"Welcome aboard, Dukes. Garbo?"

"Here, Sergeant," said another Gambolt. The translator made this one's voice sound lighter and perhaps more feminine-as the choice of name also suggested-though the only outward physical distinction between this one and the other Gambolts was a slightly lighter build. Garbo had darker fur, nearly black, with a hint of a lighter colored undercoat.

"Welcome to the company, Garbo. Rube?"

"Right here, Sarge," said the third Gambolt, perhaps a few inches shorter than Dukes but even more imposingly built. Rube had gray fur, with slightly longer tufts on the cheeks, and its eyes seemed bigger than the others'. Its voice sounded a touch more jovial than the others', too, though that could easily be an artifice of the translator.

"Welcome aboard," Brandy said again. "Slayer?"

"Yo," said a scrawny human with a shaved head and a bone through its nose-it was difficult to determine its gender, as well.

This was the kind of recruit Brandy was used to. "That's Yo, Sergeant to you, Slayer," she barked. The recruit flinched, and muttered something that sounded like an appropriate response. Brandy nodded-she'd have plenty of time to get into the fine points of Legion discipline, such as it was. For now, it was sufficient to establish who was in charge. She turned to the next name on the list. "Brick?"

There were a dozen more recruits, all present, though none looked anywhere near as promising as the Gambolts. She finished the list, then turned to Armstrong and said, "All new troops present and accounted for, Lieutenant."

"Very good," said Armstrong, but before he could say more he was interrupted by a new voice.

"I'm a-gonna hafts take exception to that, Sarge," said a deep resonant voice. "I'm as much a member of this here company as anybody, and by the captain's own personal request, as it happens."