Phule’s Company by Robert Asprin

“It’ll be the same as any CO would say taking over a new outfit,” she said. “First, he’ll tell a joke. I think it’s written in the Officer’s Manual that you have to open with a joke when you’re addressing enlisted personnel. Anyway, he’ll start with a joke, then tell us that whatever’s happened before is in the past, that he’s going to make this the best unit in the Legion. Of course, he won’t say how, just that he’s going to do it … which means we get drills and inspections for a few weeks until he gives up on this ragtag bunch and starts trying to pull strings to get transferred out.”

A few of the more seasoned Legionnaires within earshot grunted their agreement or simply grinned in amusement at the top sergeant’s analysis. They, too, had heard it all before.

“Basically you’ve got two choices,” Brandy continued. “You can wait him out, or you can toady up to him and hope he’ll take you with him when he transfers out of this sewer.”

There were several moments of uncomfortable silence before one of the newer Legionnaires voiced the thought that was on all their minds.

“Do you think we could get a better deal in another outfit, Sarge?”

The top sergeant spat noisily on the floor before answering.

“That all depends on what you think a better deal is. Standin’ guard in a swamp is no picnic, but it beats getting shot at. As far as the company itself goes …”

She shot a glance at the company’s two lieutenants fidgeting in opposite corners across the room and lowered her voice … all officers are pretty much the same, and none of them are good for much except signing reports and holding the bag. If you’re asking what I think of the working end of the company, the grunts, well … do you know what an Omega Company is?”