The general leveled his best steely gaze at the reporter.
"Young lady," he said, "you are employed by the Interstellar News Service as a reporter... is that correct?"
"Yes, I am," Jennie answered firmly, though she was unsure where the question was leading.
"Do you feel that position authorizes you to negotiate a peace treaty with an alien race, such as the Zenobians?"
"Of course not."
"Excuse me, Ms. Higgens," Colonel Battleax said, breaking her self-imposed silence, "but if, as a reporter-or in any other capacity-you were the first to make contact with a force of potentially hostile aliens, would you feel justified to do or say whatever was necessary to remove the immediate threat to yourself and others, regardless of your actual authority?"
"That will be enough, Colonel," Blitzkrieg snapped before the reporter could answer. "I believe this interview is over, Ms. Higgens. We will release a formal statement of the Legion's position upon the completion of our investigation."
Turning on his heel, he strode off toward the spaceport terminal, with Battleax trailing along behind.
Bringing up the back of the party, Major Joshua made no effort to hide his grimace of distaste. He had been the silent witness to this argument between the colonel and the general for the entire trip here, and they seemed no closer to an agreement than when the voyage started. At least it would all be over soon, except that indications were that he would be placed in command of the Omega Company to oversee its dismantling and reassignment after the court-martial... for the general was determined that there would be one. The major viewed both these occurrences with equal lack of enthusiasm, yet both seemed inevitable.
"'Saved the planet from an invasion by hostile aliens,'" Blitzkrieg fumed, mimicking the reporter's voice. "Do you believe this bullshit?"
"You must admit though, General, it's a pleasant change to have the Legion getting hero treatment by the media, isn't it?" Colonel Battleax said, unable to keep herself from twisting the knife a little.
"It would be nicer if it were justified," the General snarled irritably. "From the reports that were filed, the Zenobians were scared to death and just wanted to get back off-planet with their hides intact. To my thinking, that's a far cry from an invasion."
Both the colonel and the major refrained from pointing out that the general himself had passed up numerous opportunities to correct the mistaken impression created and maintained by the media. By unspoken agreement, the Headquarters delegation was united in its desire to keep the favorable publicity generated for the Legion by the stories of the Zenobian "invasion." What divided them was the question of whether or not they retain that impression while punishing the man who was at the focus of the incident. Battleax didn't think it could be done... not that she had any real desire to punish Phule in the first place.
The party was ensconced in one of the spaceport's courtesy meeting rooms, the general having repeatedly rejected suggestions that they hold their proceedings at the facilities currently enjoyed by the Legion's company.
"Captain Jester does seem to have achieved a certain popularity locally," the colonel tried again. "Justified or not, he and his crew of cutthroats are currently the toast of the settlement. "
"All the more reason to get this over with and get him out of here as soon as possible," Blitzkrieg muttered, deliberately missing the point Battleax was trying to make. "What's the delay, anyway? Where is this Captain Jester?"
"He's waiting in the next room," Major Joshua supplied. "Has been since before we disembarked."
"Then what are we waiting for?"
"We're trying to locate the court recorder, sir. She seems to have wandered off."
"Shall we get started, anyway?" Battleax suggested casually. "At least with the inquiry?"
"Oh no," the general said. "I want everything legal and by the book when I nail this guy's hide to the wall... no 'procedural mistrial' loopholes for him to wiggle out of. Major, go out and see if you can find... What the hell is that?"
There was a loud rumble of powerful engines outside. The sound had begun softly as they spoke but had slowly risen in volume until now it could no longer be ignored.
Joshua had moved to the window overlooking the shuttle pads and was staring at something outside the line of vision of the other officers.
"General," he said without turning away from his post, "I think you should look at this."
The sound was from a full dozen hover cycles, whose Legionnaire riders kept revving the engines noisily despite their slow pace. What was even more attention-getting, however, was the procession they were escorting.
The entire company of Legionnaires was marching into the area between the shuttle pads and the spaceport. There were no flashy maneuvers such as the Red Eagles had performed during the intra-service competition, yet something in the grim determination of their approach made them nonetheless impressive, if not intimidating, as they drew up in full formation. Of course, this image was enhanced by the fact that they were garbed in full combat uniform and gear, including what appeared to be loaded weapons.
At a barked command echoed by the sergeants, the formation halted and stood at attention. At the same time, the hover cycle riders shut down the engines of their vehicles, and for several moments the resulting silence seemed even louder than had the earlier noise.
"What are they doing out there?" the general said as the three officers stared at the display outside their window.
"If I had to guess, sir," Battleax murmured, not taking her eyes from the formation, "I'd say it was a demonstration of support for their commander."
"A demonstration? It looks like they're getting ready to assault the spaceport."
"I didn't say it looked like a peaceful demonstration." The colonel smiled humorlessly.
"They've got clips of ammo in those weapons," Blitzkrieg noted. "Who authorized that? Whom did you put in temporary command when you relieved Jester?"
"Lieutenant Rembrandt had the most seniority," Battleax said. "That's her at the head of the formation. I believe that's the other lieutenant, Armstrong, standing beside her. Ummm... is it necessary for me to point out to you gentlemen that they're between us and the shuttle?"
"Do you want me to call the local police?" Joshua asked nervously.
"Those are supposed to be our troops out there, Major," the general retorted tersely. "We'd look pretty damn silly asking the police to protect us from them, now, wouldn't we?"
"Yes, sir. Sorry, sir."
"I want you to go out there and take command of that formation, Major Joshua. Break it up and tell them to return to their barracks and await further orders."
"Me, sir?"
Fortunately rescue appeared that moment in the form of the missing court recorder, who slipped into the room and took her position by her equipment, blissfully unaware of what was going on outside the spaceport. She was one of those drab, horse-faced women who gave lie to the holo-movie stereotype of the sexy secretary.
"Sorry I'm late, General," she said.
"Where the hell have you been?" Blitzkrieg demanded, finding a focal point for his anger and nervousness.
"Begging the general's pardon," Battleax interceded, "but isn't it more important that we begin the proceedings... without further delay?"
"Oh! Yes... quite right. Thank you, Colonel. Someone tell Jester we're ready for him."
The trio of officers barely had time to settle into their seats before the captain entered. With careful precision, he strode to the center of the room and saluted crisply.