Special thanks to MacPhail who helped with the encounrter with 2nd Co.
Welcome to the Legion
Or
The Corps is Mother
The Corps is Father
Jester is the Frakking Uncle Twice Removed!
Cedar Ridge Barracks
Enlisted Quarters
Alula Australis, Free Worlds League
Late Evening, 8 April, 3068
"Hey Joe you sure you don't want any help?"
"Thanks for offering Jas, but there are something's a man has to do alone."
"Yea, who you going after?"
"I'm going for the Trifecta JD, and dress up all three the FNGs rides."
"You are nuts! A Clan Trueborn?"
"Yea…I know, but sometimes the risk is the extra sweetness that makes it all worth doing!" Joe giggled "You should have seen the position Prince Victor's Victor was found in when he joined the 10th! It was on its hands and knees between the COs Atlas and the XOs Banshee. I earned this hat for that one!" Joe ticked the brim of his oversized Red Musketeer's hat with the emormously long purple feather.
"
No Way!?!"
"I have holos!, Lot's a holos. Well time to go out do myself, don't wait up."
Cedar Ridge Barracks
Main Gate
Alula Australis, Free Worlds League
Later Evening, 8 April, 3068
The vehicle neared the main gate of the Battle Corps base. Repairs were underway on the damage from the biker battle but there was considerable work still needed to actually "secure" the post. As the two guards were approaching the truck from Alula Australis Amusements and Novelties, Joe slipped out of a shadow wearing jet black fatigues, silk Special Ops gloves, ruby red sneakers, and his infamous oversized red brimmed hat with its meter purple feather. The cheesy spy music started at the same time he became visible.
"It's ok gentlemen, this is an expected delivery, you can stand down." He said.
"I don't see it on the list Sir." As the guard looked over the spectacle that was standing before him.
"Yea, they are right here." Joe slipped a Hundred Eagle note over a blank line on the guard's clipboard, "Under Charley Marik!"
As the first guard took the note, Joe shook the other guards hand pressing another bill into his hand also, "Thank you gentlemen, you have no idea how important this shipment is to me…remember I was never here!" Joe waved his hand in front of himself like a stage magician, and hopped up on the running board of the truck. He never saw the guards reach for their radios
Cedar Ridge Barracks
Mechbay, West
Alula Australis, Free Worlds League
Even Later Evening, 8 April, 3068
Heinrick Stramswold was one of the latest recruits to the Legion presently he was assigned to the "training lance". His
Zeus probably meant he hailed from the Lyran Alliance. It looked as though "Rick's"
Zeus was one of the 3020's models, and was packing a PPC in place of the AC 5 JDs carried. "Nice ride" Joe thought as he snapped a picture of the 'Mech wearing a tan and blue leopard print "caveman" toga.
"Now to get the Clanner's ride!" Joe mused. Marcus Wolf piloted a
Marauder II…one of the 4S models. "Duck feet" Joe thought "Yea Duck feet would make a great impression on this bad boy!" Then Joe saw a handheld holo-projector left on the foot of the bird legged 'Mech, affixed to it was a slip of paper with Joe's name. So Joe pushed the Play button;
An image of Leonidas faded into view.
Quote:
Staff Sergeant Mallan, as you know I have given Major Nicole my word that Marcus would not cause any trouble for the Legion. I did not, however, promise that he would not savage anyone foolish enough to in anyway molest his Marauder II. It would be wise that you ask your "friend" to leave this particular machine alone as Marcus does not have my sense of humor.
The image faded and Joe grumbled, "Dang it. He’s no fun!"
Joe went back to the truck and pouted, "Come on Gregor,
some people have now sense of fun."
Cedar Ridge Barracks
Mechbay, East
Alula Australis, Free Worlds League
Yup Still Later Evening, 8 April, 3068
After unloading the last "get-up" for Owen Glendower's
Commando from the truck, Joe thanked Gregor and gave him a tip for all his help. "This is going to be fun!"
Joe was just about finished attaching the inflatable to the
Commando's waist when he thought he heard some movement from deeper in the bay. He turned to look and saw nothing, shrugged his shoulders and started the inflation unit, causing the inflatable to partially rise. Then he noticed that it would interfere with attaching the foam bottom he still needed to put on the back of the
Commando if it fully inflated. So he quickly turned off the pump leaving the inflatable at a little less than half mast. Joe descended the ladder to the main floor and began to load the 'bottom' on to the scissor lift, and then things went directly south…
Cedar Ridge Barracks
Mechbay, East
Alula Australis, Free Worlds League
Late Evening, 8 April, 3068
“GET HIM!”
Dark figures exploded from the shadowy recesses of Second Company’s Hangar Bays and converged on the momentarily stunned form of Staff Sergeant Joseph “
Jester” Mallan. The huge purple feather on his large hat became the only indicator of his existence as he was buried under an enthusiastic avalanche of bodies.
“But I’m not done blowing it...” Before he managed to finish, he was buffeted around by many playful but firm punches and kicks to his body. As quickly as it had started the rough and tumble ended and the pressure on his body dissipated; miraculously his massive red hat remained on his head, its ridiculously long feather unbowed and unbroken. Still lying on his back and his arms pinned to the ground Joe blinked under the glare of the arc lights above as he took in the crowd that surrounded him. Colin Lohan’s face hove into view from somewhere near his left shoulder.
