The Drill: M-rated language, British spelling/grammar for Elizabeth and no military- or show-picking—please and thank you.

Plot Note: A variation on the opening scene was supposed to make up the entirety of this chapter, with the second half of making up chapter eleven. I didn't like the initial scene when it stood alone, however, so here we are.

Ten

"You're unusually quiet, tonight," Jonah remarked as he helped Elizabeth with her jacket.

No response.

"Isn't this supposed to be a happy event? Celebrating your victory and the garrison and whatever else?"

"I could have gotten ready at the barracks or even back at my house…"

The usual half-smile. "But then I wouldn't have seen you in mess dress, gorgeous."

Elizabeth flushed and laid aside the hand mirror she'd been used to inspect her hair. "I'd better get going, luv. It's 6:45."

"Not until you tell me what's bothering you."

The captain started to walk away, but Jonah caught her by the shoulders and tilted her chin so that she met his eyes.

"Elizabeth?"

She sighed. "I'm pregnant, Jonah."

He resisted the urge to hug her and held her at arm's length instead. "Are you sure?"

Elizabeth nodded. "My period was due three days after we first made love. That was three weeks ago."

"Get tested," Jonah said abruptly. "Javier…"

"Will not be getting involved! Nor will the medics, if I can help it! I hesitate to use Dr. Dhuwallia, but I do not want to take this out of town, either."

"Are we even talking about a pregnancy test anymore?"

Captain Shaughnessy made her way back to the door, but the smuggler merely tightened his grip.

"Promise me that you won't have Kenchy abort it without discussing it with me."

She made a noise of disapproval. "If I wanted to get rid of it, I would put it up for adoption. The universe knows that there are plenty of couples out there that lost their children last September!"

Elizabeth tugged again, but didn't succeed in loosening his grip. "I have to go, Jonah. It wouldn't be seemly for the President of the Mess to be late."

He merely grabbed her and threw her into an ardent kiss.

*****

"Have you caught up with everybody, yet?"

"By my mental tally, I'm up to twenty-nine, including you."

Marielle checked her watch. "Cocktail hour is almost over. You have about ten minutes to squeeze in the last five.

"Why were you so late?"

"Jonah insisted I dress at Emily's and then wouldn't shut up when I wanted to leave. I must have told him five times that I couldn't be late!" Elizabeth nodded to the banquet attendant filling her glass and made her way toward Sergeant Milan.

"Did that attendant just pour you sparkling juice?" Elizabeth hesitated at the sound of Marielle's voice, but did not turn around. "Your boyfriend wouldn't shut up for some reason other than the fact that you wouldn't stay for dinner…?"

"Business, Sergeant," the captain said in a voice pitched so that only her aide could hear. "Business first, pleasure later."

"Guard, please post the colours."

At Captain Shaughnessy's request, five of the privates trooped into the grand dining chamber, escorted by Sergeant Covetti. There was a low murmur when the diners saw the colors had no actual guard, but they were silenced when the sergeant announced,

"The flag of the Allied States of America."

Elizabeth's stomach twisted when she saw that disgusting thing, that mockery of the colonial flag, stuck into the base on the far right. For the first time in three months, Elizabeth began to reflect on Major Beck's parting words.

"Are you okay, ma'am?" Ruby murmured.

Captain Shaughnessy nodded. "Just a little hungrier than usual, I think."

"The flag of John Tomarchio, President of the Allied States of America."

Tomarchio's flag was even more repulsive, a garish thing of red and black. Elizabeth wasn't sure why anyone would want to be represented by such a standard, but the thought quickly disappeared as the next private stepped forward.

"The honorable flag of the state of Kansas."

Until this moment, Elizabeth never realized how beautiful the Kansan flag really was. It was a jewel, compared to the others. She smiled.

"The standard of the Army of the Allied States of America!"

Elizabeth was sure that the collective sigh of relief when Private Howard stepped forward wasn't all in her head. Tomarchio's people had only dared to alter the Army flag enough to read "The Allied States of America", which likely meant…

"The standard of the Air Force of the Allied States of America!"

Yes. Her branch's flag had had the same treatment.

I would have resigned my commission if they had changed much else! Captain Shaughnessy thought.

"Ms. Vice, has every glass in the grand dining chamber been filled?" Elizabeth asked, laying aside the notes from her opening remarks.

"Every glass is filled, Madame President," Marielle replied.

The captain gestured the entire assembly to their feet and took a deep breath under cover of the noise. The toasts would be the hardest part of the night. Plastering on a smile, Elizabeth said,

"To new beginnings and a new life. To the Allied States of America!"

"The Allied States of America!" the garrison echoed.

Elizabeth took a sip of juice. "Ladies and gentlemen, we salute John Tomarchio, the Commander-in-Chief of the Allied States of America!"

"The Commander-in-Chief of the Allied States of America!"

