Cobra Guardian: Cobra War: Book Two by Timothy Zahn

muttered under his breath. Creeksedge was only about twenty kilometers away as the leatherwing flew. Under normal conditions, a reasonably healthy person could probably walk it in four hours.
    But conditions here were far from normal. And they weren't likely to get any better anytime soon, either.
    He turned and looked out the window, his eyes drifting across the city skyline, his stomach tightening into a hard knot. Forest territory, plains, streams or small lakes--those he understood. He'd lived with that kind of terrain for the past three years, and he could travel those places with the confidence of knowing where the dangers lurked and the knowledge of how to evade or neutralize them.
    But this was a city occupied by enemy soldiers and warships. He didn't have the faintest idea how to function here.
    "Governor, we're wasting time," Poole murmured urgently.
    Treakness ignored him. "Broom?" he asked.
    Lorne looked at Nissa and Poole. Both of them were watching him, their faces rigid with fear and helplessness.
    And slowly, it occurred to him that whatever uncertainties he was feeling, the other three people in the room had it far worse. They were political creatures, adept at conference room maneuvering and backstage deals, but at their core they were just civilians.
    Lorne might not know the techniques of urban evasion and combat, but at least he knew how to fight.
    "Like Mr. Poole said, we're wasting time," he said, putting as much confidence into his voice as he could.
    "That we are," Treakness said, managing to sound relieved and annoyed at the same time. "Took you long enough. Poole, go get my bags from the bedroom."
    "Whoa, whoa," Lorne said as Poole started to leave the room. "What kind of bags? What's in them?"
    "The things I need for a trip to the Tlossie demesne world, of course," Treakness said. "Clothing, credentials, papers--"
    "Forget 'em," Lorne interrupted. "Everything except the credentials--you can take those."
    "What do you mean, forget them?" Treakness said, sounding annoyed again. "You want me to have to explain to a demesne-lord in his own audience hall that I've been wearing the same clothes for the past week?"
    "I'd worry more about how you're going to explain to the Trofts right here in Capitalia why you're packed for a long trip," Lorne countered. "You can take your credentials and any food bars or bottled water you have. That's it."
    "Fine," Treakness bit out. "Poole, go to the kitchen--there's an emergency bag in the cabinet above the cooker and some bottles of water in the cooler."
    "Better split everything into four packs," Lorne added as Poole made for the kitchen. "Nissa, go help him."
    "Yes, sir," Nissa said, and followed Poole out of the room.
    Leaving Lorne and Treakness alone. "We're bringing her, too?" Treakness asked quietly.
    "You were thinking of leaving her here alone?"
    "Frankly, yes," Treakness said evenly. "Troft history indicates they don't mistreat their conquered peoples, at least as long as the conquered peoples behave themselves. She could stay here in my apartment--there's plenty of food--and try to ride it out. And you know as well as I do that a party of three will be easier to sneak past Troft sentries than a party of four."
    "Why not just make it a party of two, then?" Lorne challenged. "Leave Nissa someone to talk to while she's hunkered down here."
    "Poole comes with me," Treakness said firmly. "Bad enough that you won't let me take proper ceremonial clothing. I am not traveling without an assistant. Period."
    "Fine," Lorne said with a shrug. "In that case, neither am I."
    "Nissa Gendreves isn't your assistant."
    "She is now," Lorne said. "If you don't like it, try to remember that this mess is at least partially your fault. If you'd headed directly to Creeksedge the minute North Bank picked up the incoming ships, you could have had your feet up in the Tlossie freighter before the first invaders even landed."
    "Believe me, I'd rather have done it that way," Treakness