

“Majority of the landmasses have submerged, Director. No sign of the Ancient Knight. No confirmation of General Landais,” the officer reported, his voice clipped and professional, though there was no mistaking the undercurrent of unease.

Andri’s lips pressed into a tight line. Another failure. Another embarrassment.

His anger was a cold, calculating thing, sinking deep into his bones. He had tolerated his half-brother’s shortcomings before. This, however, was inexcusable.

With the deliberate slowness of a man who did not need to rush to assert his power, he turned on his heel. “Prepare my shuttle. I will see my brother personally.”

The officer hesitated. Andri looked at him. Once.

The man paled and snapped to attention. “Yes, Director.”

Andri exited the bridge and strode through the brightly lit corridors of his battle cruiser. Service members immediately stepped to the side, stood at attention, and snapped a salute, not relaxing until he had moved far down the corridor.

His footsteps were measured, each step reverberating through the cold, sterile corridors of his ship. He took the lift down to the docking bay. Minutes later, he, along with his personal guards, were exiting the battle cruiser. Ahead of him, he could see the damage to his brother’s warship.

You have much to answer for, brother. I hope you answer wisely,he grimly thought.

* * *

Nearly an hour later, Andri disembarked his personal shuttle. Soldiers stood at attention, observing with wary expressions as he and his personal guard crossed the docking bay and entered the lift.

Andri knew his brother would be aware of his arrival. The fact that he didn’t meet him in the docking bay revealed his brother’s underlying resentment to what he would consider Andri’s interference in the military matters. Normally, he left the military aspects to Coleridge—and his son. With Roan’s defection and Coleridge’s failures, that would no longer be the case.

With the council on Jeslean destroyed, there is no longer any need for me to handle the political situation any longer. The Gallant rebels needed a firmer hand with their continued defiance.

He waited impatiently as the lift rose to the bridge. Two of his guards stood in front of him at the ready when the doors opened. Only when they moved forward, did he. He was always prepared. The fact that he was on his brother’s warship made no difference. Assassins could be anywhere. The fact that Coleridge knew he would be upset with him made his brother dangerous and a threat.

Andri strode down the corridor. The double doors slid open with a soft swoosh, revealing an active interior. The temperature in the room seemed to drop the moment he stepped onto the bridge.

Silence fell like a guillotine. Officers stiffened, hands twitching at their consoles but never looking up. No one wanted to be noticed.

Andri didn’t rush. He never did. His steps were slow, deliberate—each one landing like a death sentence.

Their commander had failed… and the Legion Director was here to collect.

Andri turned to the right and rounded the upper level of the bridge. The door off the bridge hissed open to reveal his brother standing in front of the viewport in a relaxed posture. Andri’s eyes narrowed when he noticed that Coleridge’s hands were behind his back.

His brother must have sensed his displeasure—and suspicion. Coleridge slowly relaxed his shoulders until his arms hung loosely by his side. Andri nodded to his guards.

“Wait outside,” he ordered.

“Yes, sir,” the guards replied.

Andri studied Coleridge’s expression. If it wasn’t for the slight flush of red, the visible wounds, and the cold wariness in his eyes, his brother’s face could have been mistaken for that of a marble statue. Andri walked over to the bar and pulled out two glasses. He remained silent as he poured the light green liquor from the decanter.

He turned, walked to his brother, and held out the drink. Coleridge extended his hand, accepting the drink, and immediately placed it on the conference table. Andri’s eyes glittered at his brother’s caution.

“I wouldn’t poison you, brother. That would be too quick,” he stated before lifted his glass and swallowed the contents in a single gulp.

Coleridge’s eyes flashed with fire before he concealed his emotions. Andri set his empty glass down on the table next to Coleridge’s untouched drink. His movements were very precise. It matched his thoughts on how he should handle his brother’s ineptitude.

* * *

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