"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.

"I'm aware that you are all lacking in the abilities or character traits that usually define the so-called perfect soldier. I'm also aware that the perfect soldier doesn't exist in reality. I'm not looking for you to be perfect soldiers, just effective soldiers. 'Effective' means getting the job done with whatever or whomever you have handy... not letting the job or the world run over you while you moan about what you haven't got. You've all spent so much time concentrating on your shortcomings that it's hard for you to see your own strengths. That's where leadership comes in."

He swept the room with that gaze again.

"My name is Captain Jester, and I'm your new commanding officer. Since I've seen all of your files and know quite a bit about you, I thought I'd return the favor and let you know a bit about me... even if it means departing from the Legion tradition of secrecy. My actual name is Willard Phule, and my father owns Phule-Proof Munitions. As you might guess from that, I'm quite rich."

There was a minor stir at this information, but most kept their attention on the captain.

"Some of your resent the practice the Legion has of raising money by charging a fee for the commissioned-officer examination... 'selling commissions,' as it's often referred to. I won't apologize for the system or for using it to my advantage. Purchasing commissions was common at one time in the British empire, and they did quite well militarily. There is another tradition from that time I intend to implement, however; that the commanding officer supplements the units under his command with his own finances. I'll get to that in a moment, but first I'd like to make one point clear. I didn't inherit my money. While my father provided some seed money at first, it was in the form of a loan, long since paid off. I was a multimillionaire before I was out of my teens, and I did it by buying companies and corporations that others thought were losers and turning them into winners. That's what I intend to do with this unit. Developing and making use of raw material is the job of management, and if this company can't become an effective force, it'll be my fault, not yours.

"Now then, as to special gear..." Phule held up one hand and used the other to pull back the sleeve of his uniform, revealing a wide leather band housing a watchlike mechanism.

"You will each be issued one of these. It's a wrist communicator and can be used as either a paging system or a private phone. They will enable you to stay in touch with each other and with Headquarters at all times, and vice versa. As you notice, I'm wearing one as well. I will be available to any of you at any time, day or night. Obviously I have to sleep sometime, as well as take care of other matters of importance. At those times, my number will be monitored by either a clerk or my butler. I can be wakened or interrupted at any time if it's important... but be sure it's actually important or we'll have a few words."

"Speaking of my butler, you've probably heard of him if not seen him by now. His name is Beeker, and in addition to being my employee, he's also my friend and confidant. I have a great deal of respect for him, and would appreciate it if you treated him with the courtesy he deserves. I can't and won't order it, but I will ask it. Remember, however, that he is not in the Legion and therefore not in your chain of command. Anything he says should be treated as his opinion only and not an order or official policy statement from me or the Legion. Similarly you will find that he will respect and keep any confidence you care to share with him, so feel free to speak with him or in front of him without fear of it being reported back to me or anyone else in the chain of command. If some of you feel that his job is demeaning or subservient, I'll share with you the fact that after several years of working for me and investing his savings, he is currently independently wealthy in his own right. In short, he's working for me because he wants to, not because he has to."

"That brings us to another point. I don't know what plans any of you have for life after your enlistment is up, or if you're saving any of your wages toward that day. I do know that if you aren't preparing yourself financially, you should. Well, handling money is something I do well, and I hereby place that skill at the disposal of the company... just as I hope some of you will be willing to use your strengths and skills, however praiseworthy or dubious, to the benefit of all. I will be opening a portfolio of stocks to enable any of you who wish to participate to invest your savings or whatever portion of your pay you wish to assign to that purpose. While I can't guarantee success, I have never managed a portfolio that lost money. Personally I would suggest setting aside one third of your wages for this purpose, but again the amount is completely up to you, as is your participation at all. If any of you have questions on this, feel free to talk to me during breaks or off-duty hours."

The captain surveyed the room again.

"While there's a lot more to cover, it can wait. I just wanted you all to get an idea of who I was and what I had in mind for this unit. We all know, however, that talk is cheap, and I'm sure you're all more interested in my actions rather than my words, so I'll keep the speeches to a minimum for the time being."

"I'll be meeting with each of the officers and cadre members in my office after we finish here. Are there any immediate questions before we break up?"

There was a low buzz among the Legionnaires, then a voice floated up clearly from the back.

"We hear that the governor's decided to post a color guard on his office."

The commanding officer cocked his head.

"This is the first I've heard of it, but I'll check into it first thing tomorrow. Off the top, however, I don't see any problem with it. It could make a nice break from swamp duty."

"Umm... excuse me, sir?" Brandy drawled. "I don't think you quite understand. Scuttlebutt has it that he's invited Regular Army to perform that duty instead of us. They get to show off their pretty dress uniforms in town while we sit out in the swamp... same as always."

A low growl rumbled though the assemblage. Phule noted it, as his lips compressed into a thin line of annoyance.

"We'll see about that," he said grimly. "All right. Anything else that won't keep until tomorrow?"

He waited a moment, then nodded at the silence.

"Very well, then. The last note is that I want you all to assemble your personal gear and stand by to move out first thing in the morning. We're going to be moving out of these quarters for a while."

Scattered groans greeted this announcement. It sounded like the new CO was going to make them camp out while taking their measure.

"Why? Are you going to have the place fumigated?"

Phule seemed not to notice the snickers that answered the question which had been shouted anonymously.

"Actually I'm going to have the place remodeled," he said casually. "In the meantime, we're going to move into the Plaza Hotel in town."

Thunderstruck silence followed his words. The Plaza was the ritziest, most expensive hotel on the planet. The few times that Legionnaires had attempted to stop in the cocktail lounge for a drink, they had been driven out by the prices and dress codes.