One of them waved a scanner hurriedly in her general direction, then saluted. “Thank you, milord. The commander’s in a strategy meeting, but it’s not urgent—you can go ahead in.”
“More meetings,” Khem muttered, in a low growl. “They fight this war by committee, and wonder why they have not won.”
Ahene stuck her hands behind her back, the fingers of one curled around the other’s wrist. “I know the concept of meetings is more than a thousand years old.”
Khem’s sigh was slow and rumbling, like a mountain settling. He followed her through the gate. “Yes,” he agreed, regretfully. “But Tulak Hord could put those who wasted his time to the sword.”
“I’m fairly sure you’ve complained about those meetings, in fact.”
“I had not realized yet that they had become so much worse.”
“Look on the bright side.” Did Sith use that idiom? She decided she didn’t care. “We won’t be staying for this one. All we need is the safe route. The camp commander is only involved because—” In lieu of making a derisive gesture, Ahene shrugged one shoulder. “Sith, apparently. I’m not planning to get sidetracked by any requests.”
A grim, flat laugh. “Were you doing so, before?”