Jack Campbell - Perilous Shield

“Damn. Funny you were on one of the ships dropping rocks on my head. Small galaxy, isn’t it?” Drakon sighed, then shrugged again. “I’m glad it’s over.”

“Is it?”

“Nah. We’re all still fighting, aren’t we? The enemies have just changed. But I like to pretend.”

“That can be a bad habit in senior officers,” Bradamont observed.

The blunt observation could have upset him with its borderline insubordination, but instead Drakon found himself smiling wryly. “A very bad habit, especially when planning operations. I think I’m beginning to see what Colonel Rogero sees in you and why Black Jack picked you for this assignment.”

“Will I be… General, this is a purely personal question. Will I be allowed to see Colonel Rogero?”

“Allowed? You’ll be required to see him. He’s going to be your official handler though he’ll retain his primary job as one of my brigade commanders.”

Bradamont swallowed, eyes wide. “Thank you, General.”

“I did it for him,” Drakon said, feeling uncomfortable at her obvious gratitude. “You’ll have some guards assigned to you, but they’ll respect your privacy. Remember what President Iceni said. Anything you say in public or on a comm line will probably be overheard.”

“I thought the snakes were gone,” Bradamont said.

“Most of them. We’re certain there is at least one snake operative hidden among the citizens or the military. But snakes aren’t the only ones who tap into conversations. You know how that is.”

Her gaze back at him was perplexed. Clearly, this Alliance officer didn’t know how it was. “General, are you talking about official or unofficial snoops?”

“Both. Internal politics and competition for promotions can get really hardball.” She had to understand that aspect of things.

“Hardball,” Bradamont repeated. “You mean politicking?”

“No, I mean blackmail, spying, and assassinations.”

She stared back at him. “I’m waiting for you to say just kidding .”

“That doesn’t happen in the Alliance?” Drakon asked.

“No. I mean, in rare cases. But it is rare.” Bradamont looked down, her expression concerned. “Some of the things Colonel Rogero said to me. I assumed I’d misinterpreted them.”

“You didn’t.” Drakon gave her his sternest look. “You need to know how things work here. How things have worked because I always hated that junk and will do my best to stamp it out. There’s a reason why officers always carry sidearms, and it’s not because we expect an Alliance invasion at any second. There’s a reason why I often have bodyguards around me. I’m going to do my best to keep you alive, and I’m sure that Colonel Rogero will do the same. But you need to know what’s going on so you’ll stay alert for trouble.”

“I… will do that, General.” She looked up at the large display mounted on the front of the passenger compartment. It was now displaying a single external view of the planet below them as the shuttle dropped ever lower. “It’s beautiful.”

“I’ve seen a lot worse planets,” Drakon agreed. “Are you going to be all right, Captain?”

She switched her gaze, and he saw an Alliance battle cruiser commander looking back at him. Tough. Smart. Not just competent, but skilled. “I’ll be all right, General.”

He had wondered what could have led Rogero to fall in love with an enemy prisoner of war. Having finally met her, he found that Rogero’s fall wasn’t all that surprising. “We’ll land next to my headquarters complex. Colonel Rogero is standing by there. He doesn’t know why, by the way.”

“He’ll have seen the news reports—”

“No, he won’t. As far as Colonel Rogero knows, you left with Black Jack’s fleet.”

She smiled. “You’re an evil man, General.”

“Most people who have said that really mean it, you know.”

“I doubt that. General, may I make a request?”

Colonel Rogero tried not to look as aggravated as he felt. It was not by any means the first time he had been pulled away from his unit on vague orders from General Drakon. It also wasn’t the first time he had been escorted to a secure conference room in the main command complex to await the General and a briefing on orders too sensitive to be passed on by any other means.

But he had been sitting here for hours, alone in a conference room that was not just secure but also sealed. He hadn’t been able to access any comm lines, hadn’t been able to check on alerts or current events or anything else outside the four walls confining him. I wanted to see the former enigma prisoners arrive. There were rumors that the General would be at the main orbiting facility for that. Why am I a virtual prisoner in here when there is so much going on outside?

It wasn’t just the former prisoners coming in, though their arrival could arouse a wave of rumors and even instability among the citizens. There were still snakes hidden out there, and he couldn’t hunt for them while confined in a room that didn’t even allow him to call out.

Is my own loyalty suspected? Colonel Morgan has been acting guarded around me for a while, but Colonel Malin knows me well enough to know I would not betray General Drakon. But, if knowledge of my ties with the snakes has become more widely known…

Rogero looked toward the door with a sinking feeling. Protective custody? Is that what this is? To keep my own troops from murdering me as a snake agent? Surely Drakon would tell them the truth, that I misled the snakes and protected the General. But would they listen?

He saw the door latch move, then the portal swung open. General Drakon himself, looking unconcerned. “I’m sorry you’ve been kept on ice for a while, Donal. There was something I needed to take care of.”

“General,” Rogero said, rising from his seat a bit faster than he usually would have, “is there anything—”

Drakon waved a dismissive hand. “You’re all right. I brought you here to tell you that you’re getting another collateral duty.”

“Another collateral duty?” That wasn’t welcome news. Extra jobs on the side tended to take an inordinate amount of time away from your primary job. But compared to his earlier worries, it was a very small inconvenience. “What is it?”

“I’ll show you. Come on.”

Rogero followed, mystified, as Drakon led the way through the complex. “How’s your unit doing?”

“They’re fine, General. Morale is good.”

“Excellent. I need to talk to you later about your impressions of the troops and their attitudes toward the citizens.” Drakon stopped before the closed door of a small automated snack bar for use by headquarters personnel. “But that can wait a few hours. Here we are.”

“General?”

Drakon glanced at Rogero. “Your new, extra responsibility is inside. It’s something that only you can deal with, Colonel.”

“In… a snack bar?”

“Take your time. When you’re done in there, report to VIP Quarters One. Understand?”

“VIP ?”

“Just do as you’re told, Colonel.” Drakon partially opened the door, took Rogero by one arm, and urged him through the gap.

Mystified, and a bit worried again, Rogero started to turn back as he heard the door click shut behind him. Instead, he spun to face the inside of the room as someone stood up from one of the tables.

For one of the few times in his life, Donal Rogero could only stare, unable to think or talk.

“I bought you a drink,” Captain Bradamont said, offering a bottle. “I didn’t have any of the local currency, so your General lent me some.”

The Alliance dress uniform she wore was clean and neat, not like the torn and burn-marked battle uniform that Bradamont had worn on the prisoner transport ship and in the labor camp. A command pin had been added to the decorations she wore, along with some new campaign and battle ribbons. But she herself had not changed at all. “Honore?” Rogero finally said as his brain gradually began working again. “Is this real?”