"Knock 'em over?" said Chocolate Harry, rubbing his hands together. "No sweat, buddy-I can sell you the same weapon the locals use. Guaran-teed to coldcock anything that walks, runs, swims, or flies. How many you gonna want?"

"Just enough for me," said the fellow, lowering his voice even further. "One, with the ammo-enough for a couple weeks hunting. Can you do it?"

"Like I said, no sweat," said the Supply sergeant He wondered briefly why a hunting party would come to a distant world without the weapons it needed to do the job. Did they come from one of the worlds where private ownership of arms was banned? "Say, it ain't any of my business," he said, "but it's kinda funny you'd come all this way without any guns."

"Oh, hell, we got lots of guns," said the hunter. "I'd jes' like to get somethin' a little bit better than store-bought for myself, anyway. If the other boys want to get their own, that's their lookout" Chocolate Harry wasn't quite convinced; what if they'd come to a world without a conveniently corrupt Legion Supply sergeant? Would this fellow have settled for the "store-bought"? Or was he trying to obtain the military weapons for some purpose other than hunting? Then he shrugged it off-it really wasn't his business. If there was money to be had, that was all he cared about. He smiled, and said, "It'll run you fifteen hundred bucks, though. And you gotta keep quiet about it-this is Legion issue, top secret stuff. Word gets out I sold it to you, both our asses are gonna be in the cooler for a lo-o-ong time."

"Price isn't a problem." said the fellow. "By the way, Sarge, the name's L. P. Asho. And you don't have to worry about me passin' along any secrets. I do lots of big government contracts, so I know how to zip the lip. I'd hope you'll do the same for me-I get the idea your boss don't like us playin' with guns."

"He's the last dude I'm gonna tell, believe you me, Asho," said Chocolate Harry. "Now, guns ain't the only thing I can put in your hands. You folks need any fancy food or drinks? I got real Galactic Bohemian from New Baltimore, in the bottle or in the keg. Or I got genuine scotch whisky from Aldebaran IV -they even got sheep to pee in the water, give it the Old Earth flavor. Or maybe you boys need some pills..."

"Naah, we brought all that kind of stuff with us," said L. P. Asho. "Maybe if we run low-good to know there's a local source for the better things in life. But say-you wouldn't know where I can find a good poker game, would you? The other boys can't play worth a damn, and I wouldn't mind that so much if they didn't know they can't play, which means they don't play-unless it's for the kind of money I throw the guy who opens a door for me in a fancy restaurant. And that ain't hardly poker at all, in my DB. A fella likes a little real action, where's he s'posed to go on this planet?" Chocolate Harry rubbed his chin. "Gee, I dunno. Most of the guys in Omega Company don't have those kind of bucks, either," he said. "We do have a little game every now and then, if you're looking for some action. Not a lot of money, y'understand-the Legion doesn't pay all that much, not even to fellows like me who've been pulling our weight for a good long while. But if you and your buddies are interested in something a little livelier, maybe we could get a few of the guys to show up for a five-buck ante..."

"That's the kind of stuff I like," said Asho. "What do y'all play?"

"Dealer's choice," said Harry. "Mostly pretty tame stuff like Anaconda or Hold 'Em. Every now and then something a bit funkier, like Aldebaran, or Texas Chainsaw..."

"So if a fella came in with a different game he didn't mind explainin' the rules, you wouldn't have a problem with that?"

"Oh, no, not at all," said Chocolate Harry, grinning. "Why don't I see how many of the boys I can scare up. Would tomorrow night be cool?"

"Very cool," said L. P. Asho, with a predatory grin.

Chocolate Harry grinned right back at him then revved the hover cycle and roared back toward the Legion base.

After a few moments, Euston O'Better came out of one of the tents. "What the hell was that noise?" he asked.

"Legion sergeant invitin' us to play poker," said Asho.

"Poker?" O'Better frowned. "Hey, I came here for the hunting, not cards."

"Sonny, this is the best kind of hunting there is," said Asho. "Sucker hunting-and I think I just found me a big one." He rubbed his hands together and smiled-a very nasty smile.

First Sergeant Brandy hadn't seen the AEIOU team arrive, nor had she watched the hunters' shuttle landing, out in the desert. She'd been too busy with her squad of new legionnaires-none of them raw recruits anymore, but most of them still unseasoned, by her lights. This morning's training exercise had gone all haywire, and now she had to figure out how to make it- work tomorrow morning. It had started out simply enough: she'd broken the squad into two groups, then sent one of them into the desert to prepare an ambush and, after a decent interval, sent the other to try to find them without falling into the ambush. The spirit of competition should have spurred them to do their best, and in the process, both groups should have learned a good bit about the terrain around the camp and how to operate in it. Except the first group had gotten lost right away, in spite of its maps and instruments. That wouldn't have been all that bad, if they'd just chosen a more or less suitable site, set up some kind of position, and waited to ambush the second team when it came to find them. No such chance. Instead, Roadkill had gotten into a discussion with Brick about which way they were originally supposed to go, and most of the rest of the squad had taken sides with one or the other. Meanwhile, the other squad, which admittedly had the somewhat tougher job of finding the first, got itself lost even more thoroughly than the first. When Brandy had finally gotten annoyed and sent out a search party, she'd found the second team trudging through the desert-in an almost perfect circle around the first party.

In fact, the only thing both squads had done according to orders was to maintain comm silence so as not to alert the "opponents" of their position. And, since nobody had kept an eye on the emergency comm frequency, both groups were utterly unaware that Brandy had been trying to recall them for several hours before she'd given up and sent out the search party. Which, to her utter annoyance, had promptly gotten itself lost. It had taken most of the afternoon to finally get everybody found and back on base-luckily with no injuries worse than sunburn. And all this while the captain was entertaining the AEIOU team; which was snooping around the base looking for reasons to find Omega Company guilty of environmental offenses (with Barky ready to attack suspected polluters), and while trying to keep the AEIOU team from noticing the party of bigwig big-game hunters that had landed just south of camp and apparently insisted on instant VIP treatment. All this was enough to turn Brandy's mind, yet again, toward the prospect of an early retirement... and maybe, this time, Captain Jester wouldn't manage to sweet-talk her out of it. So Brandy wasn't really paying attention when an unfamiliar sophont in a Legion uniform came up to her, dropped a duffel bag, came to attention, and saluted. "Legionnaire Thumper reporting for duty, Sergeant!" it said.

Brandy looked up from the Training Progress Report she'd been in the process of deciding how to fill out. The new arrival was about a meter and, a half tall, dressed in regulation Legion black (although a good bit less stylish than the standard Omega Mob version of the uniform), and had long ears, big eyes, and a ridiculously cute wiggly pink nose. She stared for a moment, then blurted out, "Where the hell did you come from?" The legionnaire looked puzzled.

"Uh, do you mean originally, Sergeant, or just now?" Its voice was high and squeaky, though not unpleasant. And it didn't use a translator.