by M. K. Eidem
"Yes, and they will be announced at tomorrow's Jacketing Ceremony.”
Nick frowned as he continued to read and Stephanie wondered what had caught his attention. "Sergeant Woodrow isn't on either of these lists. Are you not accepting his application?"
"He would be a tremendous asset here," Kort chimed in for the first time as he and Nick shared a glance. "Besides being another body."
Stephanie agreed with their assessment, but had good reasons for her hesitation in the placement. "True, but until I know why he is offering his skills to us instead of his own House, I'm not allowing him into our Royal Guard."
"You think he has an ulterior motive?" Nick asked leaning forward.
"I don't know. But with our need, now would be the perfect time for someone to infiltrate our House and acquire sensitive information only a Royal Guard might overhear. Until I know his motives, I'm not letting him anywhere near my family."
The ringing of her comm prevented anyone from responding.
"Michelakakis," she answered. "Yes, he does have an appointment. Escort him to my office." Disconnecting, she looked to Nick and Kort. "If you'll excuse me, I'll let you know my decision after this meeting."
∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞
Leaving the office, Nick and Kort found the common area empty. The guards had followed their Commander's order and were off enjoying their rare downtime. Nick had work he still needed to do, but as his desk was in the office he'd just been asked to leave, he turned to Kort.
"Training room?" he asked.
Kort grinned. "Ready to get up close and personal with the mat?"
"Right, like that's going to happen." Nick and Kort had been sparring partners for cycles, and while evenly matched, Kort was slightly smaller and faster. It's why Nick liked to workout with him. It kept his reflexes sharp.
Stepping through the outer doors of the Guard Wing, they saw Barr escorting a blonde-haired man Nick recognized.
Sergeant Woodrow wore his formal Coalition jacket decorated with his medals, and the gold striped pants that represented he was from the House of Healing. It made Nick wonder if the man was that confident or just too cocky to realize it wasn't appropriate to apply as a Royal Guard wearing another House's colors.
"Captain Deffand, thank you for the interview." Woodrow extended his hand, and after a moment Nick shook it. "I have to admit you had me worried for a moment."
"Worried?" Nick asked. "About what?"
"That you wouldn't accept my application," Woodrow replied as if it were obvious.
"I see," Nick said, noncommittal. "Well, I won't be."
"What?" Woodrow demanded frowning, his bullish features darkening. "Then why am I here? You're desperate for qualified, highly trained guards and there is no one better than me. You need me."
No one responded for a moment. The outburst had Nick remembering Stephanie's concerns regarding Woodrow's reasons for applying outside his own House.
"I was referring to the fact that it's up to the Commander on whether you are accepted into the House of Protection's Royal Guard. Not me."
"Commander?" Woodrow asked, his face still ruddy with anger. "What Commander? The House of Protection doesn't have one."
"I take it you didn't watch the Special Assembly King Jotham convened today." A glaring mistake as far as Nick was concerned. A guard, especially a Royal one, should always be aware of what was going on with the Assembly. Especially, when the King was speaking.
"I..." Woodrow stammered for a second then recovered. "No. I didn't. I only arrived in Pechora as the first sun was rising. I chose to be well rested for my interview instead of watching an Assembly."
"You made the wrong choice," was all Nick said then turned his gaze to the guard. "The Commander is waiting for him in her office."
"Right away, Captain."
"Wait. What? Her?"
His questions went unanswered as Nick and Kort walked away.
∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞
"Enter," Stephanie ordered as she finished signing the paperwork in front of her. Once that was done she looked up. "Thank you, Barr. Please wait outside so you can escort Sergeant Woodrow out when we're done."
Shock that she knew his name crossed Barr's face before he responded, "Yes, Commander."
"Have a seat, Sergeant." Stephanie gestured to the single chair in front of her desk.
Woodrow's brown eyes narrowed slightly, but he sat. "Lieutenant..."
"Commander," she cut him off.
