Chapter 13
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
H e paused in the doorway, his eyes taking in the dim, neat galley; the scarred metal table, and the worn bench seat fused to the deck. The room was cozy. That was the only way to describe the area that was barely big enough for four people. Hell, it was smaller than both of the prison cells he had been in recently.
The hum of the freighter’s lighting system overhead was the only sound apart from the faint clink of Julia’s cup against the table as she set it down. He didn’t miss the exhaustion shadowing her face, nor the glimmer of moisture on her cheek that she wiped away just a fraction too late.
“We found the tracking device Hutu left,” he said.
Julia nodded and gave him a weak, crooked smile in response. Before she had time to pull up her mask, he caught the doubt in her eyes—a fleeting glimpse that told him far more than words ever could.
His chest tightened and he realized that for the first time in a long, long time, he needed to be transparent with her. He suspected he would only get one chance to prove he was being honest with her. The realization didn’t sit well with him.
Honesty wasn’t something he did well. Not because he didn’t want to, but because it had never been safe. Vulnerability could be manipulated, used against him. Honesty could get him killed. He had learned those lessons too young and too well.
For years, he had locked those memories away. They served no purpose except to remind him of what he couldn’t change. But for some reason, he wanted her to know, needed her to understand.
Crossing the room, he retrieved a cup from the cabinet and programmed the dispenser. The scent of tea rose in lazy curls of steam. His movements were measured, deliberate. He needed the calm, familiar movements before he said what he had to say.
He turned and crossed to the table. He slid onto the bench, the smooth, polished metal cool beneath him, and sat across from her. His lips twisted into a rueful smile when he met her gaze.
“Thanks again for rescuing me.”
Julia’s lips twitched, the faintest hint of a smile. “I’m sure you would have found a way out without us.”
“Maybe,” he said with a shrug, his eyes holding hers. “But I think I prefer your method. How exactly did you convince Sergi and La’Rue to be your partners in crime?”
Her smile grew, the tension in her shoulders easing just slightly. “It wasn’t that hard to convince Sergi to buck the system. He likes a little chaos. I don’t think La’Rue had much choice. Not if she wants to keep up with Sergi. Someone will need to keep him out of trouble. I think she might be able to—when he isn’t corrupting her.” Julia reached into her pocket and withdrew a small silver disk, sliding it across the table toward him. “Roanna gave me this. I forgot about it with everything going on. Sorry.”
Roan’s fingers closed around the disk, a flicker of recognition flashing across his face. “Thank you. I’ll need to get this to La’Rue before we come out of hiding.”
“You know what’s on it?” she asked with surprise.
He nodded, his lips curving upward as he fingered the disk. “Yes. My grandmother was aware that I would need transportation after I escaped.” He looked up at her, the smile on his lips was not reflected in his eyes. “She was as confident as you were that I would. She has a ship tucked away on one of the floating asteroids. Once it is clear, I’ll have La’Rue take us to it.”
He didn’t miss the way Julia’s eyes widened slightly when he said ‘us’; nor the way a slight flush rose in her cheeks before she lowered her eyes to the disk he was fingering. He placed the disk on the table between them and leaned back in his chair. His focus dropped to the cup in his hands. The words he needed to say felt heavier than he expected.
“You know more about me than anyone else—except maybe my father and uncle,” he admitted. His voice was calm, though it felt as if he was walking a knife’s edge. His fingers lightly traced the rim of the cup. “I’ve never told anyone this before.”
He didn’t look at her when he began. “When my mother was murdered, my father took me. I was seven.”
Julia’s breath hitched softly, but her expression didn’t shift into pity or sympathy—just quiet interest.
“I went from running wild on Plateau, exploring every inch of my grandmother’s islands, to a rigid world of lessons and military training. Every day was about survival—just getting through it without breaking.” Roan traced the rim of his cup. “When I cried for my mother, my father threw me into a sensory deprivation chamber for an entire day. It was a week after her death.”
Julia inhaled sharply, but still—she didn’t pity him. She simply listened . His glance flickered to her face before he looked down again.
“I was locked in that darkness for hours, hearing nothing but my own breathing. When he let me out, he told me, ‘Weakness is an infection. One that kills those too soft to cut it out of themselves.’” Roan’s lips pressed into a thin line. “So I cut it out. I had to.”
The silence between them stretched, charged with something raw and fragile.
“You survived,” Julia murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.
Roan exhaled, leaning back. “No. I learned how to pretend I had. I would not give Coleridge or my uncle pleasure of seeing me crumble. Their determination to break me gave me strength to resist them.”
He glanced at her, relieved that she wasn’t recoiling, wasn’t pitying him. He wasn’t seeking her sympathy, but her understanding that what he had done, he had done out of necessity. Deep down, he knew he needed to be ready to strike when it came time to bring Coleridge and Andri down. The difference before was he’d always expected to do it alone—and to die.
Now… He looked up and studied Julia’s serene face. The difference now was he wasn’t alone.
