A knock came at the door. Lieutenant Rembrandt looked up and smiled. “Chocolate Harry! Come in and sit down,” she said. She put down the report she’d been reading. Before Major Botchup had arrived, she’d had the occasional report to read, usually something of importance to the company. Now she was drowned in reports, most of them irrelevant and unreadable. Any break from this routine was welcome. Any kind of break at all.
The supply sergeant nodded and took a seat opposite her. “Got a problem, Remmie,” he said without prelude.
“I figured as much from the way you look,” said Rembrandt. “What’s up, C. H.? Don’t tell me those bikers are after you again. We must be a dozen parsecs away from them. “
“Nah, nothin’ that simple,” said Chocolate Harry. He pulled his chair closer to the desk and leaned forward. “I’m worried about the cap’n,” he said in a lowered voice. “We all are,” said Rembrandt, also quietly. “He’s let this new CO’s being appointed over his head throw him for a loop. It can’t be easy having your command taken away from you.”
“Yeah,” growled Harry. “That really stinks-not that it surprises me, knowin’ the Legion like I do. This new major is pure chickenshit, the kind they only make at Legion Headquarters. He hasn’t started messin’ with my end of things so far, except for asking for a bunch of fool reports. If he never gets around to me, that’ll be damn soon enough. But that ain’t what I was worried about.”
“You said it was the captain…” Lieutenant Rembrandt paused and looked inquisitively at Chocolate Harry.