Vanguard Update

3800 words

**

Scenario Complete. Please Remove Headset.

Ryan pulled the minuscule television off his head, rubbing at the marks it left on his face. Brindley and Dominic rose from their places on the ground, as did Tilu, her feathers fluffing up as she nursed at a shoulder. There were angular strips of light forming a sort of cage around the room’s edges, the holo-projectors pivoting to track whoever was closest.

“Reminds me of the first time I went paintballing,” Brindley groaned, rubbing at a bruise on his neck. “Just a thousand times worse.”

“That’s an accurate summary of your performance, team four,” Adamski said. The door leading out of the room had opened, the Captain scowling at them from beneath his officers cap. “Once, I had a group of paraplegics use this sim to test out their new limbs. One of them lost an arm halfway through, but they still did better than you. I have half a mind to…”

Ryan tuned out the Captain’s rant, directing his frown towards Samiha. The alien took the chewing-out in her stride, letting her fake weapon hang by her side as she leaned on a wide hip. If she’d been chewing gum, that would have captured her attitude perfectly. Was she gunning it so hard for him that she’d be willing to bring the whole team down just for spite?

The Captain dismissed them, telling the departing group that they’d be on cleaning duty for the next week, since that was all they were good for. As the simulation room shut behind them, Ryan checked the hallway for any more officers, then jammed his finger in Samiha’s face.

“Are you fucking stupid?” he asked, Samiha’s rusty feathers bristling as she blinked down at him. “Seriously, be honest with me. Is your bird brain really that small, or did you fail that sim for us on purpose? Either way, we gotta scrub latrines because of you!”

“It’s just a number, monkey-boy,” Samiha growled, shoving his hand away. “do not be so embarrassed that your precious score is so low. Then again, it hurts to be humiliated, doesn’t it? Don’t think I’ve forgotten about what you did at the range.”

She had taken his little prank a step further, perhaps he’d been wrong to be so cruel to the alien? No, he couldn’t pity her, that’d just make him look weak in front of his squad.

“You deserved that,” he shot back.

“Took the words right out of my beak.”

“It’s not just me you’re screwing over you know,” he continued, gesturing at the gathered team, who watched the exchange like they were watching a bomb fuse slowly burn out. “We’re all being punished because of your little stunt back there. You would have gotten us all killed if you’d rushed ahead like that in a real fight.”

“Don’t pretend like you care about them,” she snapped, one of her scaley legs taking a step, her beak inches from his nose. “All you care for is your precious numbers, Corporal. You just want to impress the Captain, you’d trade this team for another in a heartbeat if you thought they’d get you better grades.”

“I’d trade some over others. Red-feathered, ungrateful aliens who can’t think or shoot straight, specifically.”

“Oh, you’ve asked for this, monkey…”

Samiha clenched one of her hands, her fist almost as big as his head, a flash of alarm tying a knot in Ryan’s stomach as he watched it rise. She had the strength and the mass to knock him out cold in a single swipe, and that was best-case scenario. As he raised his arms to defend himself, Tilu stepped between them, shoving them apart.

“Enough, both of you!” Tilu exclaimed, her headdress roiling as she glanced between them. “Leave it,” she added as she grabbed Samiha by the shoulder, walking her away. Samiha’s face was full of malice as she glanced over her shoulder at Ryan, her eyes never leaving his as she disappeared round the next corner.

“You’re bolder than I am, Sir,” Brindley sighed when the aliens were out of earhsot, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t think either of us could have done much if she’d taken a swing, girl’s got the body of a roid addict.

“‘Roid’, Brindley?” Dominic asked. “Where was it you said you grew up again?”

“Yulara II, why?”

“No reason.”

Ryan hated to admit it, but he was relieved that Tilu had stepped in before things escalated any further. Being cooped up in the infirmary in his first week would put a serious citation on his shining record.

The three of them made their way back to their quarters to wind down, the two aliens already there. The silence between the species was thick and tense, but it wasn’t long before it was broken, a cleaner knocking on their door, buckets and mops in hand. He ordered the team around as though he was the Senator himself, but it wasn’t like they could talk back, the guy was under orders from Adamski himself, any backtalk would just get reported.

Tilu and Samiha needed a little more handholding from the cleaner, but soon the team was delving into every bathroom in the base, the humans and aliens separating, and Ryan supposed that was a good thing, he needed some time before he could spend another second in Samiha’s presence again.

