Chapter 2- Malador Kid

On the dot of 900 hours, Val Armorr, Hart Druiter, Andrew Nolan, and Princess Projectra entered the courtyard dressed in their finest uniforms. The quartet was a bit shocked to find a large crowd gathered. Adults, yes, but mostly young boys and girls had shown up hopeful for a shot at Legion membership.

Projectra stepped forward to address the crowd. "Welcome to Legion Plaza and this month's Tryout. I have been informed that lots were drawn earlier and we will have ten candidates this morning. My name is Princess Projectra and my fellow judges are Karate Kid,"

Val waved to the crowd.

"Nemisis Kid,"

Hart grinned and bowed at the waist.

"and Ferro Lad."

Andrew started to wave, and then executed a half-bow.

Projectra continued, "We will endeavor to judge all of you fairly. Good luck to all." She waved to the crowd and joined the boys behind a table set up for them. "Who's first?" she called.

A tall, thin, white-haired boy stepped forward with an eager grin. Projectra smiled sweetly and addressed the young man. "And who might you be?" she asked.

"I am Trak Willpole and I came here from Perlite to join you guys," he stated with a huge grin.

"Slow down hoss," Val broke in, "this is a tryout, nobody is joining anything yet."

Trak's grin faltered briefly, and then resurfaced anew. "Yeah, yeah, I get it."He rushed to get the words out apologetically, " but you guys are gonna want me. I'm just what you need."

Hart leaned over to Andrew and whispered, "This is kind of exciting, right, getting to select the next Legionaires?"

Andrew nodded curtly without speaking.

Projectra spoke up quickly to draw Trak's attention from Val, who was dramatically rolling his eyes at the boys over-eager words. "So, Trak, what do you call yourself and what can you do?"

Trak's grin grew even wider. "I go by the nickname Malador Kid and I have the power to stop charging enemies in their tracks," he boasted proudly.

Hart and Andrew leaned forward with interest while Val lounged back in his chair shaking his head.

"Could you demonstrate your power?" Projectra asked politely while glaring at Val.

"Oh yeah, of course," the young Perlitian boy replied, then looked uncertain. "Ummm….could one of you attack me?"

Val slapped Andrew on the back. "Why don't you take this one, Nolan," he grinned at Hart. "We'll save the big guns for later." He ignored another glare from Projectra.

Andrew rose and moved toward Trak. "Sure, no problem." He stopped a few meters away from the boy. "Are you ready?" he asked.

Trak squared his shoulders. "Let's do it," he called.

Andrew nodded and shifted to his metal form. He swiftly advanced toward the Perlitian.

Trak lifted his hands and a look of concentration crossed his face. There was no visible result, but suddenly Andrew stopped his advance and began coughing violently. He fell to his knees and began gagging as Trak's grin returned.

The remaining three Legionaire judges watched in fascination for a few seconds before fascination became nausea, Projectra waved a hand before her face and wrinkled her nose.

Val rose to his face, a look of disgust on his face. "what the grief is that smell?" he yelled through his coughing before covering his nose and mouth with his hand.

Hart gagged and half-doubled over, and then straightened and moved to Projectra's side. "Are you alright, Princess?" he slid one arm around her waist and turned her away from Trak.

Trak continued to grin as Andrew attempted to crawl away. "I told you it was great," he chortled proudly, "see, he can't attack me." He pointed at Andrew.

Projectra pushed away from Hart. "That stench is your power?" she asked aghast as she continued coughing. At Trak's delighted nod she barked with all the power of a true Princess of Orando, "Make it stop!"

Trak lowered his arms and frowned, not understanding the Legionaire's anger.

Projectra drew a perfumed handkerchief from within her costume and pressed it over her mouth and nose. "Trak, make it go away." She ordered.

The youngster from Perlita blushed a deep red. "I….I can't," he stammered. "I'm not making it now, but the malador is heavier than air, so it…..doesn't…I mean, I can't make it go away."

"Grife," Val spit out, and then pulled his Omnicom out and spoke into it briefly. Within a minute a roboserver approached and using a powerful fan, began blowing away the stench. Soon all the Legionaires were able to once more draw a full breath, although Andrew Nolan's eyes continued to water for several minutes.

Trak continued to stand in the courtyard with a contrite, but hopeful look on his face.

Val helped Andrew, who had braved the worst, back to his seat, and then spun on Trak. "You idiot," he yelled, "Rejected."

Projectra raised her royal voice and spoke with the authority of one born to rule. "Karate Kid, that is not your decision to make alone," she barked and the three boys fell silent. She then turned to Trak. "Wait please, Trak, while we confer."

Projectra turned back to her teammates as Trak waited, hopefully. After a short whispered conversation she turned back to Trak. "Though your power is very strong, we all agree your lack of control would cause problems for your teammates and innocent bystanders. Thank you for trying out, but you are rejected for membership."

Dejected, Trak moved away as the crowd parted like the Red Sea of old to let him pass.

The four Legionaires reseated themselves. "Who's next?" Hart called to the assembled citizens.