"Neither one," said Brandy. "We came as military advisers to the Zenobians, and we've been able to solve their problems without any fighting at all. That's doing a damned good job, if you want my opinion."

"But we have not been sent to another posting," argued Mahatma. "That must mean the brass don't think we've finished the job."

"Dude's makin' sense," came a voice from the back of the squad before Brandy could answer. She was pretty sure she knew who it was, but she thought she'd be better off dealing directly with Mahatma instead of being drawn off into side issues. At least, unless she, needed to divert everyone's attention from whatever point Mahatma was leading up to. The little legionnaire always had a point usually one that undermined some basic tenet of military doctrine. She still hadn't figured out what he was doing in the military. Luckily for Brandy, most of his points were too subtle for anyone but her and Mahatma to understand.

And she wasn't sure sire always understood them..

"The job isn't over," Brandy conceded. "But that doesn't mean we haven't done well. In fact, if we'd messed up the job, we'd damn well know it by now."

"Db, Sarge..." Another of the training squad had a hand up.

Brandy frowned. She'd hoped the answer she'd given would end the digression and let her get back to the training session. "Yeah, Slayer, what is it?"

"Db, if we were doin' so well, why did headquarters send that Major Botchup to take over the company?"

"Headquarters usually doesn't know squat about conditions in the field," said Brandy. "You all saw how out of touch the major was when he finally got here. Things didn't get straightened out until the captain came back from his trip to the Zenobian capital. And did you notice they haven't tried replacing the major. In fact, rumor has it, the captain's in for a promotion. If that doesn't mean we're doing things right, I don't know what does."