"We've come here to do a job, the same as you," said the woman. "We're not going anywhere until we've finished it. When we do, it'll go better for you if you're on the right side, friend."

"Tusk-anini know what side he on," growled the Volton. "You not on captain's side, you not my friend. I no like people who call me friend when they not." He took another step forward, and this time the two IRS agents turned and hurried away.

"Captain! You're just in time-you won't believe what's happened now."

Phule was hurrying down an inside corridor to the company's command and communications headquarters to learn what progress was being made in the search for Sushi and the mysterious man he had disappeared with. But he turned at the sound of Dee Dee Watkins's voice. He already knew that her problems usually required far more time and energy than they really deserved. But to ignore Dee Dee was to risk escalating the problem. "Yes, Miss Watkins?" he said, trying his best to look concerned.

The tiny blonde entertainer was standing with her hands on her hips, looking as if she were prepared to challenge the entire fighting strength of Phule's Company if it stood between her and what she wanted. Considering that she was wearing a little girl's flowered pinafore and had her hair up in pigtails, her ability to project an air of menace was no small accomplishment. Perhaps she had some future as an actress after all, Phule thought to himself.

"Take a look for yourself," she said. "Lex has me wearing this ridiculous costume for the big closing number, all because he's jealous of me, and he's trying to sabotage my career."

Phule looked at the costume more closely. While it was clearly not designed to emphasize Dee Dee's major assets, it more than made up in cuteness what it lacked in sex appeal. Even then, it fit snugly in the right places, and displayed a very satisfactory length of leg...

He made himself focus on the starlet's face. "I'm sorry, Miss Watkins, I'm afraid my military duties have eaten up too much of my time for me to keep up with what's happening on the artistic side of the operation. If you're asking my personal opinion, I don't think you look at all ridiculous in the costume, but of course I'm no expert."

Dee Dee's frown deepened, "Well, Captain, I'm disappointed. If you'd try..."

Whatever she was about to say was interrupted by a shout of "Stop him!"

Before Phule could turn to see what the commotion was about, a small, dark-clad figure dashed out of a doorway leading back to the casino and cut directly between Phule and the actress, knocking them both off balance. A pair of uniformed legionnaires burst out of the same doorway at full speed. Somehow, they managed to avoid Dee Dee, but in the process they crashed into one another. One bounced off the wall and caught his balance against a small, potted frogwood tree, but the other went down-catching Phule directly in the legs. Dee Dee let out a piercing shriek as the captain landed on the floor.

"Oh my God. Captain, I'm sorry, sir," said the legionnaire who'd bounced off the potted plant. He rushed to help Phule upright, making little brushing motions as if to clean off the captain's uniform.

The legionnaire who'd knocked Phule down looked up with a dazed expression. His gaze paused for a moment on Dee Dee's legs, but quickly moved upward when he realized whom he'd decked in his rush. He clambered quickly to his feet and stood at attention. " 'Pologies, Cap'n," he said.

"No damage done, men," said Phule, looking at the legionnaires. "Gabriel, what's this all about?" he asked the one who'd helped him to his feet.

"We spotted a spy, sir," said Gabriel. "Right here in the Fat Chance."

"Gab'l sayin' truth, Cap'n," said the other. Phule recognized him as Street, Gabriel's partner-a lean, tough man from the slums of Rockhall. He could speak fairly good Standard, but when he got excited-as he was now-his accent was so thick Phule could barely understand him. "He comin' this way when we spot him. Bet for sure be followin' you."

"He might be an assassin, sir," said Gabriel, grim-faced.

"An assassin?" Phule scoffed. "I doubt it. For one thing, whoever that was you were chasing had a perfect chance to do me in not thirty seconds ago, and didn't. What makes you think he was a spy, anyway?"

"Not so hard figurin' that out," said Street. "He the wrong species-ain't no little lizards in the company. Got humans, got Tusk-anini, got a couple Synthians, hear we got some cats now. No lizards, Cap'n."

"Maybe he was a customer," said Phule, still dubious.

"Why he wearin' our uniform, then?" asked Street. "He spyin', you bet all you money on that."

Phule frowned. He hadn't gotten a close look at the small figure that darted past him before he'd been knocked down, but it did have a distinct resemblance to a meter-high lizard-and it had been wearing Legion black. Perhaps Headquarters had sent an observer to keep an eye on him without letting him know...

"Well, he's gotten away for the moment," Phule said. "You two men return to your posts, and keep your eyes open. I'll tell Mother to alert everyone for a possible intruder, and..."

"Got it already, darlin'," came the voice from his wrist communicator. "Small lizardlike alien in Legion uniform on the loose-that shouldn't be too hard to spot."

"Good," said Phule, musing. Hearing Rose's description of the intruder set something itching in the back of his mind, but he couldn't quite pin it down...Well, he'd figure it out soon enough. Meanwhile, he asked, "Any word on Sushi's whereabouts?"

"Nothin' we can use, sweetie, but we've got other news. We found out we'd recorded his conversation with the man he fought. It's in Japanese, but we've run it through a translator. I don't want to jump to conclusions, but Lieutenant Rembrandt's all in a sweat-the poor girl thinks Sushi might be about to defect. Listen to this and see what you think."

Phule lifted the wrist communicator to his ear, and the recording started, but as he began to concentrate on it, Dee Dee stamped her foot. "Well! I come to you with a problem, and what happens? First, two of your men nearly knock me down, and then you act as if I'm not even here. I'll have you know..."

Phule's concentration broke, and he looked down at Dee Dee, whose frown was deeper than ever. "Excuse me, Miss Watkins, I was listening to an intelligence report. If you'll give me one moment..."

"Give you a moment? Why, you haven't given me so much as the time of day! Lex is trying to ruin my act, and all you have to say is..."

"Captain, is trouble happening," said Tusk-anini, coming around a bend in the corridor. He hurried up, ignoring the fuming Dee Dee and said, "Two humans looking for you-they try make me tell them things, but I no talk. I think they want make trouble."

"Trouble? What makes you think that?" Phule knew that anything that worried the usually taciturn Volton had to be serious.

"They show me identification, say IRS," said Tusk-anini. "I don't know what that means, but Gnat tell me it big trouble, so I come tell you."

"IRS?" Phule repeated. "They can't have anything on me-my records are immaculate. Beeker knows more about tax law than the people that wrote it."

"Captain! I'm not going to stand here and be ignored," said Dee Dee in a voice that could have frozen the swimming pool in the hotel across the street.

"Yo, sucker, you the boss here? We been lookin' for your ass," said a gruff voice from a medium distance. Three large humans came down the corridor, practically filling it. Two of them were males, to judge from the long, unruly beards. All three were wearing denim and leather covered with metal studs, chains, and patches. Their bare arms showed a variety of tattoos, but they had in common a large red "R" with blazing jets on either side. The man in the middle was almost as large as Tusk-anini. He wore a German-style helmet on his head, a brass ring in his nose, and several more in each ear-one in the shape of a human skull. They swaggered up and stopped in front of Phule, the leader (or so he appeared to be) less than an arm's length away from the captain.