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Vanguard Word Update
🕑 Added 2025-04-21 03:08:48 +0000 UTC2k words
***
They made their way downspin to the recreation centre, the gentle mutterings of voices and the faint scents of cigarette smoke welcoming them as the team moved inside. Cadell always appreciated how less sterile this place was compared to the torus – the soft carpets and the yellow lighting providing a warm onset to the eye.
At this time of the afternoon, there were only a few other soldiers milling about, concentrating mostly around the card tables and dart boards, one of the men holding a cue holding up a hand in greeting as they passed by.
“Who’s up for a round?” Hunter asked, gesturing at the bar at the far end of the facility. “Bit of piss for a job well done?”
“’Piss’?” Samiha asked. “why do you call alcohol such a vulgar word?”
“Because that’s what having Aussie ancestors does to you,” Kurtis replied for him. “I’m down for some booze. How about you Cadell? Kazlu?”
“Why not?” Kazlu replied, her feathers twitching in excitement.
“Is this really such a good idea?” Samiha asked, her interjection stifling the mood. “We just proved to the Lieutenant that we are capable soldiers, if he saw us drunk out of our wits…”
“Déjà vu,” Hunter sighed. “Every time we try to have fun in here, Sam’ turns into a buzzkill. We’re not gonna be getting shit-faced, just a little buzzed, that’s all.”
“Come on, Sam’,” Kazlu added, patting her counterpart on the shoulder. The nickname that Hunter had given her was rubbing off on the alien. “You must try some, human drinks have just the right amount of bitterness to them.”
“Very well,” Samiha conceded. “I suppose I did not get to try some the last time we were here.”
Hunter went to order from the barman, the rest of them searching for a booth, which wasn’t hard considering all the vacancies. Cadell squeezed into one side with Kurtis, Hunter sitting opposite when he returned carrying a tray laden with pint glasses filled with frothy beer. It seemed one round in his book really meant two. Since they were too big to fit, the aliens chose to pull up some stools and sit outside the booth, the springs of their seats wheezing in effort.
Hunter passed around the drinks, Cadell clutching the wonderfully cool glass in his hand. He noted Samiha’s sceptical reaction as she gripped her glass in both her hands.
“What did you get us?” she asked, peering into the foam.
“It’s ale, they have it on tap,” Hunter replied.
“And what is ale?” she pressed.
“Relax, Samiha,” Kazlu cut in, lifting her own glass to her beak. She opened her mouth to a sliver, allowing a small gulp to pass inside. “Drink, you’ll like the taste.”
Samiha pushed aside her reservations, Cadell watching as she morphed the end of her beak not unlike a pair of lips. It looked like it was made of keratin or bone, but the aliens seemed able to control its shape to some degree. She titled her head back, a visible lump travelling down her long neck as the drank.
“Hmm,” was Samiha’s report. “It tastes not unlike the berries of the Salt Flats.”
“Told you you would like it,” Kazlu said, then started to chuckle.
“What’s got you in a fit?” Samiha asked.
“You have foam on your beak. Makes you look like you have one of those human mustaches.”
Samiha’s arm was a blur as she reached up to wipe the mess away, the rest of them laughing at her reaction. She took it in her stride, looking down in an attempt to hide her own grin. If there was any negative energy left between them, it evaporated in that moment.
“Still can’t believe the sandwich idea worked back there,” Hunter muttered, sipping at his glass.
“But it was your idea!” Kazlu laughed. “You should be the last person to express doubt.”
“I didn’t bloody realise you’d all just go along with it,” Hunter replied. “It’s like when you’re at a party, and you tell the lads that we should all go to a brothel. You don’t think anyone’s going to do it, but then everyone does and you just kinda have to tag along with them.”
The group looked at him with a wild mix of shock and embarrassment, Kurtis breaking the silence. “I remember that night. Good times.”
“Human males are truly a strange lot,” Kazlu muttered, her crest flickering as she flicked her eyes to each of them. “Making up combative strategies on the spot, visiting brothels on their own, you’d see none of that on the homeworld or the colony.”
“How come?” Cadell asked.
“Our males do not play such a proactive role in our Clans as we do. That is not to say their work is unimportant – medicinal sciences, dew collection, caring for the young – that is the kind of delicate work that requires a male’s touch. I cannot express how unusual it is to see the majority of your soldiers are male.”
“You Balokarids don’t have any dudes in your armies?” Hunter asked. “What about administration, or support corps?”
Kazlu shook her feathery head. “It is unheard of. Our males are just not suited to combat roles. They are far skinnier and us, and much shorter in stature.” She demonstrated by levelling her hand at around shoulder height, which was still more than a head taller than the average human, Cadell noted.
“They cannot go airborne, either,” Samiha added. “Which naturally makes them weaker compared to a female. In a contest of endurance or strength, we’d outclass them every time.”
“It’s like a complete one-eighty to our society,” Hunter noted.
“Not exactly,” Cadell added. “We’ve got women in our armies. Not as many as men, sure, but they’re there.”
“You do not forbid them, then?” Kazlu asked. “I suppose your genders are not too dissimilar from one another, the range of your capabilities isn’t as broad as ours.”
“Forbidding women from enlisting would upset a few people,” Kurtis said, taking a hearty gulp. “Don’t think the prospect would ever make it to legislation.”