“For years, I assumed I’d be alone when the inevitable time came to stand up to them. That I’d do whatever was necessary and die as a consequence. But now…” His gaze flicked to her. “Now, I’m not sure I want to. After my experiences with them, I learned very quickly never to trust anyone. Emotions and relying on someone else were… a liability.” His jaw tightened slightly before he forced himself to continue. “That life prepared me for what was coming.”
Roan’s voice grew quieter, edged with something darker. “My uncle Andri ordered Legion scientists to develop a weapon. They call it the iROS. It is an interplanetary reactive oxygen species of parasite.”
Julia frowned and leaned forward. “Wouldn’t the resulting lack of oxygen and radiation from the planet’s star kill the parasite before it could spread?”
Roan breathed out. “In normal circumstances, yes. Dr. Mella has genetically engineered the cells of the parasite to withstand the radiation. Dr. Mella has developed a chlorofluorocarbon laser cannon that can tear a hole in the atmosphere. A secondary explosion releases the parasite which eats away at the protective barrier. It starts slowly, working its way outward until the planet is left exposed—vulnerable to radiation, cosmic winds, and violent atmospheric collapse. It will be a slow, agonizing death for any living creature on the planet. Once the Legion deploys it from orbit, it would only take a few hours for the parasite to spread through the atmosphere. No ground force can respond quickly enough.”
Julia blinked, her fingers tightening around her cup. “I grew up hearing scientists warn about the slow destruction of Earth’s ozone. But to watch it happen in weeks? To feel the air burn away and know there’s nothing you can do… No one should experience that kind of helplessness…” Her voice trailed off, but her gaze remained steady. “We can’t let that happen to anyone else. The iROS sounds similar to how Earth’s ozone layer was damaged. Industrial chemicals thinned it, allowing harmful radiation through. The effects were slow but devastating. Our scientists struggled with convincing people that climate change was real… and that the effects might be irreversible.”
“Did your world find a way to stop it?” Roan asked.
Julia sighed and lifted her shoulder in a shrug. “They’re working on slowing the damage, but bureaucracy moves slowly. The progress has been… uneven.”
Roan leaned forward, his gaze steady and serious. “The iROS works faster. Weeks, not decades. I’ve seen it in action.”
Julia’s eyes darkened. “You’ve seen it used?”
Roan nodded grimly. “In a controlled test. The scientists deployed it on a small moon base with an artificial atmosphere to measure its effectiveness. It ate through the protective layers. Within a few days, the surface was lifeless—the air burned away. The ground cracked wide open. I watched the habitat collapse, the last survivors gasping for air before the atmosphere was gone. I’ve never felt so helpless. Even when Jeslean—” He shook his head.
He paused, the memory pressing against him like a weight. “It’s not ready for full-scale production yet, but it’s close. If they succeed, they’ll have a weapon capable of erasing planets.”
Julia set her cup down, her brow furrowing. “Where’s the lab?”
For a moment, Roan didn’t answer. His fingers traced the edge of the disk absentmindedly.
“It’s on a mobile space lab, deep within Legion-controlled space.” His voice was steady, but his eyes flickered with something far more dangerous. “I have to stop it. I won’t let their madness define me. Not anymore. I have to destroy the data and the prototype before they perfect and deploy it.”
Julia leaned back in her chair, her expression thoughtful, troubled. “But… how? If it is deep within Legion controlled space you can’t just waltz in there and blow it up. Everyone knows who you are.”
“I’m not without my resources. I know where it is and I know the Legion. I just have to stay one step ahead of my father and uncle. If we’re going to stop it, we’ll need more than just knowledge,” Roan said, his voice turning grim. “We’ll need allies willing to risk everything.””
Julia’s eyes softened, her fingers curling around the cup as if steadying herself. Roan couldn’t help but notice the quiet strength behind her expression—the kind that made him believe they might actually survive this. Their eyes locked, the air between them thrumming with an unspoken connection—something deeper, something fragile but genuine.
Julia exhaled slowly, her gaze holding his. “I think you’ve found that. If the Legion thinks they’re unstoppable, they’ve underestimated you—and the Ancient Knights,” she added with a wry grin before it faded and she reached for his hand, gently squeezing it. “We’ll stop them.”
Roan’s lips twitched, but his eyes didn’t lose their sharp focus. He knew they had to move carefully.
Because if they didn’t… there wouldn’t be a galaxy left to save.
* * *
Julia stifled a yawn behind her hand as she stepped out of the cabin La’Rue had shown her to sometime during the night. She blinked in the soft light illuminating the corridor and rubbed at her eyes. The hum of the freighter’s engines vibrated gently beneath her feet. The hum of the engines had been what had woken her from her exhausted slumber.
She turned, stretching her arms above her head, when Sergi’s voice interrupted the quiet. Dropping her arms to her sides, her eyes flashed over Sergi’s face. The man looked as bright and chipper as always.
