Free Phule's Paradise by Robert Asprin (rsv)

combat training will be available during the trip, and while it might not make you experts, it should provide you with the basic skills necessary to get you out of any awkward situation which may arise. Frankly we're hiring you as decoys, not as combat troops. If things do take a turn for the worse, you have my personal guarantee that your contracts will be `terminated with cause' from our end, and you will be free to leave."
          He swept the assemblage with his eyes. "Any other questions?"
          The actors looked around as well, but there were no takers. "Very well." Phule nodded. "I'll be trying to spend some time with each of you, individually and informally, during the trip in an effort to get to know you better. In the meantime, if you'll follow Sergeant Moustache now, you'll be issued uniforms and given your teammate assignments. If you would, please change into your new uniforms and report back here in an hour."
          He allowed a faint smile to flit across his face.
          "I'm giving a cocktail party to introduce you to the rest of the company and welcome you to our ranks. It will be a good time for you all to start getting to know each other."
     
    Despite my employer's good intentions, his cocktail party was something less than a roaring success.
          While the regular Legionnaires had long since resigned themselves to the inevitability of their new assignment, and had even accepted the necessity of breaking up their established two person teams, the idea of "outsiders" standing duty with them as equals was still unpopular. Though they were careful to keep their feelings hidden from their commander, it was readily apparent to a careful observer that little warmth was spared on their new "colleagues."
          This was particularly noticeable at the cocktail party ... though almost as interesting, if you are a confirmed people watcher like myself, were the opening gambits as the actors themselves began to jostle to establish a pecking order within their own numbers. Without blatant eavesdropping, the exact details of the various conversations remained a mystery, but the general content could often be distinguished simply by observing the body language of the individuals involved ...
     
    Tiffany was not used to being ignored. Not that she was beautiful in the classic sense-surviving as an actress required a brutal honesty which forbade her that particular delusion-but her mane of auburn hair, slightly slanted cat eyes, and ample curves exuded an earthy sensuality that usually guaranteed that men would make room for her in any conversation. As such, she found herself growing increasingly vexed at feeling all but invisible in a room filled by a crowd which was predominantly male.
          Fighting a frown (frowns cause wrinkles, darling), she surveyed the gathering again. The chairs from the earlier briefing had been pushed back against the walls, creating an open area in which the Legionnaires stood clustered about in small groups-small closed groups which seemed oblivious to all else in the room except those people they were talking to immediately.
          After having eased up to a few of these groups, only to finally wander away again when no one acknowledged her presence, Tiffany was ready to try a new tactic. Moving in a controlled drift, she took up a station near the mini-bar which had been set up at one end of the room ... like any good predator, waiting for her prey near the water hole.
          True to her observations, she didn't have long to wait. If nothing else, the actors had that in common with the Legionnaires. Neither group was likely to squander the opportunity of free drinks at an open bar.
          One Legionnaire detached himself from his group and strode over to the bar.
          "Scotch, double, rocks," he told the bartender in the universal shorthand of a confirmed lounge lizard.
          Tiffany gulped the remainder of her existing drink