A muscle ticked in his jaw. "Yes, of course, Commander. I was just informed of your promotion."
"Is there a problem with your eyesight?" she asked, lifting a piece of paper. "There's no notation of that in your file."
"What? No. My eyesight is perfect," he growled.
"And yet you were unable to see the rank on my collar."
"I... my apologies," he said stiffly. "You were a Lieutenant when last we spent time together. It was a slip of the tongue."
"We've never spent time together, Sergeant," Stephanie carefully stressed the words, her eyes boring into his. "Unless you're referring to all the time I helped your back meet the training mat."
A white ring formed around Woodrow's mouth as he kept it tightly shut.
"Now, I've read your file." Stephanie shifted papers in his file and pretended to read. "You completed Captain Chamberlain's program finishing in the top two. Congratulations."
"Thank you, Commander."
She ignored the way he emphasized her title. "So why doesn't King Yusuf want you?"
"What?!" His chair rocked back as his eyes widened.
Stephanie remained calm and folded her hands on her desk. She spoke slowly to make herself clear. "You are from the House of Healing. Why are you offering your services to the House of Protection?"
"Is there a reason I shouldn't?" he fired back.
Something shift in Woodrow's gaze but Stephanie couldn't identify it. "I'm asking the questions, Sergeant, and you will answer them if you want to be considered for a position in this House."
"I'm allowed to offer my services to any House as long as I'm qualified for the position and I am more than qualified to be a member of King Jotham's guard."
Stephanie took a slow deep breath. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of responding to his belligerence. "I'm not questioning your 'qualifications,' Sergeant. What I'm questioning are your intentions. What are you hoping to gain by serving in the House of Protection?" When it looked like he wasn't going to answer, she said, "Let me remind you, Sergeant, this is an interview. One you requested. If you refuse to participate, then there is no need to continue."
"King Yusuf offered me a position," he gritted out, "but being a Royal Guard in the House of Protection is more prestigious and receives more credits."
"That's why you're applying?" She couldn't believe it. There had to be more to it.
"That and the fact that you need me. The House of Protection Royal Guard is severely undermanned, and I'm the best."
"I see." None of what he said alleviated Stephanie's suspicions. "Well, thank you, Sergeant. I’ll let you know my decision tomorrow.”
“Let me know... but...” he sputtered.
“But what, Sergeant?"
"I assumed..."
Stephanie closed his file with a snap and stared at him. "That your application would immediately be accepted without the proper vetting? Maybe that's how it’s done in the House of Healing, but this is the House of Protection. As you said, it is a prestigious position and not given to just anyone. Dismissed.”
Chapter Seven
Exhaling sharply, Stephanie sat back in her chair as the door closed behind Woodrow and wondered what she was going to do. He had an impeccable record, was exceptionally well trained and would be an asset to any House he served in. On a professional level, there was no reason for her not to immediately offer him a position, but on a personal level...
She'd never been in this position before. Oh, she'd had men under her command with an attitude
like Woodrow's, and she'd easily shrugged it off. There would always be foabhors out there, and there was nothing she could do to change their attitude.
Good leaders didn't have to be friends with or even like those under their command. They just needed to assess their abilities, place them where they were most useful, and lead them.
Could she do that with Woodrow if she didn't trust his reasons for wanting the position? Because for her it was personal, highly personal, this was her family. She needed help and wasn't too proud to admit it. Leaning forward she punched a code into her comm. It rang several times before finally being answered.
"Chamberlain," came the gruff answer. The screen moved from a naked chest to Peter Chamberlain's face, and while his eyes were alert and sharp, she knew she'd woken him.
"I apologize, Captain. I hadn't considered what time it was in Kisurri. I'll contact you at a better time."
"Peter? Who is it? Is something wrong?" Stephanie heard the sleep-laden voice of the Captain's wife, Cyndy.
"No, Pixie. Nothing's wrong. Go back to sleep," he reassured her. The screen went dark and Stephanie didn't need to use much imagination to wonder why as she heard the sheets rustle. "I'll be back in a minute."