“Why?” Samiha pressed. “War destroys everyone it touches, would you not be glad to be stopped from going into it?”
“Joining the army is more of a career to some people,” Hunter explained. “You get a fat paycheck, and get to learn a trade to take back to civvie life. Not everyone’s a frontline soldier like us.”
“And yet they enlist them anyway,” Samiha muttered, taking another swig and ending the topic there.
“It’s weird knowing you don’t have men in your army,” Cadell began, steering the conversation back on topic. “Kinda explains why I’ve only seen female Balokarids on the station.”
“It is equally weird seeing only human men training to fight,” Kazlu retorted. “On Balokar and even Dur’shala, the native mammals defer to the bigger females in most cases. Is that not the case on Earth, or your colonies?”
“She’s got a point,” Hunter said. “There’re loads of species where the ladies take charge. Spiders, mantises, even birds. We primates are the odd ones out when you think about it.”
“What’s a Balokarid guy look like?” Kurtis inquired, Samiha deigning to answer.
“Their colours are much brighter than our complexions. They lack the darker stem bases, instead favouring more aggressive colours like orange, red or yellow. Their headdresses are also far more ornate, with a narrow shape that complements their slim builds. They lack wings, as I said, and their beaks are much shorter, not much longer than the snout of a human, don’t you think, Kazlu?”
“You’re right,” Kazlu replied, giving Hunter a look. “If your nose was a little bigger, it wouldn’t be far off the mark.”
“Screw you,” Hutner said, taking the comparison as a remark. “If your feathers were a bit more yellow, you’d look exactly like Big Bird.”
“Who?”
“A character from this old children’s show, don’t worry about it. How’s your drink, Samiha?” added, turning to the other alien. “You’re getting through that pint, want me to shout you another?”
“One would think you were trying to get me drunk, Hunter,” Samiha replied. “I’d desist on that intent if I were you, I am twice your size, even your most potent drink wouldn’t faze me.”
“It’s like that, is it?” Hunter said, Cadel knowing that tone anywhere. “Then I guess you wouldn’t mind a round of shots then, right?”
“I thought you said we weren’t getting shit-faced,” Cadell said.
“My integrity has been insulted,” Hunter replied, putting on a façade of being insulted. “I must defend my honour, Sir.”
“Just don’t go crazy,” Cadell relented as Hunter made to leave the booth.
“As the squad lead commands,” Hunter said with an embellished salute. “I’ll go assess the situation. Coming with, Sam?”
“I am content right here,” she said. “A juvenile drinking game, as I suspect you’re suggesting, is not for me.”
“So you’re chickening out?” he said, laughing at his own joke, but he wasn’t trying to mock her.
“I would be a fool to turn down free water,” Kazlu added, getting up from her stool. “I’ll join you.”
“It’s the furthest thing from water,” Hunter added. “At least, I hope they haven’t watered anything down.”
“What’s wrong with that?” Kazlu asked, their conversation fading as they made their way to the bar. Cadell could see the mar tender greet the alien with a welcoming smile, suggesting the two were on familiar terms.
“I gotta to the bathroom,” Kurtis said, Samiha making space for him, the leather cushions creaking as he shimmied out. Being left alone with Samiha would have bothered Cadell a couple months ago, but sitting in silence with her wasn’t awkward for some reason, and he didn’t feel any real need to fill the void with conversation.
Samiha picked up her glass once more, Cadell trying not to make it obvious he was looking at her. There was something odd in the way she drank, her beak was so long and could hold so much liquid, yet she took only dainty sips, as though she were savouring a fine wine. He recalled how precious water was in her culture, guessing maybe the same principle applied to all liquids. There was no danger of dehydration on the Hub, but maybe taking no more than a tentative sip was something of a habit among her species.
She met his eyes over the round lip of her glass, Cadell quickly focusing on his own drink. She started to speak, but Cadell was surprised to find she wasn’t calling him out on him staring.
“Cadell, how did you get here?” she began, and he quirked a brow at her. “You say you grew up on a farmstead, how does one go from that, to Kith’sla of a squad?”
He considered his answer, saying: “I was never really satisfied being a farmhand. It’s hard work, day in and day out in the hot sun, living on a schedule that goes all year round then repeats itself the next. Guess I wanted to break free from that, try something new.”
“You were unsatisfied with your colony?”
“Nah, it’s not that. Manildra’s a beautiful place, I miss it all the time.”
“Surely there were other avenues open to you?” she asked. “You are young, fit, was there no other work?”
Something was off about how she said fit, but he didn’t think too much on it.
“There were openings for expeditionists, sure,” he said. “People who go out into the wilds, scout the land and stake out good settlement spots, but Manildra’s pretty much the same climate all over the globe. I wanted to get out and see the Galaxy, not just fields of grass.”
“So this isn’t a career to you, like Hunter said some humans see the military as. But, isn’t human space gigantic? Do you not have trade routes, ships you can hire?”
“You think a farmhand like me could afford to hire out a ship?” Cadell chuckled. “I suppose if I saved up I could have picked up an old rigger, but after spending my whole teens hearing about how the Confederates were raiding the Outer Reaches, that even Manildra wasn’t safe, I got to thinking on how I could help. The Alliance takes me in, and I get to see parts of the Reaches I’d never get to see as a rancher. Win-win in my books.”
