Page 65 of Clan and Command

Yet there was no denying Piras was getting in deep. At least he wasn’t the lone moron of the trio. Kila had made no pretense that he was looking for something long term. Maybe even permanent. He’d pursued Piras, and the Dramok liked that he meant that much to Kila. It made him glow inside to know he was worth being the one chased after.

Piras needed more time with Lokmi to figure out if the something might happen there, but the signs seemed favorable. The Imdiko’s sexual needs matched Piras’s. There was respect between them. They even had similar interests.

It could be more. Piras was almost certain of that.

“Maybe Lidon’s rejection wasn’t the end of the world after all,” he mused. Thinking about his former lover brought pain as it always did. It seemed less at the moment, however, like a distant echo of the old hurt. It didn’t tear at his heart.

Piras wanted to continue thinking about things, but his handheld computer, worn in a pouch next to his com, buzzed a reminder warning to him. He was supposed to be at the meeting at that moment, and he wasn’t even sure who had called it yet. His money was on Hobato though. With the attack on Rokan and Haven, there were sure to be many abruptly called meetings in the next few days.

With a huff of breath, already rehearsing his apologies for being late, Piras left for work.

* * * *

Piras landed his shuttle in his usual spot within the admirals’ bay of Fleet Command headquarters. He noted the small group of Fleet Security standing in the wide-open space. He got out, wondering what they were up to. Had headquarters come under a threat, or was it a routine security check?

He found out neither was the case when the four Nobeks marched straight up to him. The one in the front, his once-handsome face marred with many knife scars, bowed to him. “Rear Admiral Piras. You were to be at a meeting fifteen minutes ago.”

Piras bristled at the high-handed greeting from a lower-ranked officer. “I didn’t realize Admiral Hobato would take my tardiness so hard as to send an armed escort upon my arrival.”

“Your meeting is with me, sir. Not the fleet admiral.” The commander’s eyes were piercing with intent.

Piras’s mouth went dry. Had Fleet Security already gotten wind of his activities? Was he pinpointed as a traitor so soon?

Displaying none of the panicked thoughts rattling his brain, he hid behind his typical angry attitude. Fortunately, his temper came easily when confronted with unforeseen inconveniences. “I see. How kind of you to follow the usual protocol of scheduling an interview with my aide.” He sneered with real ire at the Nobek, who at least had the good sense to look at him with a bit more uncertainty. Piras was grateful in this instance for his reputation as an asshole.

He continued to berate the man, acting the part of enraged admiral. “This smacks of insubordination, Officer. Summoning me, as if I was some lowly crewman? Making me think I should rush in because an emergency had occurred? You do realize we are at war, or has that little detail escaped your limited consciousness? That any abrupt change to my schedule would be viewed as a crisis?”

The Nobek and his team looked at him with wide eyes. The commander spoke with a thread of concern weaving through his tone. “Admiral, I felt it necessary to move with all haste—”

“You thought? Well, I’m delighted you are capable of that. At the very least, you could have alerted me to whom I was going to be speaking with. Nobek—?”

“Diwal, sir, Senior Security Officer of Fleet Command Headquarters.” Nobek Diwal seemed to regain his confidence as he stated his title. “I apologize if I have been out of line in any way. However, I assure you that our meeting is of a sensitive nature and the highest priority. Come with me.”

He turned and nodded to his team. Diwal marched off, heading towards to in-house conveyance as the squad closed ranks around Piras.

Piras’s temper went into the stratosphere. He stood his ground with fists clenched and shouted after Diwal. “I don’t know what this is about, but I will not be marched through headquarters like a criminal! If you’re charging me with something, then do so. Otherwise, go fuck yourself with a percussion blaster. I’ll be glad to help you with that, if you can’t manage. I know exactly where to stick it.”

Diwal swiveled to face him. He did not regard Piras with surprise or any of the earlier unease. Instead, his attitude seemed curious…and perhaps even amused. The idea Diwal thought their confrontation would be humorous pissed off Piras all the more. He ground his teeth together.

Instead of addressing Piras, the senior officer spoke to his men. “The admiral will accompany me on his own. You are dismissed to attend to your usual duties.”

The men bowed to him and then Piras. At least they still looked apprehensive. They hurried away, as if to escape before Piras could include them in the target zone of his infamous temper.

He continued to remain standing in place, scowling at Diwal. The Nobek was forced to relent and approach him once more.

Piras’s grating voice showed how little control he had left over his fury. “If that little show was to impress me, you don’t know my record at all. You are fucking with the wrong man, Diwal.”

“It was an unfortunate necessity, I assure you, Admiral. One never knows what will take a man off his guard and lead him to spill his guts.” Diwal grinned, but there was no longer humor in the expression. He looked ready to bite someone’s head off. “I am well aware of your record. I would have been disappointed if you’d gotten rattled by my greeting you in such a fashion. Please, Admiral, come with me.” He bowed again, very low.

Hardly mollified but relieved, Piras followed him to the conveyance. No matter how assured Diwal was now, he’d had a moment of trepidation. That alone told Piras he wasn’t yet under suspicion.

Thank the ancestors. I can’t be fingered as a traitor before Maf’s fleet gets Laro, or the whole game is shot. Maf won’t want me anywhere near until my plan for him succeeds.

They went to one of the lower floors of headquarters, the whole of which was taken up by the security branch of Fleet Headquarters. Diwal ushered Piras into his office.

Piras looked around, curious despite himself. He’d never been in the security section. Diwal’s office was much as one might expect of a Nobek: spare for the most part, with little furnishings beyond a desk, chairs, and table where a conference of about half a dozen men might be held. The walls were crowded, however. Like Piras, Diwal had chosen to decorate the vertical space with his passion. His interest lay not in model ships though.

Implements of terror hung from ceiling to floor on all four walls of the room. Weapons like blades and blunt beating instruments jostled for space with various restraints, both practical and horrendous. The collar with the spikes pointed inward was of particular awfulness to Piras…and the points were dark colored and crusted, as if blood from some victim had dried on them long ago.

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