"I think he showed excellent judgement in bringing us directly to you," Phule interrupted. "I think you will find what I have to say very interesting-and very much to your advantage."

"And you are?" asked the rebel leader, glaring at Phule.

"Captain Jester, Space Legion," said Phule, with a little nod. "With me is Chaplain Rev, as well as my chauffeur and my personal butler. And whom am I speaking to?"

"A chauffeur and a butler, eh?" said the rebel leader. "And a chaplain, too. That's a first, for sure-most people who come looking for me bring along an infantry brigade or so." Belatedly, remembering that Phule had asked his name, he puffed up his chest and said, "I am Le Duc Taep, Provisional President of the Restored Republic of New Atlantis."

"Ah, then I am speaking to the right man," said Phule. "Mr. President, I have come to show you how to win your revolution."

"What did you say?" said Le Duc Taep. He looked at Phule's uniform again. "Aren't you from the peacekeeping team?"

"That is correct. In fact, I am its commanding officer," said Phule, smiling broadly.

"You!" Le Duc Taep rose to his feet and pointed at Phule, "You are the officer formerly known as Captain Scaramouche?"

Phule's smile didn't waver. "Mr. President, perhaps you aren't familiar with our Legion traditions. A legionnaire's previous identity is unimportant. Even when a member has been..."

"You are Scaramouche!" shouted Le Duc Taep. He turned to Buster and the guards and exclaimed, "Seize him!"

"Salutations, Lieutenant Strongarm!" Flight Leftenant Qual came bouncing into Comm Central, located in the penthouse suite of the Landoor Plaza.

Armstrong looked up from the printout he was scanning. "Good morning, Qual. What's the good word?"

"If you mean news of Captain Clown, I am afraid the word is a bad one," said Qual. "Or no word at all, to be more exact. Have you received intelligence of him?"

"Heard nothing," said Tusk-anini, stationed behind a bank of electronic intelligence monitors. "Best guess is rebels holding captain prisoner."

"This comes of acting like the hero of some holodrama," said Armstrong. He slapped the printout down on the desktop with a degree of force that underscored his frustration. "Going out to find the rebel camp was like asking to be taken prisoner. We can only hope the rebels have sense enough to keep him alive. As long as he's alive, at least we've got a chance to rescue him."

"Well spoken, Strongarm," said Qual. "With resources of this company, such should be within ready capability. But a clever plan must be made before commencing, no?"

"Before even that, we have to figure out where the rebels are," said Armstrong. "Of course, the captain went squiring off without bothering to leave an itinerary. I suppose he went out and followed his nose, so maybe we could find them the same way. But even if we find their main camp, there's no guarantee the captain's there..."

"No, but that a good place to start," said Tusk-anini. "We find rebel camp, then good chance we also find somebody know where captain is."

"Tusk-anini speaks reason," said Qual, flashing his allosaurus grin. "You dispatch your best jungle scouts, and when you find the rebel camp, you will find Captain Clown."

"Best jungle scouts," mused Armstrong. "Now there's a specialty we haven't had to identify before. The Gambolts would probably be good at that. Who else...?"

"Yours truly was hatched and nurtured in an environment not dissimilar to this world's, I hasten to inform you," said Qual. "I would eagerly volunteer to direct such a hazarding, if you wish to make use of my native competencies."

Armstrong rubbed his chin, then said, "I'd have to run that past Lieutenant Rembrandt-she's officially in command in the captain's absence. The question would be whether a foreign officer should lead Legion troops."

"If Qual best for doing job, why he not do it?" asked Tusk-anini.

Armstrong shook his head. "That's your problem, Tusk-anini: You've never really understood why we in the military have to do things a certain way..."

"Understand perfectly," grunted Tusk-a-nini. "Too polite to say what think about it."

"I admire your support, Voltonish friend," Qual said, grinning. "But Lieutenant Strongarm is correct. Shackle of command must be followed. We shall request approval of this plan from Lieutenant Rembrandt. Perhaps, though, it is best to approach her with a fully realized stratagem. Oh Layer-of-Eggs, do our computers indicate which legionnaires are from planets similar to this in terrain?"

"aghidpgtie," said Mother, who had been doing her best to ignore the presence of others in her work area until addressed directly. But she began punching search parameters into her keyboard, and soon Qual and Armstrong were working on the tentative rescue plan. It was a wild idea, even for the Omega Mob, but as he reviewed the plan, Armstrong began to think it might work...

"What are you waiting for?" shouted Le Duc Taep, pointing at Phule. "Seize him!" There was a stunned moment of silence in the rebel camp.

"Uh, do you mean that like literally, Taep?" said Buster, scratching his jawbone below the right ear. "We pretty much got him in hand, y'know. You want us to hog-tie him or somethin'?"

"Secure him so he can't escape, you idiots!" shouted Le Duc Taep, stepping around the folding table. "This man is one of the greatest enemies of the revolution!"

The guards raised their weapons, suddenly looking alert. Buster stepped over and put a hand on Phule's shoulder. "Don't you or your friends try nothing funny, OK? If Taep's tellin' the truth, you might be in a good bit o' trouble."

"I fail to see how that's so," said Phule, returning Le Duc Taep's gaze. "Even if I admitted being Captain Scaramouche-which I haven't-my position within the Federation peacekeeping force gives me diplomatic immunity. It would be very unwise to interfere with me in the course of my duties."

"Unwise?" said Le Duc Taep. He sneered. "There is wisdom, and there is satisfaction. I mean to have my satisfaction, and whatever follows I will take in stride."

"Now, just a minute, Taep," said Buster, leaning on the butt of his weapon. "Your satisfaction is dandy, but so far I ain't heard what's in it for the grunts. Say we execute this bird, and the Federation sends in a battle cruiser to vamp on us. What do the kids out there get in the way of satisfaction while they're dodgin' the assault lasers and pocket nukes?"

"They will have helped punish the greatest enemy of New Atlantis!" replied Le Duc Taep, but some of the bluster had gone out of his voice.

"Really?" said Buster. The way he said it, the word rhymed with silly. He paused before continuing. "Seems to me there's a few guys sittin' in Government House back in Landoor City that fill them shoes better than this here fella. Then again, maybe he has done somethin' worth risking that battle cruiser for to get back at him. But you still ain't told us what it is."

"That's right, Taep," said a guard, and another chimed in with, "Yeah, what's he done?"

Le Duc Taep pointed at Phule. "This is the man who ordered the scurrilous attack on the peace conference, further humiliating us at the moment of our capitulation!"

"Oh, yeah, I heard about that," said Buster. "You and the other brass got your pants singed pretty good, didn't you?" He turned to Phule. "He tellin' the truth?"

"Well..." Phule began, "I think I should point out that nobody was killed..."

Rev put his hand on Phule's shoulder. "Y'know, there's more to this situation than meets the eyeball."

"What say?" said Buster, frowning. "Seems to me, either he done it or he didn't."

"He did do it," said Le Duc Taep, his confidence returning. "Otherwise, he'd simply deny it."

"You got a good point there," said Buster. "But let me hear this other bird's point he's tryin' to make."