“I think what the captain means, Mr. Bascom,” Rembrandt interrupted hastily, “is … if you could, perhaps, rephrase your statement?”
The instructor finally caught the warning in her voice. The Space Legion commander doubtlessly already knew the caliber of the troops under his command, but they were still his troops, and derogatory comments about them, however true, were ill advised.
“I … umm … just meant that your boys seem to show a real … flair for larceny,” Bascom said, backpedaling hastily. “I was just a little worried … Well, there’s always a chance that they might be tempted to misuse what I’ve been teaching them. That’s all.”
“I trust them,” Phule intoned in a voice that would have sounded more in place coming from a burning bush. “End of subject. Do you have any other questions?”
“No. I … no,” Tullie said. “That covers everything.”
“Very well,” the commander said. “Then, if you’ll excuse us, there are a few things I have to go over with the lieutenants. Again, thank you for your work with the company. Be sure to relay my thanks and appreciation to your instructors.”
“I’ll do that,” Bascom said, and fled gratefully from the meeting.
“Do you believe that?” Phule huffed after Tullie’s departure. “The man suspects our troops may be less than upstanding citizens!”
The three officers looked at each other for a moment, then exploded into laughter.
There was an edge of hysteria to their gaiety, not surprisingly like people who had been too long without sleep and under pressure who finally found an outlet for their tension.