It wasn’t glamorous work, but it had to be done, and they were mostly left to their own devices when other soldiers weren’t hanging around to tease them. Ryan took the opportunity to make a little small talk.

“You guys said you were Hub through and through, right?” he asked, making long sweeps with his mop. “You’re not ex-feds?”

“I grew up here,” Dominic explained, spritzing a shower stall with cleaning fluid. “Was dismantling Colossi before I enlisted, but the company ran out of work once we drained up the last wreckage in the system. Pay’s not as good, but it’s better than nothing.”

“You were a Cracker?” Cracker was the colloquial term used for miners who disassembled Colossus wreckages, because only the insane would be game enough to go out into vacuum with nothing but a laser cutter and start chiseling away at an ancient alien vessel.

“Couldn’t tell by his Sumo wrestler arms?” Brindley joked. He was scrubbing a sponge into the bowl of a toilet. “God damn someone missed hard over here!”

“What about you, Brindley?” Ryan asked.

“Yulara II colonist, as I said before,” the man explained. “Security guard on a cargo hauler that ferried goods between there and the Hub, though there wasn’t much point, pirates are few and far between this close to the station. Wanted a little more action, so I joined up.”

“And did you get any?”

“Nah, though I got other kinds of action, if you know what I mean,” Brindley replied. “Hub’s put a hold on all the attacking while we sort the Balokarids out, so the War’s a little slow out here.”

“Usually is,” Ryan admitted.

“What’s it like on the Fed side?” Brindley continued. “Seen any action yourself?”

“Couple times. You guys aren’t bothered about me being from the Confederacy?” he asked.

“Hell, boss, half the army is ex-fed,” Dominic answered. “We’d take your experience any day. You got Brindley to cover me during the sim, that’s a miracle in itself.”

Ryan expected there to be at least a shred of animosity when the ex-Confederates and the Hub forces merged, maybe he’d been to quick to judge these revolutionists. Of course, it wasn’t lost on him that Samiha was there to fill that role of animosity instead.

He told them of a couple of campaigns he’d took part of in the past, both when he was in the UEC, and after he went rogue along with a couple other squads. It helped pass the time as they cleaned out the toilets wing by wing, and it felt nice to be able to get along with at least some members of his team.

When they’d finished off the last bathroom, the cleaner came byt to check on them, saying he was impressed with their work, and would pass the word along to the Captain. As they put their supplies away, Brindley asked what they should do now.

“Cap kicked us out of the sim,” he said. “so the rest of the day’s open to us.”

“Could head down to the rec centre,” Dominic suggested. “I’d invite the aliens, but… y’know.”

The implication that Ryan might have an issue wasn’t missed. He took a moment to reflect. His outburst at Samiha had been very unprofessional of him, and it wouldn’t help anyone if he held a grudge with someone he wouldn’t be able to avoid forever. Maybe he should be the bigger man and try and put the stunt in the sim behind them.

“They can come,” Ryan said. “Hell, they should, we’re a team, or supposed to be anyway. Let’s find them.”

Samiha and Tilu were in their quarters when the three went to check, the aliens looking up as the door swished open. “You ladies done cleaning your half?” he asked, Tilu replying with a nod. “Us too. We were gonna spend the afternoon in the rec centre, wanna join us?”

The two aliens shared a glance, Samiha delving into their native language as they exchanged some unknown words. “Rec, centre?” Tilu asked. “What’s that?”

“It’s a place out on the torus where army guys go to wind down. There’s games, drinks, good place to hang out after a long day scrubbing shit.”

“That sounds like fun,” Tilu replied, leaning off her bunk while Samiha gave her a bewildered look from behind. “Better than staying in these cramped barracks, for sure.”

“Great,” Ryan replied, looking past her at her counterpart. “And… you coming, too?”

“We are supposed to be preparing for war,” Samiha scoffed. “This is no time for games.”

“Suit yourself.”

Tilu followed the three men as they walked back out into the hallway, Brindley clearing his throat to get the alien’s attention.

“You sure you wanna split up with Samiha?” the man asked. “You two’ve been tight since day one.”

“Don’t worry about her,” Tilu replied. “Samiha will come round, she always does.” The Balokarid leaned down to Ryan’s level, mock-whispering into his ear. “She has a hard time cutting loose, as I’m sure you’ve guessed, Corporal.”

