“As to how to talk to Brandy, if you’ll accept a little unasked for advice, I’d suggest that you simply avoid approaching it as a confrontation. Oh, I know you’ll be nervous, but make it casual and conversational. It’s my guess she’ll go along with it without realizing her habits have been a subject for conversation among us. The less we have to resort to orders and threats, the smoother this company will run.”
“I’ll try, Captain.”
“Good. “ The commander nodded briskly. “Enough said on that subject. Now then, before I interrupted you, you were starting to say something about the Legionnaire you have the most trouble getting a fix on?”
“Oh. Right,” Rembrandt said, rummaging in her notes again. “The one I was thinking of was Rose.”
“Rose?” Armstrong snorted. “You mean Shrinking Violet.”
“That’s what the other Legionnaires call her,” Rembrandt agreed.
Phule frowned. “I don’t think I’ve met her yet.”
“Not surprising,” Rembrandt said. “If you had, you’d probably remember her. Rose, or Shrinking Violet, has to be the shyest person I’ve ever met in my life bar none. It’s impossible to carry on a conversation with her. All she does is mumble and look the other way.”
“I’ve given up trying to talk to her,” Armstrong put in, “and from what I can see, so has everyone else in the company. I mean, she’s a good-looking woman, and when she arrived a lot of the guys tried to get to know her better, but you get tired of being treated like you’re Jack the Ripper.”
“It’s the same with the women,” Rembrandt said. “Everybody seems to make her nervous. Heck, it’s easier to deal with the nonhumans. At least they’ll meet you halfway.”