“Maybe, maybe not,” Phule murmured thoughtfully. “I think we’ll-“
The shriek of his wrist communicator cut him short.
“Colonel Battleax wishes to view your classic features sir!”
“Oh great … just great. On the way, Mother.”
“I see you’re getting your usual amount of press coverage, Captain. Certainly taking on the Regular Army in a public challenge is an ambitious effort.”
“Look, Colonel. I didn’t know they were going to run the Red Eagles in on us. I’ll even admit it’s my fault for letting the media wave a targeting flag over us, but …”
“Whoa. Relax, Captain,” Battleax insisted. “I’m not trying to hassle you. I just called in to wish you luck in tomorrow’s competition. If you don’t mind my saying so, I think you’re going to need it.”
“You can say that again,” Phule said with a snort. “Sorry, ma’am. Didn’t mean to snap at you, there. I’m just a bit pressured trying to get ready for tomorrow.”
“Well, I won’t keep you, then. Just between you and me, though, Jester, do you think there’s any chance at all you can pull it off?”
“There’s always a chance, ma’am,” he replied automatically. “But seriously … I’d just go ahead and concede the close order drill except for the fact that I don’t think we should ever give up without a fight. I would have bet we could hold our own against a normal Army unit on the confidence course, but now … I don’t know. About the only thing that’s definitely in our favor is that, even though it’s supposed to be impartial judging, my crew has gotten in pretty good with the locals here on Haskin’s. It just might give us the home court advantage.”