Several minutes later his image filled the screen again. This time he sat behind a desk, his well-defined chest was still visible.
"What can I do for you, Commander?"
Stephanie shouldn't be surprised he knew about her promotion. After all, he was the High Admiral's brother-in-law. "Please, Captain, it's Stephanie."
"Only if you call me Peter," he responded.
"I would be honored... Peter."
"Good, so now that that's settled. What can I do for you, Stephanie?"
"I need advice,” she admitted with a heavy sigh, “and you are the only one I could think to ask."
"Advice...” Peter frowned at her. “Concerning what?"
"Not what. Who."
Peter was silent for a moment then said, "Sergeant Woodrow applied for a position in the House of Protection."
Stephanie shouldn't be surprised that Peter had figured it out so quickly. He was Queen Cassandra's brother after all. "Yes."
"And you're indecisive on whether to accept him." Peter leaned back in his chair and waited for her response.
"I don't trust him," she finally admitted.
"Don't trust or don't like?" he questioned.
"Does it matter?" She asked and raised an eyebrow at him.
"If you're the Commander it does,” he informed her quietly.
"You're right," she agreed, "and it's both."
"So you're contacting me about this instead of someone from your own House because..?" Peter trailed off.
"Because he trained under you. You know him. You know me, and I can't help but think you've been in this position before."
"You're right on all counts," Peter said then paused for a moment before continuing. "Woodrow is an excellent guard and would be an asset to any House he serves."
"I don’t doubt his skill. I've trained with him. It's his attitude I have a problem with." She suddenly remembered something the High Admiral had said. "If he would be such an asset, why didn't you offer him a position in Cassandra's guard, like you were going to offer me?"
That brought Peter up short, and then he sighed. "William told you."
"Yes. So why not Woodrow?" she pressed.
"He wouldn't be a good fit with Cassandra and..."
"And..."
"I didn't like his attitude either... he tried to hide it, but I've seen it too many times."
"You mean the comments and discrimination because I'm a woman. Is that why you were going to offer me a position in Cassandra's detail?"
"I was going to offer you the position because you are highly qualified and would be a good fit."
"But Woodrow wouldn't?" That surprised her.
"Not with Cassandra. She would have chewed him up and spit him out. She doesn't tolerate shit like that. She was on the receiving end of too much of it back on Earth by self-important, male professors."
"They didn't like that she was smarter than they were."
"No, but we're getting off topic. Woodrow's attitude is with you specifically. It won't affect anyone else he's protecting."
"Even if that person is a woman?"
"You're thinking of putting him on Jacinda's detail?" Peter didn’t try to hide his shock.
"Ancestors no,” she immediately responded. “Mom would react like Cassandra. She ran into the same shit during her time in the Coalition, and there's no way I'm allowing him to be a part of Jotham's, Barek's, or even Danton's Guard."
"Why not?"
"You and I both know that Royal Guards overhear private and sensitive conversations. Ones that if other Houses knew of would cause problems."
"You think Woodrow is a plant."
"Plant?" She gave him a confused look.
"Sorry, it’s an Earth term. It means a spy. Someone who takes a position to intentionally gather information they can turn over to someone else."
"Yes. I have no proof of that, just a gut feeling. But it would be a coup for King Yusuf to have someone that completed your program in his detail. Woodrow was the only one from his House that did that, and he didn't return to the Coalition. Why would Yusuf give up those bragging rights, especially against the House of Protection, something I think he really wants right now?"
"Why right now?" Peter wondered out loud.
"Because of my mother. Cycles ago, Yusuf's and my mother's parents tried to arrange a betrothal between them. Yusuf was barely five, and my mother absolutely refused. By the time it might have been approached again, my mother had already found her life mate."
"Your father."
"Yes, a man from the House of Protection, and now she's done it again. Not with a lowly Assemblyman, but with a King."
"Who isn't Yusuf."
