Robert Asprin - Phule's Company

"So what exactly is it that you propose instead?"

"I want to implement a training course to familiarize every Legionnaire under my command with the dangerous life-forms in the area. Once that's done"-Phule hesitated, then took a deep breath and continued with a rush-"I want to turn the machines off so that the crew are relying on their own observation and judgment to do their job. Realizing that if anything goes wrong the miners will be the ones to suffer, I wanted your approval as the head of the combine that hired us before putting my plan into motion."

"Heck," Daniels said, "I've got no problem with that, though I might have if you hadn't bothered to check with us first. There's not that much dangerous out there, anyway. Like I said, it was more to keep the insurance folks happy than anything else. Fact is, we used to get by without scanners or guards before folks zeroed in on us and started insisting we get civilized. You just go on ahead with your training. I'll take care of lettin' the other miners know what's goin' on."

"Thank you, Charlie." The commander smiled, relieved that his proposal had been accepted so easily. "Now then, as to the potential impact on your insurance rates..."

"Don't worry about that, either," the miner insisted. "Just tell your crew to keep those scanners handy even when they're turned off. Then, if we ever have problems or have to file a claim, we'll see about arranging a 'temporary equipment malfunction' or something. Much as those insurance types like to think up regulations for us, ain't seen one yet actually come out into the swamp to see if we're following instructions."

"I'd rather not start dabbling in insurance fraud," Phule said carefully, "but if instead we-"

The insistent beep of his wrist communicator interrupted him, and he broke off speaking to answer the call.

"Captain Jester speaking."

"Beeker here, sir. Sorry to intrude, but you might want to come down here when you have a moment."

"What's the problem, Beek?"

"Well, there seems to be some difficulty fitting the Sinthians with their new uniforms. Specifically the tailors are arguing with the designer that it can't be done."

Phule grimaced. "All right. I'll be down as soon as I finish here... figure about fifteen minutes. Jester out."

"Which ones are the Sinthians?" Daniels said curiously'.

"Hmm? Oh. Sorry, Charlie, a little distracted there. The Sinthians are... well, you must have seen them on duty. They're the nonhumans with the eyestalks and the spindly arms."

"The little fellahs? Sure, I know 'em. Nice little guys once you get the hang of listenin' to 'em. Tell you what, Captain. Can I talk to that Beeker fellah on your communicator for a second?"

The commander only hesitated a second before agreeing.

"Certainly, Charlie. Just a second here."

He quickly punched Beeker's com number into his wrist communicator.

"Beeker here."

"Beeker, this is Jester again. Charlie has something he'd like to say to you."

He extended his arm to Daniels, pointing at the microphone with his other hand.

"You there, Beeker?" the miner called, unconsciously raising his voice as if trying to cover the distance with volume.

"Yes, sir."

"Do you happen to know if one of the tailors you've got down there is named Giuseppe?"

"I'm not sure, sir. If you'll hold for a moment, I'll-"

"Short little guy. His face looks like a raisin with a moustache."

"Yes, sir. He's here."

"Well, you go over there and tell him that Charlie Daniels says that if he can't manage to fit uniforms on those little aliens--or a bowling ball, or a pile of gelatin, for that matter-well, then, I guess I've been braggin' about the wrong tailor to the commander up here. You tell him that for me."

"Very good, sir."

Daniels leaned back and winked at Phule. "There. I guess that ought to do it."

"Jester out," the commander said into the communicator, signing off before shutting the unit down. "Thanks, Charlie."

"Glad I could help," the miner said, setting his glass down and rising to his feet. "Don't you go worrying about our insurance, either. I figure we'll be able to work something out if it ever comes to that. Seems to me like you're going to have all you can handle just worryin' about that crew of yours. On that little chore, I wish you luck!"

Of course, my employer did considerably more than simply worry about the Legionnaires under him. Particularly in those early days of his command, he pushed himself mercilessly in his efforts to learn about the individuals that made up the company. As an example, the same day that started early with the call from Headquarters and that he first stood duty with the company and issued their new uniforms and met with Charlie Daniels about the use of the scanners, rather than call it a day, and a busy one at that, my employer summoned his junior officers for a late night meeting.

"To get started," the commander said, leaning forward in his chair, "let me reiterate that the reason for this meeting is to gain further insight and understanding into the individual Legionnaires we command by pooling our thoughts and observations. While the Legionnaires themselves can pick and choose whom to avoid and whom to be friends with during off-duty hours, as officers we are not allowed that privilege. We have to work with and utilize every individual in the company, whether we like him or her personally or not, and to do that we have to know whom and what it is we're dealing with. Is that understood?"

"Yes, sir!"

Phule hid his wince at the stiff response by rubbing his eyes as if tired-a gesture he did not have to fake. While he had tried to make his lieutenants comfortable on the penthouse sofa, and it was obvious they were more at ease with each other than when he had first spoken with them, it was equally obvious that they were still tense and nervous in the presence of their commanding officer.

"Also, let me apologize for the hour. I know it's late, but I wanted to do the first pass on the list while our memories were still fresh from today's duty, particularly mine."

He flashed a quick grin at the lieutenants, which was not returned. The commander sighed inwardly and abandoned his efforts to lighten the mood of the meeting. He'd just have to rely on time and familiarity to loosen the lieutenants up.

"All right. I notice you have quite a few notes, Lieutenant Rembrandt. Let's start with your observations."

Rembrandt stiffened slightly and shot a quick glance around the room as if either hoping he was addressing someone else or looking for an escape route.

"Me, sir? I... Where would you like me to begin?"

Phule shrugged. "Your choice. We're going to discuss everyone sooner or later, so it really doesn't matter whom we start with... And Lieutenant?"

"Sir?"

"Try to relax a little. This is just an informal chat to kick around our thoughts. Okay?"

Rembrandt drew a slow, deep breath, then nodded.

"Well, I should probably admit that a lot of information I have, I got from talking to Brandy, the first sergeant. I... I'm still trying to get a handle on a lot of the troops myself, and I thought it would be a good starting point."

The commander nodded. "Sound thinking. The noncoms work the closest with the Legionnaires, so we should listen to what they have to say whenever they're willing to share their thoughts. Go ahead."

"Probably the best approach would be to start with some of our more unusual Legionnaires," Rembrandt began, starting to relax a bit. "It's my guess that we'll be spending a lot of time trying to figure out what to do with or about them, so we might as well start early."

She paused to flip through her notes, then settled on a page.

"Proceeding on that basis, the one I personally have the biggest problem getting a fix on is one of the wimps. She has-"