“You want authority?” O’Donnel said tightly, fighting to control his temper. “All right. I’ll play your game. Pass me one of your communicators and I’ll get authorization for you.”
“I’m sorry, Major. Our communication network is for Legion personnel only. I’m afraid you’ll have to hike back to the settlement to find and open-“
“Damn it, Willard!” the major exploded. “By what right do you have the gall to try to give orders to a unit of the Regular Army?”
“Well, Matthew,” Phule said softly, “how about because at the moment we have you outnumbered by roughly ten to one?”
O’Donnel was suddenly aware that most of the nearby Legionnaires were listening to their conversation and that an uncomfortable number of weapons were now pointed in the general direction of the Red Eagles rather than at the alien ship.
“Are you threatening us?” he hissed, still watching the Legionnaires’ weapons. “Would you actually order your troops to open fire on friendly forces from the Regular Army?”
“In a minute,” Brandy said levelly.
“That’s enough, Sergeant,” Phule snapped. “As to your question, Major … Lieutenant Rembrandt?”
“Yes, Captain?”
“Do we have any hard evidence that the aliens are not capable of shape changing or low-level illusionary mind control?”
“No, sir.”
“So for all we know, they may have the ability to disguise themselves as humans, even a people we already know, to infiltrate our positions?”
“Well … I guess so … sir.”
“There you have it, Major. If necessary, I would feel more than justified in allowing my troops to defend themselves from any intruders, even if those intruders happened to look like a Regular Army unit.”