“Ah! Captain!” the governor beamed. “Come join us, won’t you? I understand you’ve already met Major O’Donnel.”
“Yes, I have,” the commander said. “I’ll admit I’m surprised, though. I didn’t expect the Army to send the Red Eagles on a simple honor guard assignment.”
“If it will make you feel any better, Captain,” O’Donnel growled, “it surprised us, too. It seems the upper brass has been reading the media coverage you’ve been getting about this hot-shit crew you’re putting together and decided they had to put their best foot forward to protect the Army’s reputation. Next thing you know, we get pulled out of a firefight and shipped off to here, with orders to take you seriously.”
From his tone, it was clear the major didn’t think much of those orders.
“Now, if you don’t mind, let’s get down to it. I want to get the terms of this so-called competition squared away so I can get my troops settled in.”
“I … take it you’re already aware of the competition?” Phule said carefully.
“That’s right. The governor here was good enough to send us word prior to our arrival.”
The Legion commander shot a glance at the governor, who smiled and shrugged benignly.
“It seemed the least I could do, since I contracted the Army in the first place.”
Phule decided to deny Wingas the pleasure of an explosion, though inwardly he was seething at the betrayal.
“Yes. I can see where that’s fair,” he managed.
“As I understand it, Captain,” O’Donnel continued briskly, “we’re supposed to settle who gets the honor guard contract with a series of three contests with independent judges. The Army picks one event, you pick one, and the third we’re supposed to mutually agree on. Is that right?”