As Second Lieutenant Chamberlain began the toasts customary to the most junior officer, Elizabeth allowed her mind to wander. She felt guilty for asking the Rangers to patrol while the entire garrison partied, but Sheriff Green had been as enthusiastic as the lieutenants about the idea. Even Mayor Anderson had brightened when Ruby announced that no civilians (and therefore, no sweethearts) would be allowed. Everyone deserves a break sometime…she thought.

Captain Shaughnessy raised her glass to the Air Force, drained it and waited for an attendant to refill. The tedious task of toasting was almost over.

"We offer a toast to our heritage and to the comrades that have gone before us," Elizabeth declared. "May we serve our country and our unit in honour."

"To the Jericho garrison!"

Some hours later, the city-state's administrators strolled outside.

"Soup, salad and venison steaks…best meal we've had since we got here!" Ruby remarked. "Where'd you come by the cheesecake?"

"No idea. Marielle was in charge of the food committee," replied Elizabeth. "I suppose she could have had the mess staff make it from scratch. It can't be that hard—my grandmum used to make it from time to time."

"That aide of yours goes above and beyond."

The two women stood quietly for several minutes, alone with their thoughts and the stars.

"You don't happen to have the time, do you, ma'am?"

"It's 2132."

"Wow. I didn't realize that it was so early." Ruby glanced over her shoulder to find the tent still pulsing with music. "How late does this thing run?"

"I told Marielle that she needed to wrap things up no later than 2330. Even though she's technically no longer 'Ms. Vice', I left her in charge."

"I don't mean to be a party pooper, but I'd like to go home and get out of this monkey suit." Lieutenant Casler plucked at her skirt and the medals on her jacket jangled.

"No, go ahead," Captain Shaughnessy said with an air of distraction.

"Are you sure you don't want to come with me and play cards or something?"

"That's okay, Ruby, thanks." Elizabeth replied. "I was just debating whether to go back in or head out and risk Ms. Sullivan's wrath for dropping by so late."

"Bet when you were a kid with a curfew, you never imagined getting into trouble with someone else's kid!"

The two women laughed and Elizabeth did her best to make small talk until Ruby begged off and headed back to town. Captain Shaughnessy looked at the stars a little bit longer, until she made up her mind to use the latrine before walking back to her cottage. Padding around to the back of the tent, Elizabeth stilled.

Was that a stick cracking or was that part of the music?

She waited a bit longer and when she was sure that the only human-made sounds around her were coming from the after-party, she kept moving.

And stepped in front of the latrine just in time to see a middle-aged civilian trip over his own feet.

"Get in the latrine and lock the door until I tell you to come out." Jonah slunk out from the far side of the tent and trained a .44 Magnum on the idiot at his feet.

"No."

Out of the corner of his eye, Jonah saw that Elizabeth had drawn her tiny holdout pistol.

"Do I even want to know where that came from?"

"Probably not."

Captain Shaughnessy watched the other man struggle to stand. "Do you know this prat?"

"Joe Kelly. He's one of mine."

Elizabeth shot Jonah a look of disbelief. "Then what the bloody hell is he doing trying to pounce on me?!"

"That's what I'd like to know." Jonah made a "come here" gesture with his gun. "Joe?"

"Jonah?"

The elder smuggler frowned. "Don't play dumb."

"About what?" Joe asked blankly. "I was just going for a walk…trying to find the best place to set up my telescope."

"That would be believable…if you were actually carrying a telescope!"

Jonah had Joe in a headlock before Elizabeth finished "believable".

"You know what I want to hear, Kelly."

"Michael! It was all Michael's idea!"

"Murder or kidnap?"

It was too late; Joe was already asphyxiating. Elizabeth jumped a mile when she heard his neck snap.

"That was completely unnecessary!"

"Oh, I suppose you would have preferred to lock him up and then march out to the compound in your heels, M16 slung over your shoulder?" When Elizabeth didn't immediately reply, he added, "Do you know how hard the others would have laughed at you?"

"You are totally out of line, Jonah William Prowse," Captain Shaughnessy growled. "You have broken the terms of your house arrest, snuck out of town after curfew and murdered a man who had yet to be tried for attempted kidnapping, attempted murder or accessory to both."

He snorted. "I see what it is. You've got your baby, you've got your notch on the bedpost and now you're going to come up with some bullshit to send me off to Cheyenne. Did I get everything or were you planning another excuse?"

Elizabeth didn't answer but stalked off toward town, completely forgetting about using the latrine. Jonah watched her a moment before catching up with the captain in a few short strides and sweeping her into his arms.

"Time to go home."

Author's Notes

1A. According to Army tradition*, the dining-in is only for officers. However, as the event has been planned in celebration of the platoon's success, everyone was invited.
1B. For more information on the fascinating custom of dining-in, you may refer to the U.S. Army Command and General Staff College pamphlet 28.1.
2. No, Elizabeth hasn't had a sudden change of heart. She'll explain herself next chapter…don't worry.

(*Or tradition as of 1987, at least. Wikipedia makes it sound like there are only a separation of rank for certain events.)