“Jester, you’re just so damned predictable.”
“Yeah man, the Captain wouldn’t even lay on a bet; it was such a sure thing.” said “Sparky” Patton.
“Hey guys its tradition and I only aim to please.” Joe flung out his brightest widest grin.
“So what the
hell were you doing to my ‘Mech?” David Glendower the newcomer stepped forward from the throng, his head silhouetted by a halo of arc light.
“It’s easy,” he remarked, “if you’re going to pilot that you might as well
go Commando!” Joe beamed knowingly at Glendower and the rest of the group. All eyes swung to the large sponge bottom that sat forlornly on the scissor lift and the half cocked appendage that hung just below the Lyran scout ‘Mech’s waist.
Wyatt Bradford collapsed in a writhing heap, hysterical laughter assailing the rafters of the bay. The rest of the group moaned in horror or chuckled with mirth.
“Oh for the love of god.”
“Well [crap] me dead.”
“Could you get one any bigger?”
“Bloody hell!”
“Truly you’re a master.”
“…oh stop. It hurts!”
“What’s going on here?!” The group shuffled apart to reveal Senior Lieutenant Jacob Warfield, “Dizzy” Pratt and Jamie Hepburn. The iron grips that held Joe to the floor were released and he sat up rubbing at his wrists.
“Evening Sir, just welcoming the new guy in true Battle Corps tradition.” beamed Joe. Ronin’s gaze flicked to the Commando then back to Joe, one eyebrow quizzically raised.
“Don’t tell me Jester…going commando?” Wails of hysterical laughter re-launched themselves into the heady heights of the ‘Mech bay.
“Hey Jake, you recognize true art.”
“Uh-huh,” Ronin smirked, “well in Second Company we have a tradition that only Smoke and Steel members can play with our units. But, in recognition of your good humour and, ah…special talent, I think it’s only fair that we show our appreciation and induct you into our illustrious ranks.” Hope soared in Joe’s heart; he may very well have got out of this painlessly. He pushed himself to his knees and began to stand.
“Thanks Sir, you’re a gentleman and a scholar.”
“Yea… I know.” An evil grin spread across Ronin’s face as he quoted Joe’s oft used quip and before Joe could stand he was shoved roughly in the chest and unceremoniously dumped on his ass.
“Strip him!”
The air around Joe was filled with whoops and cheers as the assembled Smoke and Steel troops descended on their beleaguered prey. He struggled with all his might but to no avail. Within thirty seconds he was divested of all his clothing except for his boxer shorts. Jamie Hepburn produced a bag from which garments were passed around the group. Joe’s arms were pulled up above his head and a dark scratchy cloth was pulled onto his torso. Unable to see what was going on he felt other garments being pulled or pushed onto his limbs and body till he was manhandled off the ground onto his feet. A different hat was clamped firmly on his head. The crowd parted and in a daze Joe looked at his body.
A black very tight scratchy wool jacket clad his torso; the sleeves were too short and ended around his muscled mid forearms. It was so small and tight around his shoulders and chest that his arms were forced out away from his body. From his neck hung a frilly white lace cravat, his lower legs were clad from knee to foot in thick creamy woollen socks and thin black leather brogues had been crammed onto his feet. He slowly raised a meaty hand up and pulled the hat off revealing a blue tartan cap complete with red pom-pom and a red wig attached around the edges. Of all the garments he wore, the most horrific was attached around his waist. A dark green and red mini kilt swathed his loins and stopped just below his hips.
The Smoke and Steel troopers pointed and cackled at him with delight. Ronin frowned, crossed his arms and stroked his chin.
“Hmmm…something is just not quite right.” Then Ronin’s eyes opened wide and he thrust his right index finger towards the high ceiling. “That’s it! It’s traditional that when wearing a kilt you go…”
“COMMANDO!” roared the crowd. Joe’s eyes bulged with terror and before he could protest a large meaty hand pushed at his back and his boxers were ripped from his body. Joe almost doubled over in pain and embarrassment. Fresh air flowed around his loins and he grabbed the front hem of the mini kilt and tugged it down. As he did the air flow increased around his buttocks.
“Nice arse Jester!” someone hooted from behind. Joe grabbed the rear hem with both hands and tugged it down. The men standing in front of him immediately recoiled away covering their eyes with their hands. “WHOA! Too much!”
“Aw Hell…not again!” Joe moaned.
Seeing his opening and grasped the moment before it disappeared. He scuttled forward as fast as he could towards the ‘Mech bay doors, both hands grasping the hem lines between his legs. He fled into the sanctuary of the night air, ears and face burning, chased by the hoots and jeers of Second Company.
When Joe opened the door to his and Jason’s room the men of Second Company and most of the enlisted personnel were still jeering and propositioning “Jester”.
“Thank you boys, I don’t think I could have ever made it home safely without you.” Gingerly grabbing the hems of his micro kilt and executed a proper curtsy, giving the men of Second Company and gathered Legionnaires a final Full Monty before closing the door. Their laughter roared through the closed door as he turned to see Jason staring wide eyed at him.
“Don’t worry, there are holos” Joe said as he inspected the hat and played with the red tassel. “Oh yea… lots of holos!
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