And waited.
Let history repeat itself.
Only this time, it would be his name, not the Legion’s, that echoed in the screams.
20
The holographic map of Cryon II flickered with blue light, the shifting orbits of ships and the moon port’s defenses marked with glowing trajectories. Josh, Cassa, and Hutu stood around the central war table, their expressions grim, their minds sharp with the weight of what was coming.
The air in the war room was heavy—a mixture of anticipation, strategy, and the unspoken knowledge that they were running out of time. Andronikos was coming. And he was bringing hell with him.
The ship vibrated beneath their feet as the engines adjusted their position, drifting into the optimal intercept zone ahead of the Legion fleet. Outside, the deep void of space stretched endlessly, but within, the storm was about to break.
Hutu’s voice was measured, his deep resonant tone carrying over the quiet hum of the tactical consoles.
“Andronikos should have been here by now. His fleet is moving slower than expected.”
Josh exhaled sharply. “Because he’s paranoid. Our informant onboard just confirmed it.”
Cassa’s fingers flew over the controls, pulling up the latest transmission from their informant aboard Andronikos’s Battle Cruiser. The message scrolled across the holoscreen in tight, coded script, but the meaning was clear.
* * *
Andronikos is unraveling. The closer we get to Cryon II, the more erratic he becomes.
Paranoia is gripping his officers. He believes the trade routes have gone silent as a trap—he is convinced he is being led into an ambush.
Tensions are rising among the Legion captains. Some question his leadership, but the loyalists—his inner circle—keep them in line through fear.
Andronikos has locked down the bridge. No one is allowed inside except his most trusted guards.
Four Battle Cruisers are captained by loyalists. However, many of the crew are there under threat to their families—they fight not out of loyalty, but fear.
If Andronikos’s ship falls, the Legion will collapse. If the chain of command is broken, those fighting under duress will have a chance to surrender.
A Battle Cruiser has been dispatched to Aetherial. Orders: eliminate Dorane, Zoak, and the Ancient Knights. Once Cryon II is destroyed, the fleet will turn its weapons on Aetherial, razing the planet’s settlements before continuing throughout the star system.
* * *
A heavy silence followed as the message ended. The muted sounds of the ship and crew filtered through the door of the war room, but no one spoke.
Cassa finally exhaled through her nose, shaking her head. “If Andronikos is this paranoid now, he’ll be even more dangerous once the battle starts. He’ll push his fleet to destroy Cryon II, no matter the cost. He won’t care how many of his own ships he loses in the process.”
Josh’s jaw clenched. “Then we need to take him out before he gives the order.”
A soft click sounded as the war room doors slid open. Josh and Hutu stood as Asta entered the room. Her feline-shaped eyes narrowed with sharp intelligence, the subtle gleam of her retractable claws reflecting off the tactical lights. She moved with a silent grace, yet her presence commanded attention.
Josh gave a small nod. “Asta. Thank you for coming.”
Asta dipped her head in greeting, but her gaze was all business. “I do not like leaving Cryon II at a time like this. But since you insist on your reckless plans, I figured I should at least give you some pertinent warnings.”
Josh bowed his head in acknowledgment of Asta’s irritation. She turned toward Hutu and Cassa, her voice cool and unwavering. “If your Gallant forces value their lives, they will stay out of Cryon II’s defensive range.”
Hutu’s eyes sharpened. “Are you saying your people will fire on us?”
Asta’s ears flicked back, her expression neutral. “I am saying that Cryon II’s defense system is not selective. Once the moon port enters full lockdown, no ship—Legion or otherwise—will be allowed in or out without triggering its automated defenses.”
Josh and Hutu exchanged a glance.