'Inspection'
02-Nov-2030, 0400U
Tribunus Angusticlavius Kayla Stern, Daughter of Veritas
Legio XII Fulminata
Oakland Hills, California, USA
I stood with my fellow tribunes right outside the barracks area, trying to hide my shivering. It was in the low 50s, hours before dawn, and we'd assembled alongside the cadre in PT uniforms plus sweaters—along with "glow belts," Camelbaks, headlamps, black beanies, and a few other items acquired for the cadre in the last two days—under Evocatus Jackson's orders. The ex-praetor himself was talking with the legate, camp prefect, and the de facto head of Percy's Minions, Prefect Dakota Sanders of Auxiliary Cohort I.
"This is gonna be a hard one, considering that we don't have much sleep ourselves," Legate Reed yawned. "Hope you know what you're doing, Percy."
"I'd say so. Is there anyone not good to go?" Percy asked. After seeing nothing but shaking heads and hearing only negative replies, he nodded. "Okay... rock and roll, boys and girls."
"Let's go!" Dakota said, raising a megaphone and charging the barracks, the rest of Percy's Minions right behind him, many carrying megaphones as well. Some even carried empty metal trash cans and air horns, and one man even had some cymbals... for reasons that I still don't know (I think he was one of those overdramatic band kids back in middle/high school). Within seconds, chaos reigned in the barracks, courtesy of the cadre's rude awakening. Even from the outside, I could hear the cadre-induced cacophony:
"WAKE THE FUCK UP!!"
"INSPECTION TIME, INSPECTION TIME, MOOOOOOOOVE!!"
"MOVE IT, MOVE IT, MOVE IT, MOVE IT!!"
"REVEILLE, REVEILLE, REVEILLE!!"
"WAKEY WAKEY, RISE AND SHINE, BITCHES!!"
"SURPRISE, MOTHERFUCKERS!!"
"FIX THIS FUCKING PLACE!! HOLY SHIT, THIS IS GODAWFUL!!"
Adding to the chaos were legionaries visible through the unimpeded doorways, caught off-guard by the cadre's shock-and-awe tactics. While the evocatus, legatus, and praefectus castrorum kept discussing the day's plan behind me, the other tribunes and I decided to get a better look. Inside one barrack belonging to Cohort III, three instructors were simultaneously berating one legionary that made an error of some kind, while two others were loudly encouraging the rest of the contubernium to "SQUARE EVERYTHING THE FUCK AWAY!!" and "GET THE FUCK OUTSIDE IN FULL COMBAT GEAR!!"
Is this what the modern US military goes through? Holy shit!
"GET BACK HERE, YOU LITTLE BITCH!!" a female instructor screamed in the adjacent barrack, right after one legionary seemed to stumble out the doorway backwards. Whether an attempt at an escape or an accident, I didn't know, but the young woman paid for it dearly as she got jumped by an additional instructor. "WHY IS ALL YOUR CRAP OVER THE FLOOR?!"
"GO, GO, GO, GO, GOOOOO!!" an instructor nicknamed "Napoleon"—due to his small stature—bellowed behind me as he and two more of Percy's Minions rapidly corralled a contubernium outside with all of their equipment. However, the 5' 5" tesserarius of Auxiliary Cohort I was nothing short of a force of nature, putting the fear of God and Rome in their hearts as he disciplined the eight legionaries for mistakes in preparing their gear and themselves.
The contubernium under Napoleon's control was joined by two more contubernia that came out in full battle dress in record time. The legionaries were soon standing at attention with their furcae (marching poles) and pila above their heads, the weight of shields attached to their left arms somewhat counteracted by the weight of the equipment hanging off the furcae to their right.
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