"Come inside, gentlemen," Turner said calmly, motioning for them to sit down.
"Look, fella," the marine sergeant said. "I don't know who you guys are, but you're quickly moving from thirty days in the brig to a lifetime of bustin' rocks out on Devil's Planet. So, why don't we be friendly about this and I'll forget about the gun?"
"Tolwyn," the other marine said, looking over at Geoff. "Hey, you're the guy who told that senator to kiss your ass."
"The same," Geoff said calmly.
"Lieutenant, these guys are officers."
"Like hell they are," the lieutenant cried, trying to reassert some control now that there were witnesses from the base in the room who would undoubtedly discuss how he behaved.
Turner looked at the marine sergeant.
"Is Nagomos topkick still in the building?"
"Master Sergeant Ulandi? Yeah, he's down the corridor, he never leaves this place."
"Geoff, take the sergeant, get the topkick, and bring him back."
Geoff motioned for the sergeant to step out in the corridor and pocketed his own pistol, but kept it trained on the marine.
The marine led him down the corridor and stopped at a door just one down from an ornate plaque that announced the domain of the base commander.
Without bothering to knock the marine opened the door.
"Sergeant, we have a little problem here."
The sergeant major looked up from his comm unit.
"What the hell is this?" he barked.
"Sergeant, Commander Turner needs to see you," Geoff interrupted, while still keeping his eye on the M.P.
"Turner? Here?" The sergeant major stood up. Geoff could not help but admire the precise neatness of the old sergeant's uniform, which seemed ready to crack when he moved, so thick was the starch. As he stepped out into the corridor he casually looked over at Geoff and noticed the bulge of the blaster in the ensign's pocket.
"I hope your finger isn't on the trigger of that, Mr. Tolwyn."
Geoff was surprised to be recognized yet again.
"I'm sorry, sergeant, but it is. Commander Turner is having a problem with one of the admiral's lieutenants. If you would be so kind as to help straighten it out, I'll be glad to take my finger off the trigger and turn the weapon over to you."
Geoff sensed that this was not the type of man to push with threats. The tradition of an old top hand commanding, in many ways, far more respect than most officers was an ancient one, and Geoff knew that to cross it would most likely provoke the sergeant into going after him, and probably beating the hell out of him as well.
"All right, damn it. Let's see what the hell is going on."
The sergeant strode down the corridor with a precise, measured thirty-inch stride, as if he was walking on the parade ground behind his admiral. Reaching the door into the lieutenant's office, he stopped and Geoff could see the slightest flicker of surprise in his eyes.
"Commander Turner, sir. Now just what the hell are you doing?"
Geoff stepped up behind the topkick and saw a look of genuine pleasure in Turner's eyes.
"Gunny, been a long time."
"Yeah, Tabul, and I still owe you a drink for that one, sir."
"Forget the drink," Turner replied, and he quickly launched into a brief explanation of what was going on. Before he was halfway through, the sergeant cut him off and fixed his gaze on the lieutenant.
"Lieutenant, sir. I strongly urge you to let me get hold of the admiral right now."
"Sergeant, my orders are…"
"Pardon me, sir, but damn your orders, sir," the sergeant snapped, and, barging his way into the office, he got behind the lieutenant's desk and punched in a secured access code which connected him straight to Nagomo. Turner sighed with relief and seemed to sag against the wall.
"I flashed Iron Butt an Alpha priority," the sergeant announced. "That ought to get him stirred."
A minute later the screen flickered to life.
"Sergeant Ulandi, this better be damn important."
Geoff could hear the sound of a party going on in the background, Still keeping his eye on the two marine guards, who now seemed relaxed as if they were enjoying a show, he nevertheless edged his way to the other corner of the room so he could see the screen. Nagomo did not look pleased at all.
"Sir. We have a major crisis here. I think you better get Admiral Long with you."
Nagomo hesitated, then looked over his shoulder.
"Sergeant, if you make me look foolish you can kiss that topkick retirement money good-bye."
"Sir, I just hope I live to see it. Please, sir, could you get the admiral, sir."
The screen flickered off for a moment. The sergeant leaned back in his chair, fished out a cigar and lit it. "Against regs to smoke it inside, but what the hell," he said with a smile.
The screen flickered back on. The two admirals were standing side by side and Geoff could hear the shrill, angry protests of a woman in the background. Admiral Long looked over his shoulder, made a hushing noise, then looked back. The sergeant motioned for Turner to step in front of the screen and drew aside.
"Sirs, I am Commander Winston Turner," and as he spoke he held his ID card up to the screen.
"I remember you, Turner," Nagomo said. "Good articles, but what the hell are you doing? You look like crap."
"This better be good, Turner," Long interjected angrily.
"Sirs, just bear with me for five minutes," and yet again he launched into a recap of his mission, starting with Banbridge's orders.
The two admirals grew increasingly somber as he talked.
"You'll have a hard copy of the scan and the document in a moment, sirs," he continued, motioning for the sergeant to do an upload. The sergeant ran out of the office carrying a memory cube. Seconds later Nagomo stepped away from the screen, and then came back holding a sheaf of papers which he started to quickly scan through, then handing them over to Long.
"We'll get back to you in a couple of minutes, Turner," Nagomo said, and the screen went dark.
Frustrated, Turner stalked over to the lieutenant's coffee pot, poured a cup, and then downed it.
The lieutenant, wide-eyed, looked around the room nervously.
"Sergeant, I saw over three hundred planes out there on the tarmac, lined up wingtip to wingtip. Where are the pilots?"
"Most of them are undoubtedly down at Four Dollar Suzie's puking their guts out by now."
"How many hardened positions we got here?"
"Enough for a hundred."
"Can you call an alert?"
The sergeant sighed and shook his head. "Sorry, sir, I can't do that, especially tonight."
The screen flickered back to life. Another officer was now visible, while in the background the angry denouncements of a woman were clearly audible.
"The admirals are coming back to the base right now, sir. They should be there within an hour and a half."
Turner's features reddened.
"Captain, have they authorized a full alert?"
"No, sir."
"Damn it all, why not?"
"There is no clear indication from your information to necessitate that."
Turner looked over at the topkick, who came around to stand in front of the screen.
"Sir, things are getting a little out of hand downtown," Ulandi said. "Can I at least authorize the military police to start rounding the crews up?"
The captain hesitated for a second, then nodded. "Go ahead, sergeant."
"Thank you, sir."
The screen flickered off.
Ulandi quickly switched screens.
"Andre, the stuffs going into the fan, the Cats might be heading this way. I want every one of your men out on the streets in five minutes. They're to shut down every joint in town. Try and find as many ship's officers as possible to help you round the crews up, and start getting them back here now!"