Robert Asprin - Phules Paradise

"Are you mad?" Battleax sputtered. "I'm a colonel and the ranking officer present-"

"-who is on vacation and not in the current chain of command!" Rembrandt snarled. "Our original orders came directly from General Blitzkrieg. You have no authority over us on this assignment! In fact, as far as I'm concerned, you're just another civilian."

"WHAT?"

"My general orders state that I am to hold my command until properly relieved, and I do not accept you as proper relief."

The colonel gaped at her for a moment, then shut her mouth with a snap.

"Interpreting the Legion's general orders is not within your authority, Lieutenant!"

"So court-martial me!" Rembrandt shot back. "But until I'm found guilty and formally removed, these troops are under my command, not yours!"

Battleax recoiled, then glanced around the room. The Legionnaires displayed a variety of expressions ranging from sullen to bemused. It was clear, however, that they stood with Rembrandt, and there was no visible support for her own position.

"I see," she said through gritted teeth. "Very well, if you want proper authority, I'll get it! A call to General Blitzkrieg should settle this. I'd advise you all not to do anything rash until I get back."

She started for the door, but was stopped short as Lieutenant Rembrandt's voice shattered the sudden silence.

"All right! I want you all to bear witness to this! As of now, I'm using my authority to declare martial law!"

"What?" Battleax shrieked, any trace of poise or dignity slipping away at the outrage. "You can't do that! No one in the Space Legion has ever-"

"I've done it," Rembrandt returned grimly, "and it stands until someone overrules it. Someone with more available firepower than I have!"

"But ..."

"Lieutenant Armstrong!" Rembrandt barked suddenly, turning her back on the colonel.

"Sir!"

"There is an unauthorized civilian interfering with our operation. Have her removed and held under guard until further notice."

"Yes, sir!"

"Have you all gone-"

"Sergeant Brandy!"

"Got it, sir. Harry?"

"I'm on it, Top."

The supply sergeant clicked his fingers and pointed. In response, one of the supply clerks tossed him a pump shotgun, which Harry plucked from the air. Against his bulk, the weapon looked almost like a toy.

Battleax, stood stunned, sweeping the entire room again with her eyes. This time, no one was smiling.

"You're all really quite serious about this, aren't you?" she said.

In answer, Chocolate Harry worked the slide of the shotgun he was holding, racking a live shell into the weapon's chamber with a harsh sound that echoed in the room, and the weapon no longer looked like a toy.

"Easy, Harry," Rembrandt ordered, her voice still tight with tension. "Look, Colonel. We're going after the captain, no matter who gets in our way. Now stand back or fall back. It's your choice."

"You know, don't you, that they're likely to kill him if you try to take him by force?" Battleax's voice was suddenly soft.

"There's that possibility," the lieutenant acknowledged. '"But there's as much a chance that they'll kill him if we don't. You see, his father won't pay the ransom."

"It don't make no difference," Chocolate Harry put in.

"What was that, Sergeant?"

"You folks may know more about the military than me," C.H. said, "but let me tell you somethin' about criminals. They're lookin' at some serious charges now that they've moved up to kidnappin'. They're not gonna want to leave any witnesses around, and the biggest witness against them is the cap'n. They gotta kill him whether the money gets paid or not."

"We're the only chance Captain Jester has of coming out of this alive," Rembrandt continued quietly. "We've got to at least try. If we just sit around ..." She shook her head, letting her voice trail off.

"I see," Battleax said thoughtfully. "Tell me, Lieutenant, since you won't let me relieve you of command, would you be willing to accept me as a civilian advisor?"

Lieutenant Rembrandt's face split in a sudden smile.

"I'm always ready to listen to advice, Colonel," she said. "I'm still fairly new at this."

"You'll do," Battleax said. "However, there's one thing I think you should consider in your plans-something I get the feeling you've overlooked in your enthusiasm. There are large numbers of civilians in the complex who are legitimate innocent bystanders. I think it would be wisest in the long run if an effort was made to ensure they didn't get caught in your cross fire."

The two lieutenants exchanged glances.

"She's got a point there, Remmie," Armstrong acknowledged reluctantly.

"What I would suggest is some sort of diversion," the colonel continued. "Something to give you am excuse to evacuate people from the complex, or at least from the vicinity of your action."

"I suppose," Rembrandt said, chewing her lower lip subconsciously. "Maybe we could arrange a bomb threat or a fire alarm ..."

"Why not a movie?"

The officers looked in the direction of this new voice.

"What was that, Lex?"

"I said, `Why not a movie?'" Lex grinned, moving to join their discussion. "Just tell everyone you need to clear the complex for an hour or so because you're shooting some footage for a new holo. Believe me, they'll cooperate. You'll be amazed at how people bend over backward to be helpful if they think it gets them a closer look at the magical mystical world of moviemaking."

"That has possibilities," Rembrandt said, looking at Armstrong.

"I know I'd go along with a holo crew if they asked me to get out of their way," her partner admitted.

"It's better than a bomb scare or a fire alarm," the actor urged. "No panic, no bad publicity for the complex. What's more, we have everything we need to pull it off."

"How so?"

"That cameraman you were holding has a holo-camera rig in his room. It's not the same as they use for the big productions, but we can say it's a low-budget operation or that we're just shooting test footage. We've even got a recognizable holo star we can parade in front of everyone to be sure it all looks legit."

"You mean Dee Dee Watkins?" Armstrong frowned. "Do you think she'd go along with it?"

"Leave her to me." Lex winked. "Remember, I speak the language. It might cost a little, though."

"Set it up, Lex," Rembrandt said, reaching her decision. "In fact, I'll put the whole diversion in your hands, since you know more about this sort of thing than any of us. If anyone gives you any flak, tell them I've given you a battlefield promotion to the rank of acting sergeant for the duration of this operation."

She glanced at Battleax, who nodded her approval.

"Yes, sir," Lex said, snapped off a salute, and started to turn away, then hesitated. "What about the owner ... whazizname ... Gunther? Should I clear this with him as well?"

"If you want, Remmie, I'll handle that," Armstrong offered. "I've gotten the impression that Mr. Rafael is afraid of me, for some reason."

"Do that, Lieutenant," Rembrandt said. "But remember to ask nice."

Armstrong frowned. "I hadn't planned to ask ... just inform him of what we were going to do."

"That's what I meant." Rembrandt smiled sweetly. "Carry on, Lieutenant. You, too, Sergeant."

The actor moved a few steps away and triggered his wrist communicator.

"Lex, you rascal," came Mother's voice. "How many times have I got to tell you no before you stop tying up the airwaves? You're a gorgeous hunk of man, but I just ain't interested. Okay?"

The actor flushed slightly at the snickers that erupted from the Legionnaires standing close enough to hear, but pressed on with his new duty.

"This is Sergeant Lex, Mother, and this is an official call."

"Come again?"

"I said this is Sergeant-all right, Acting Sergeant Lex. I'm down here at the war council, and Lieutenant Rembrandt has just put me on a special assignment. I need your help."