He sat up and grabbed the communicator. "Botchup here," he growled. "What's going on?"
"Trouble, sir," came Lieutenant Snipe's whining voice.
"I know that, you twit!" roared Botchup. "What kind of trouble?"
"We've got an alarm in Sector Blue, sir," said Snipe, whining even more annoyingly. "The guards on that part of the perimeter aren't responding to signals. Considering that we're in hostile territory, I've called a full alert, just to be on the safe side. What are your orders, sir?"
Botchup nodded; he'd been expecting something like this. "Stay on top of it, Snipe," he barked. "Keep me informed of anything that happens-anything at all. I'm on my way to the command center." He cut the connection before Snipe could answer.
The MBC's command center was, logically enough, immediately adjacent to the CO's sleeping quarters, a setup that Botchup would have been surprised to learn had been designed by Phule himself. But it showed in the details: the soundproofing between the work area and the sleeping area and the quick and easy access to every part of the encampment. Unlikely as it was that the CO's personal presence was required at a given point on the perimeter, he could get there in under five minutes if he was seriously determined to do so.
Botchup pulled on his uniform, ran a comb through his hair, and quickly ducked through the metal sliding door into the command area. A legionnaire was already on duty, a young human with long sideburns and a hint of a smart-assed expression. There was something about him that Botchup instinctively didn't like, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. Was there a hint of insolence, perhaps, in that little half-smile?
"You," said Botchup. "What's the situation?"
"Uh, we have a possible intruder, sir," said the legionnaire. From the voice it might have been a woman, thought the Major, though he could have sworn this legionnaire was male. Those sideburns certainly gave that impression.
The answer would just have to wait, he decided; there were more important problems right now. "Where's the encroachment, and what's being done about it?" he snapped, leaning over to peer at the readout the legionnaire had been consulting.
"Uh, it was over behind Chocolate Harry's, sir," said the legionnaire, gesturing vaguely.
"Was?" said Botchup. "Was? Are you telling me that it's already over
"Uh, no, sir," said the legionnaire. "It's just that-"
He was interrupted by a cheerful new voice. "Good evening, how's everybody doing? Is everybody feeling lucky tonight?" It was Captain Jester, wearing a freshly ironed tuxedo. A broad smile was on his face as he sauntered into the command center, and he swirled a martini glass in his left hand.
"Jester! Are you out of your mind?" barked the major. "The base is under attack-"
"Security will take care of it," said Jester, dismissing it with a wave of his hand. "Why don't we let them handle it. It's nothing you need to worry about, is it? You're here to forget your worries. And you've come to the right place, let me tell you." He lifted the martini glass in a salute, then lifted it to his lips.
"Damn you!" shouted Botchup, and took a swipe at the glass, trying to dash it from Jester's hand. "You're drunk! And out of uniform! I'll have you cashiered from the Legion-"
"The cashiers are on the first floor, right by the casino entrance," said Jester, nimbly protecting the glass from Botchup's clumsy swing. "Remember, you're here to forget your troubles. Have a drink, play a few games, and you'll find yourself looking at the world with a new attitude. Remember, though, play with your head, not over it. Well, got to move along. The place is really jumping tonight!" He spun around and was out the door without waiting for an answer.
Botchup was still trying to make sense of what Captain Jester had just said, and coming up short, when the legionnaire on duty said, "Uh, Major, you've got a call from Lieutenant Snipe."
The major snatched the comm set from the legionnaire's hand. "Snipe! What the hell is going on in this crazy place?"
"Excuse me, sir?" said Snipe. "As I reported before, we've had an alarm in Blue Sector-"
"I know that, you nincompoop," said Botchup. "Have you sent anybody out to see what's actually going on there?"
To Snipe's credit, he only stammered for a moment before answering, "Uh, sir, I'll take care of it at once, sir."
"If it takes any longer, the damned base is going to be overrun," barked the major. "I needed that report five minutes ago, you understand? Now do it!"
"Yes, s-" Botchup cut the connection before Snipe could finish and turned to the command center's sensors to try to make sense of them. As he quickly discovered, that was a lot easier to try than to accomplish.
The camp was full of black-uniformed legionnaires running headlong toward positions on the defensive perimeter. Jennie Higgins stopped to try to get her bearings; without the night vision goggles the legionnaires would be wearing, it was hard to make out details. She ought to ask the captain for a pair. No, she wouldn't. She'd accepted her last favor from him.
"Where do you want me to set up, Jen?" asked a familiar voice nearby. It was her cameraman, Sydney, ready for action despite being rousted out of bed on a moment's notice; there was a dark mass perched on his right shoulder that had to be his holo equipment.
Jennie looked around. "I'm not sure yet, Sydney," she said. "Can you get anything in this light?"
"Light? There's light out here?"
"OK, that answers the question," said Jennie resignedly. "I don't think the Legion would appreciate your turning on a floodlight just to get a few action shots. In fact, if there's really an attack under way, I might not appreciate it.
"I wasn't about to offer, if you want to know the truth," said Sydney. "Maybe we should just wait and see if there's any action. Maybe there'll be a few explosions. That'd make good footage, I think."
"I like good footage as much as anybody, but if there are any explosions, I hope they're way out in the desert," said Jennie. "I've got a lot of friends here in the camp."
"Hey, I didn't say I wanted close-ups of explosions," protested Sydney. "Out in the desert's fine with me."
Jennie said, "Good. Let's see what we can find out, then. This whole scramble might be just a drill, in which case I want to go back and get some sleep. Maybe one of the officers will let us in on the scoop."
"OK, just don't hold your breath expecting the time of day from Major Botchup," said Sydney. "He's about as helpful as snot on a doorknob."
"If that," agreed Jennie. "Let's see if they'll let us into Comm Central. Somebody there'll know what's happening. And if something is going on, there'll be enough light there for you to get some footage." She turned and headed toward the MBC, with Sydney close behind.
"Yo, Mother!" Chocolate Harry burst into Comm Central, sweeping past the startled Lieutenant Snipe as if he were invisible. "Cap'n needs a message sent."
"Sergeant, aren't you forgetting something?" said Snipe, frowning. He drew himself up to his full height, still nearly a foot shorter than the supply sergeant and not even in the same arm of the bell curve in terms of sheer bulk.
"No, man, it's cool. I got it all," said Chocolate Harry, paying about as much deference to the lieutenant as a battle cruiser would to a garbage scow. "Now listen, Mother, here's the deal-"
"Sergeant, this base is in a state of emergency," Snipe said, in a nagging tone of voice. "The equipment has to be reserved for essential military communications, and as officer on duty, that is my decision to make."