“Well, well, well… Look who finally decided to grace us with her presence,” he teased, leaning casually against the bulkhead with his arms crossed. His eyes twinkled with mischief. “Did you sleep through the entire revolution, sleepyhead?”
Julia rolled her eyes, fighting a grin. “It’s called rest, Sergi. You should try it sometime. I hear it does wonders for your personality.”
Sergi chuckled, tilting his head toward the cabin door with an expectant look. “Did you rest alone? Or was there?—”
“Don’t.” Julia held up a finger, cutting him off. “Not another word.”
“Missed opportunities, my dear Julia,” he said with a rueful sigh. “Life is short. Live it to the fullest while you can. No one knows better than we do that we’ve been given a second chance.”
Before she could respond, Roan appeared at the far end of the corridor, yawning and stretching his shoulders, a faint wince crossed his face as he worked out the kinks in his muscles.
Sergi’s eyebrow shot up. “Rough night, General?”
Roan shot him a dry look. “Let’s just say the floor in the storage bay was not built for comfort.”
Sergi chuckled, his glances flicking between them with obvious amusement. “Ah, well. Next time, Julia can give you a few pointers on finding better accommodations.”
Julia’s cheeks warmed despite her best efforts to remain unaffected. “Sergi,” she warned.
He grinned unabashedly, then turned back to Roan, his tone shifting to something more serious. “The last of Hutu’s ships departed an hour ago. It’s safe now. La’Rue and I will take you where you need to go.”
Roan gave a brief nod. “Thank you.”
Sergi’s expression lightened slightly. “Actually, La’Rue and I won’t be sticking around after that. We’re heading out to meet with Crock.”
Julia frowned. “Who’s Crock?”
“The leader of the freighter captains,” Sergi explained. “La’Rue thinks he might be able to help the resistance—or at least provide some much-needed information.”
“Can he be trusted?” Roan asked, folding his arms across his chest.
Sergi’s mouth quirked into a half-smile. “Define ‘trusted.’ Crock has his own code. He’s not a fan of the Legion, though, and he’s got eyes and ears in places most people don’t even know exist. If anyone knows what the Legion’s planning, it’s him. Well, besides you, of course,” he amended, looking at Roan before continuing. “Still, the more eyes we have out there, the better, eh?”
Roan nodded thoughtfully. “I agree.”
Sergi’s eyes darkened slightly as he added, “Ash and Kella won’t be joining us. They’ve been redirected.”
Julia’s brow furrowed in concern. “Why? What happened?”
Sergi exchanged a brief glance with Roan before answering. “Kella received intel about a new threat. A Turbinta assassin named Zoak has been tasked with finding a man named Dorane.”
Roan’s calm expression flickered for a split second before hardening. “Zoak.” His voice was low, almost a growl. “You’re sure?”
Sergi nodded. “Ash wouldn’t have passed it along if he wasn’t.”
Roan released a soft curse, running a hand through his hair. The tension in his body was palpable, the surrounding air suddenly heavier.
Julia glanced between them, her pulse quickening. “Okay, who is Dorane?”
Roan exhaled slowly, his eyes locking on hers. “Someone very important—and very dangerous. He has a personal army that if he joined with the Gallant rebels could rival the Legion. My father and uncle will do everything in their power to make sure that doesn’t happen, including having Dorane terminated. That won’t be an easy mission.”
“And Zoak?” she pressed, sensing the gravity of his words.
Roan’s jaw clenched. “Zoak is a ghost. A shadow. He’s not sent to find people. He’s sent to eliminate them.”
The corridor seemed to shrink around them, the hum of the engines now sounding more ominous than reassuring. Sergi’s usual light-heartedness faded completely, his expression grim.
“If Zoak’s been sent after Dorane, it means the Legion’s accelerating their plans to annihilate the rebel factions more quickly than we thought and realize that Dorane won’t be happy with their methods. It would cut into his revenue streams,” Roan said quietly.
Sergi lifted an eyebrow. “Which is to…?”
“Destroy all planets who resist with a new chemical weapon that destroys the planet’s atmosphere,” Julia said.
She swallowed, her earlier exhaustion forgotten, replaced by a growing sense of urgency. The stakes had just morphed, the game growing far more dangerous.
This is what Hutu was worried about, yes?” Sergi asked.
“Yes,” Roan replied.
“How long before we can leave?” Julia asked, looking at Roan.
Sergi gave her an approving nod, his mischievous grin briefly returning. “That’s the spirit. I knew you were starting to enjoy this life of crime. The thrills, the excitement… the possibility of death. That is what you offered when you suggested we join Project Gliese, yes? This will be a piece of cake.”
Julia shook her head, a reluctant smile tugging at her lips. “Pie, Sergi. You know Mei would hit you right about now, don’t you?”
Sergi’s eyes grew dark with emotion at the mention of Mei and his smile and expression softened. “I would give anything for her to be here to do that.”
“Sergi, we’re getting close. I could use an extra set of eyes up here,” La’Rue’s voice came over the speaker.
“Let’s go,” Roan said, his voice and eyes filled with determination.