“I want to apologise for my behaviour earlier,” Ryan began. “I shouldn’t have snapped at her like that, and I don’t have anything against you alie… Balokarids.”

“It’s not me you should be saying sorry to,” Tilu answered. “But, I appreciate the sentiment. Anyway,” she added, shifting the subject. “Tell me about this ‘rec centre’. You said there was drinking involved? Like water?”

“That and more,” Ryan answered. “Do Balokarids drink alcohol?”

“Alcohol, alcohol… ah, yes! We refined berries on the homeworld and the colony into their most purest compounds, among other things…” she added, though she failed to elaborate on that part. “In the Kaaleshi clan, mixing drink with fighting is strictly prohibited, is this not the same for humans?”

“They don’t let us have the hard stuff,” Dominic replied. “Just a shot or two per day, all moderated so you don’t get shit-faced while in uniform.”

“What exactly is a ‘shit-face’?” she asked, holding her fingers up to mimic air quotes.

“Just look at Brindley here after his first round,” Dominic chuckled.

They emerged out through the mess hall and onto the torus, the sweeping band of the Hub stretching away and up in both directions. They walked their way between the tall buildings, their facades all bland and grey, broken up by the occasional window, but the more ornate structures in the neighbouring wedges sparkled in the near distance. Tall spires of metal and glass wrinkled the surface of the torus, so detailed even though they were kilometers away, and at a different orientation.

Tilu angled her long beak as she drank in the sights, the alien pointing a nail and asking them about a giant circular building up the curve to their right. “That’s a stadium,” Ryan explained. “A place where thousands of people can watch a sports game right where the players are.”

“How humans managed to make this strange world, I’ll never know,” Tilu breathed. She awed over every little detail, even though she had to have seen the station in its full on her way aboard. Her curiosity was endearing, Ryan remembering acting quite similar when he’d first seen the station.

Halfway down the base they arrived at their destination. On the outside the building was very nondescript, but that changed as soon as the double doors parted to let them inside, Tilu having to duck to fit through the arch. The floor was carpeted, the shaggy material stretching to all four walls, providing a nice contrast from the metal landscape everywhere else on the base. Four columns supported the ceiling, and also helped divide the space into smaller sections. To the left was the games corner, where a pool table sat, surrounded by mounted dartboards and even a few arcade machines. On the far wall was a bar, the wooden countertop caught the light of the blue lightbulbs above, though it wasn’t actually wood, just a shiny imitation. Drink dispensers were situated along its length, several of the stools there occupied by off-duty soldiers.

To the right were a row of booths, the kind one might find at a diner or fuel depot, red cushioned seats flanking a chrome table. A pleasant murmur of mingled conversation greeted the team as they filed inside the recreation center, but it died down when the patrons noticed the towering Balokarid, even the people at the pool table had stopped their game to stare.

They must have all seen or at least heard of the aliens by now, but the novelty hadn’t quite died off for most of the humans outside of Ryan’s team. He had no real idea basis to judge Tilu’s body language, but the feathers on her arms were bristling, perhaps the attention was making her nervous?

“You boys finishing up?” Ryan asked, leading the team over to the pool table, Tilu standing head and shoulders above the comparatively tiny humans. A man holding a cue looked to his companions, who shrugged back.

“Nah,” the man said. “We just broke.”

“Team one, right?” Ryan asked, remembering the few times he’d seen their faces round the base. “How about a little wager, us verse you? Loser buys the other team a round.”

The man looked Tilu up and down, shrugging his shoulders. “Alright we’ll bite. Alien can go first if she wants.”

“She would,” Tilu began, scratching at the varnished wooden edge of the table, seeming to enjoy its texture. “if she knew what this game was.”

“It’s called pool,” Ryan explained. “The idea is you use these long sticks to hit the balls into the pockets, you can’t use your hands or anything else. There are two types of balls, and whoever pockets first must get the rest of those into the pockets before your opponent does with the other.”

“Ah, you use staffs,” Tilu remarked, grabbing the pool cue Brindley offered her. “So I hit them like this?” she added, holding the staff like it was a tennis racket.

“This ain’t Jojutsu,” Brindley chuckled. “You got to hit it with the very end, like this.”

They helped Tilu get a feel for the cue, the other team setting up the game as she practiced. When everything was ready, they offered her to go first. “Are you sure you want me to play?” she asked them. “I do not want to fail the wager for you.”

