The manager frowned. “Excuse me?”
“I don’t think you were quite clear enough on that last part, Lieutenant,” Phule observed.
“A debt of gratitude,” the Legionnaire corrected. “We wouldn’t be where we are now if it weren’t for you.”
“Oh. Uh … thank you,” Bombest said with a hesitant smile.
“Now that that’s taken care of, Lieutenant,” Phule said, the grin still on his face, “I believe we were about to have a little talk?”
“Umm … actually sir, I thought I’d …”
“Now, Lieutenant.”
“Yes, sir!”
With the eager step of a man on his way to the gallows, Armstrong followed his commander into one of the lobby’s more secluded nooks.
“Now then, Lieutenant,” Phule said with a tight smile, “it seems there’s at least one item that was omitted in your `no problems’ report. What do you know about this reporter thing?”
“The incident occurred during Lieutenant Rembrandt’s shift, sir,” Armstrong said. “In fact, she’s probably the best person to fill you in on-“
“I didn’t ask when it happened,” the commander interrupted. “I asked what you know about it.”
Though maintaining his deadpan expression for armor, Armstrong winced internally. There was a tradition in the Space Legion that while it was acknowledged that the Legionnaires would, and did, play fast and loose with the truth when dealing with those outside the Legion, within their own ranks, they were required to tell the truth. In reaction to this, Legionnaires had also become masters at the art of evasive answers and shamelessly diverting the subject of a conversation, which usually worked except for times, like this, when confronted insistently with a direct question.