“What are they doing here?”
It was Brandy who voiced the muttered question, though it echoed the thoughts of everyone in the huddle, as well as those Legionnaires positioned near enough to note the group’s approach. The answer was forthcoming, as one figure detached itself from the group and crept forward to join them.
“Sorry to take so long getting here, Captain,” Major O’Donnel said, nodding a curt acknowledgment to the others in the huddle. “We hadn’t expected to need our full combat gear for a simple honor guard assignment, and it took us a while to get it all unpacked and issued.”
He paused to survey the Legionnaires within his line of vision, then shot a glance back at his own Red Eagles.
“If you just fill me in on what you’ve got so far, I’ll get my troops disbursed. Then you can pull your force out a few at a time while we cover you.”
“Excuse me Major,” Phule said coldly, “but what exactly do you think you’re trying to pull here?”
“Pull?” O’Donnel was genuinely puzzled. “I’m not trying to ‘pull’ anything. We’re simply taking command of the situation.”
“By what authority?”
“Oh, come now, Captain. Isn’t it obvious? Dealing with a new alien race, particularly one which is potentially hostile, is much more in the Army’s line than the Legion’s.”
“I don’t think it’s all that obvious.”
“Do you mean to say you think …
“In fact,” the Legion commander continued, raising his voice slightly to cut off the major’s protests, “what’s obvious to me is that the Legion has been contracted to protect Haskin’s citizens from whatever dwells in or comes out of these swamps, and that you and your force, Major, are interfering with our operation. Now, while I appreciate your offer of help, and would love nothing better than discussing military protocol with you, we’re rather busy at the moment. Would you kindly take your force and retire?”