Page 87 of New World

Andronikos stood at the center of the bridge, his presence a coiled storm of delusion and unchecked fury. His paranoia had reached its peak. He hadn’t let anyone enter his private command room for over two days, only issuing orders through his guards. Now, his voice was sharp, clipped, as he issued his next command.

Andronikos’s command swept through the bridge like a blade, his eyes burning with obsessive purpose. “Deploy a Battle Cruiser to Aetherial. I want six of my elite soldiers on board. You—I want a meeting in the command room now.”

He turned sharply, his glare locking onto Ri. “Prepare a transfer shuttle and inform the captain of the Charger to expect my men.”

Ri gave a curt nod, his calm exterior. “Yes, sir. Ensign, contact Captain Ramos and tell him to expect a shuttle transfer within the next few minutes.”

Ri watched as Andronikos turned his attention to his security team. Ri’s sharp gaze didn’t miss the tremble in Andronikos hands or the way the Director’s head twitched, almost as if he had a neurological disorder. Six of Andronikos’ personal guards saluted, their boots echoing against the polished floor as they filed into the planning room to receive their orders. Less than ten minutes later, the group filed out, moving in formation as they exited the bridge.

Out of the corner of his eye, Ri noticed the rest of Andri’s guards taking up position once again outside of the doors to the private command room before the doors slid close. The Director had sealed himself back into the command room.

At least there will be six fewer soldiers to deal with, he wryly thought as he refocused on the viewport.

He watched dispassionately as the shuttle’s lights cut through the artificial lights of the fleet before disappearing into the adjacent Battle Cruiser. Moments later, the Battle Cruiser veered away, breaking formation before disappearing in a flash of light.

A minuscule smile curved Ri’s lips before he looked down when a silent pulse from his wrist communicator alerted him. He breathed in and out before returning his attention the room. He sat down in the captain’s chair, his hand sliding to the button that controlled the doors to the bridge, and he pressed the override. He fingered the button on the side of his wrist communicator.

“Secure the bridge on arrival.”

The moment the Legion fleet dropped out of hyperspace into Cryon II’s airspace, Ri felt the shift in the room. Legion officers stiffened, eyes darting to the viewscreens as the battlefield took shape. The Gallant fleet was waiting.

Ships—too many to count—moved like a tidal wave, led by Hutu’s warships, flanked by hundreds of freighters, their gunports unveiling hidden firepower. Gallant fighters swarmed into formation. The pulse of battle was imminent.

The First Officer, a man not of his choosing, released a snarl. “They were waiting for us. Good. Let’s end this.”

He turned toward Ri, expecting agreement. Ri rose from the captain’s chair, lifted his laser pistol, and fired.

“I agree. It is time to end this,” Ri replied.

He fired at the group of guards standing in front of the door leading to the command room. The bridge erupted into chaos as loyalist officers scrambled for their weapons. Behind him, the unsealed bridge doors opened and a group of elite officers poured in, quickly outnumbering the officers in the room.

“Take over communication and navigation,” he called out to two men. “Status report.”

“Engineering is secure.”

“Medical is secure.”

“Fighter bay and weapons are secure.”

“All top levels are secure, sir.”

The hidden Gallant operatives that had sprung into action—security officers, communications techs, ensigns—overpowered the Legion loyalists in brutal, efficient strikes. The takeover had been a long time coming and not without a cost. The careful planning had been tedious. When Roan had first approached Ri, he had been skeptical that an operation of this magnitude could be pulled off. It could only have happened if everyone was willing to die with this secret if they were captured. Ri honestly hadn’t thought there were that many who would.

You were right, Roan.

Ri looked around the bridge. In under a minute, the bridge belonged to those who believed in freedom. Four men worked at clearing the bodies while the rest filled the vacant seats, taking command of the massive starship. Ri turned to the sealed door of the command room. He motioned for a tech to disable the door panel. Several security guards moved forward into position.

“Be careful. He is dangerous,” Ri cautioned.

“Ready when you are, sir,” the tech said.

Ri held his weapon at the ready. He gave a sharp nod to the tech who touched two wires together. The wires sparked before the doors slid open with a low whoosh. Four security officers burst through the door, low and wary. Ri followed, frowning when there was no answering response to the entry. He stepped into the command room, noting the broken displays, shattered glass, and smears of food and liquid across the glass of the viewport windows.

As he studied the room, he noted two things: any reflective surface had been defaced, as if Andronikos couldn’t stand the sight of his own reflection, and the room was empty.

Ri cursed as he studied the room, then his eyes narrowed. He strode back onto the bridge, staring at the spot where the Charger had been ahead of them. Andronikos had slipped out as one of the guards—and was heading to Aetherial.

"Damn it!" he hissed.

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