Such traditions were not practiced in the Legion. Courtesy between the ranks was a matter of personal preference rather than required performance, and as such was generally ignored. His eruption did call attention to the fact that the new CO had just entered the rec room, however, and all the Legionnaires
craned their necks to see their new commander.
Framed by the door behind him and poised in a parade-rest stance that was at once relaxed and vibrating with restrained energy, the figure that had just entered the room dominated the assemblage with its mere presence. His uniform was a glowing black jumpsuit edged with gold piping and tailored to flatter his slim body. A rapier with a polished brass swept basket hilt that hung at his side by a baldric might have made him look comical if it were not offset by the icy gaze he leveled at the company. So unsettling was the stare and the silence which accompanied it that several Legionnaires nervously rose from their seats and drew themselves up into an approximation of the position of attention. The CO seemed not to notice, any more than he noticed those who remained seated.
“They tell me you’re all losers and misfits,” he said flatly without introduction. “I don’t believe it … though it’s clear most of you think you’re losers from the way you conduct yourselves.”
The company exchanged glances, suddenly self-conscious of their soiled uniforms and the garbage in the room. A few eyes were turned toward the first sergeant as if to ask what had happened to the expected joke. She ignored them, making a show of concentrating on the CO’s words as he continued.