Phule Me Twice by Robert Asprin & Peter J. Heck

“Yeah, but who are the enemies of the people?” said Super-Gnat. “It’s gotta be somebody pretty fierce to make the Zenobians call for help.”

Tusk-anini grunted. “And whoever, why they our enemies? They no hurt Tusk-anini. Why we need to go fight them?”

“Nobody’s said we’re going to fight anybody,” said Brandy, dropping her own duffel bag with the others in the staging area. “We’re advisors, remember? We aren’t going to get in any fighting unless somebody attacks us. Besides, nobody’s said that the Zenobians are being attacked, either.”

“Whatever you say, Brandy,” said Super-Gnat, but her expression was skeptical.

“That’s right, whatever the sarge says,” agreed Rev with his usual crooked smile. “We’re all just soldiers here, followin’ orders and waitin’ for our big chance.”

“We’re legionnaires, not soldiers,” said Brandy, frowning.

“Sure, Sarge,” said Rev with a little grin that made it clear that he didn’t think the difference was important. A couple of legionnaires-ones who’d had their face reshaped in the image of the King-chuckled.

Brandy frowned again but didn’t push the issue. She still didn’t entirely appreciate the chaplain’s influence on her troops, especially not when he said things that cast him as the troops’ friend and her as something else. There were times when a top sergeant needed to motivate her troops by intimidation, and other times she needed to be a confessor and big sister to them. Rev was doing his best to co-opt the latter function. It occurred to Brandy that part of the chaplain’s job might be to make things harder for sergeants. That didn’t mean sergeants had to like it.