"Yes, and Yusuf isn't like Jotham or the High Admiral, for that matter. He is the walking definition of a spoiled 'Royal.' The only one I've ever heard worse stories about was Prince Dadrian."
Stephanie could see Peter's mind making the right connections. "So Yusuf would want payback. Something he could hold over Jotham’s and Jacinda's head."
"Correct."
"Did Woodrow give you a reason for not offering his service to Yusuf?"
"He said that serving the House of Protection is more prestigious and offered more credits."
"Wrong reasons," Peter growled.
"Agreed, and if he were applying for any other position, I wouldn't hesitate but this is my family, and that means we're playing by a whole different set of rules."
"Because it is personal,” Peter said understandingly.
"Yes, which is why I contacted you. What would you do? If the situation was reversed?"
She watched as Peter leaned back in his chair, rubbing a finger over his upper lip the way she'd seen him do when he was thinking a problem through. It was one of the things she'd liked when she'd trained with him. He would actually think before responding.
"The Royals of the House of Protection are vulnerable right now." He also didn't pull any punches in his assessments. "For one of your first decisions as Commander to be not accepting someone extremely qualified could be misconstrued on many levels."
"House discrimination. Personal bias. Inexperience," she listed the ones she'd come up with.
"Yes." He leaned forward bringing his face closer to the screen. "You need him, Stephanie, no matter his reasons. At least for now."
"It's a great deal more difficult to remove a Royal Guard than to refuse to allow someone to become one," she told him.
"True, but it can still be done. Are you considering making him a Captain?”
“Ancestors, no!” She couldn't believe he'd think that after everything she'd told him.
“Then put him where his skills can be utilized but there is little chance of him overhearing sensitive information.”
∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ �
�
Disconnecting from Peter, Stephanie made a few more comms, the last being to Woodrow.
“Sergeant, I’m calling to inform you that your application to become a member of the House of Protection’s Royal Guard has been accepted.”
“I never doubted it, Commander.” The smugness in his voice held just enough respect to keep Stephanie from calling him out on it.
“The Jacketing Ceremony is tomorrow at 1100. You need to report by 0900 to be fitted for your jacket. I will inform the guards at the gate, and they will direct you on where to go.”
“I’ll be there.”
“Is there anyone you wish to witness the ceremony? If so, they will need to be approved.”
“No.”
“Then I’ll see you at 1100, and congratulations.” She disconnected the call before Woodrow could respond. She hadn’t even had time to remove her hand when the comm rang again. Sighing, she answered.
“Stephanie Ann Michelakakis, you're late for your own celebration," her mother scolded.
"What? Mom? No I'm not. It doesn't start until 1800."
"And it's ten after," Jacinda said in exasperation.
"It is?" She looked at the clock and saw it really was after 1800. "I'm sorry, Mom, I lost track of time. I'll be right there."
"Make sure you are. Everyone is waiting."
Shutting down her comm, Stephanie rushed out of her office only to run smack dab into a wall, a wall of solid muscle. Strong arms encircled her as she stumbled back. Looking up she found Nick's chocolate brown eyes, full of concern, staring down at her.
"Are you alright?" he asked gruffly.
"I..." She was suddenly short of breath, and it had nothing to do with having only one lung, but with the man holding her in his arms. For so long she had refused to let herself think of Nicholas Deffand as anything other than the Captain of Jotham's Guard, but it was a losing battle, especially when she was in his arms.
Her mother had told Stephanie how Nick had been the first one at her side when she'd fallen. How he had used his hands to stem the blood pouring from her. He had helped save her life though he'd never come to visit at the house when she'd been recovering.
Before her injury, Stephanie had told herself that she couldn't interested in Nick when her goal had been to become one of Jotham's Guards. It wouldn't have been appropriate as he would be her direct superior. But once that possibility was gone, she'd found herself searching for him in every broadcast that contained Jotham and let herself wonder what it would be like, to be in his arms, as she was now.
