Page 83 of Honor Bound

Zoak loved watching powerful men break. There was a beauty in it—a rawness, an honesty that only came at the end of everything they’d built. He could see it in Dorane’s eyes, the panic just beneath the surface. It made him curious. Who—or what—was doing this to Dorane? His first instinct had been that it was another Turbinta, but the whispers he’d picked up told a different story.

A shadowy figure. A savior. A ghost.

Zoak didn’t believe in ghosts, but he believed in opportunity. And the opportunity here was too delicious to ignore.

A stab of impatience ran through him when his communicator buzzed and he saw Coleridge’s face appear. He reached down and accepted the message.

“Andri is your new target, Zoak. Kill him, and you’ll have a fortune greater than your wildest dreams. The credits are being transferred as I speak. You now have the funds to be the assassin you’ve always wanted to be. In addition to the Director, I have included funds and resources for the termination of General Roan Landais and The Ancient Knights of the Gallant. My brother has already funded Dorane LeGaugh. They’re yours. Every last one of them. Make it count, Turbinta, and your name will never be forgotten.”

Zoak leaned back against the cold metal wall, his pulse quickening when he saw the credits along with a list of equipment with their locations for his use. He could feel the glee bubbling beneath his calm exterior, a dark, almost childlike joy that sent a shiver up his spine. Andri. Roan. Dorane. Kella. The Knights.

What would the Turbinta say when they heard that Zoak had taken them all down?

He let the thought roll through him, savoring it. He could already hear the whispers. His name, spoken with awe and fear. Zoak the Master Turbinta. Zoak the Unstoppable. Zoak the Legendary Assassin.

His focus returned to the office. The dark-skinned man was speaking with Kella now. His stance was calm, confident. The Ancient Knight had the kind of bearing that spoke of someone who had faced death and survived it—more than once.

Zoak’s fingers twitched on the rifle. He could take him out now. One shot, clean and quick. Kella would be next, then Dorane. Three bounties in one night.

But no. That was too simple, too easy. Zoak wasn’t just any assassin. He didn’t kill for convenience. He killed for the legend.

He would let them live—for now.

Besides, hunting prey was more enjoyable when they knew they were being hunted.

He smiled, his teeth flashing in the dim light.Yes. Let them breathe easy a little longer. Let them think they’ve won.

Then he would strike. Hard. Fast. Lethal.

Dorane first. Then Kella. Then the Ancient Knights. One by one, they would fall. And when they were gone, he would turn his sights on Andri. He could already taste the victory, feel the weight of the galaxy’s approbation upon him.

With one last glance at the scene below, Zoak stepped back into the shadows. His heart thrummed with anticipation, his breath steady and even. He could feel it coming—the perfect storm of chaos and blood that would elevate him to the heights he had always dreamed of.

And when it was over, the galaxy would never forget his name.

EPILOGUE

The ice moon of Tesla Terra was as hauntingly beautiful as it was hostile—a vast expanse of frozen emptiness that glittered under the cold light of a distant sun. Sharp craters of glacial ice loomed in the distance, their jagged forms catching the light like crystalline daggers.

TheStar Runnerhovered over a snow-covered ridge, its thrusters sending flurries of ice before it passed through the shields into the flight bay of the deserted rebel base. Roan, Julia, Sergi, and La’Rue stepped out into the biting cold, their breath visible in the frigid air.

“Lovely place for a vacation. Someone needs to remind the rebels to pay their heating bill,” Sergi said, his voice muffled as he pulled the collar of his jacket up. His eyes sparkled with mischief despite the harsh surroundings.

Julia shot him a sideways glance. “Remind menotto let you plan our next holiday.”

Roan chuckled, shaking his head as he walked ahead toward his starship. It sat like a sleeping giant in the emptiness of a hanger that days before had been full of rebel starfighters. Once again, he couldn’t help but be thankful for Dorane’s help in supplying him with this ship. He felt a rush of emotion at the sight of it—this ship was now his lifeline, his sanctuary.

“Well, she’s not as pretty as theStar Runner, but I’ve seen worse,” La’Rue commented, her eyes assessing the vessel with a practiced air.

“She’s fast,” Roan said confidently, running his gloved hand along the cold metal. “That’s all that matters.”

Sergi crossed his arms, his expression softening as he looked at Julia. “You know, when you asked me if I was ready for an adventure during our first interview, and I said yes, I never expected anything like this.” He reached out, pulling her into his arms for a hug. “I wouldn’t trade it for anything either. Thank you for saving my life on the Gliese. The General… he is a good man. He will stand by you.”

Julia smiled, a warmth spreading through her despite the chill. “Thank you, Sergi. For everything.”

Sergi turned to Roan, his expression serious. “And you, General Landais. I’ve misjudged you. You’re not the cold, calculating soldier I thought you were. You’re worse—you’re stubborn as hell. But you’re also someone I’d follow into battle without hesitation. Take care of her until we meet again.”

Roan’s eyes glinted with a mix of gratitude and respect. He nodded. “I will. You have my word.”

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