Roger tapped his display as the former Saint officer left the captain's office. All things considered, Beach had taken the news rather well. On the other hand, since she'd thrown her lot in rather definitively with the group around Roger, there wasn't much she could do but help. As it was, she was an outlaw under both Saint and Imperial law. If Roger succeeded, she'd be sitting pretty. If he didn't, she wouldn't be any worse off. Once they got near civilization, of course, he wouldn't be able to trust her. But until they got to wherever they were going to start the process of infiltrating the Empire, she really had only two choices: help them, or die. It wasn't much of a choice.
He looked up from the display and stood as the next person on his calendar entered.
"Sergeant Despreaux," he said. "I'd like to speak to you about near-future plans."
He sat back down and returned his attention to his display, then looked back up with an irritated expression as Despreaux came to a position of parade rest.
"Oh, hell, Nimashet. Would you please sit down?" he demanded in exasperation, and waited until she'd obeyed before he glanced back at the display and shook his head.
"I hadn't realized how short you really were when we left Old Earth. You should have ended your term while we were still in Sindi."
"I thought about that at the time," she replied. "Captain Pahner spoke to me about it, as well. Obviously, I couldn't just leave."
"I could probably find a way for you to leave now," Roger sighed. "Along with the four other people who are alive and over their terms. But there'd be the little problem of the price on your heads."
"I'll stay with you for the time being, Sir," Despreaux said.
"Thank you," Roger said formally, then drew a deep breath. "I . . . I have to ask a . . . I'd like to make a request, however."
"Yes?"
He rubbed his face and looked around the cabin.
"I—Nimashet, I don't know if I can do this . . ." He stopped and shook his head. "I—Damn it, I know I can't do this alone. Please, please promise me that you won't leave at the first opportunity. Please promise that you won't just go. I need you. I don't need your gun; I can find plenty of gunners. I need your strength. I need your sense of humor. I need your . . . balance. Don't leave me, Nimashet Despreaux. Please. Just . . . stay with me."
"I won't marry you," she said. "Or, rather, I'll marry 'Prince Roger,' but I refuse to marry 'Emperor Roger.' "
"I understand," Roger said with a sigh. "Just don't leave me. Okay?"
"Okay," she said, and stood. "Will that be all, Sir?"
Roger looked at her for a moment, then nodded.
"Yes, thank you, Sergeant," he said formally.
"Then goodnight, Sir."