“It’s all for good fun,” Dominic assured. “You got this.”

“Go for it,” Ryan added.

Her confidence boosted, the alien walked over to the head of the table, practically bending horizontal as she leaned on the table, her nails resting against the baize. She held the cue like they’d shown her, pulling back her arm to ready the strike. She messed it up, skimming the top of the white ball and sending it a grand total of two inches, a couple of the spectators chuckling at the show.

“Give you the benefit of the doubt,” the leader of the other team said. “Won’t count that one.”

Tilu set the cue ball up once more, angling her beak so that it was flush with the length off the stick, shutting one of her golden eyes. This time, she struck the cue with a satisfying clack, the triangle of numbered balls splitting apart and racing across the table. One of the balls sunk into the corner pocket, and Brindley wooped, his voice startling the giant alien.

“Hell yeah, there you go!

Tilu grinned, taking up position again once they’d explained she could take as many more goes until she failed to sink another, Dominic pointing out that they were the solid-coloured balls.

She just missed pocketing another on her next stroke, the man from the other team taking his turn. There was a bit of back and forth as the number of balls dwindled, but Tilu picked up the flow of the game rather quickly, and when it came back round to her turn she went on a streak, sinking three balls in a row.

“There is something satisfying about watching them roll into the pockets!” she said, her comment making a few onlookers laugh.

“How about a drink, Tilu?” Brindley asked. “We got rum, beer, spirits. You look a cocktail kind of gal to me, might be able to whip something up.”

“I have absolutely no idea what any of those things are,” she replied, sinking another ball and pumping her fist in a very human-like way. “How much?”

“Wouldn’t worry about the cost if you keep playing like you are,” Brindley chuckled. “I’ll get you something.”

Brindley came back with two small glasses, Tilu bringing hers to the end of her beak. Ryan was once again unsure of whether her beak was made up of flesh and bone or not, but the way she pursed the end of her beak like lips certainly made him curious…

He wasn’t sure if she could even drink human spirits, her bladder could explode for all he knew about their anatomy, but Tilu didn’t seem that bothered, she even looked like she was enjoying the taste. Perhaps the aliens had already taken note of what was safe to consume or not, they certainly wouldn’t have allowed her to just wander into the rec center if the beverages weren’t safe.

The other team got increasingly frustrated as the game went on, Tilu showing them up every time it was her turn. It soon came down to just the eight ball left for their side, and Ryan let Tilu do the honours, the group clapping as she secured the game.

The leader of the other team grumbled under his breath, leaning on the edge of the table as he looked up at Tilu. Just as Ryan thought there might be a problem, the man gave her a nod. “Maybe we shouldn’t have given you that first shot you missed,” he said. “How about we go double or nothing? Another round, only this time the losers pay for a whole week of drinks?”

“That’s technically not double,” Tilu said, hiccupping into her palm as she considered. Not one drink in and she was getting tipsy, was that a result of Balokarid anatomy, or just Tilu’s personal tolderance? “That’s like… double-quadruble or nothing!”

“Quadruple,” Ryan corrected. “How about it, Tilu? We raising the stakes or what?”

“But, you are the Kith,” she replied, gesturing to him with her glass, a little bit of the liquid spilling. “Our leader. Does the choice not fall to you?”

“Nah, you call it.”

“Hm… Hmm… Yeah, yeah I’ll ‘bite’,” she chuckled, the adage amusing her.

“Two on two this time,” the other man said. “You and the bird, and me and Mattias here.”

Ryan grabbed his own drink, and they set the next game, this time their opponents breaking. The minutes began to blend together as the group enjoyed themselves, the winding down all the more satisfying after a day of cleaning. The cherry on top was Tilu, something about an alien’s cheer infectious. Maybe it was the novelty of having an alien playing pool that had something to do with it.

As Tilu went on another streak, Ryan turned to see the door to the centre open, but the person walking inside wasn’t a human. Samiha turned her nose up, or beakrather, as the smell of booze and exertion assailed her, her gaze eventually falling on the team by the table.

“Told you she’d come round,” Tilu whispered, nudging Ryan with an elbow. “Over here!” she called out, waving an arm to get Samiha’s attention, even though Tilu was impossible to not notice in a crowd of humans.

Samiha wasn’t given as much attention as Tilu had when she’d first walked in, the soldiers growing accustomed to Tilu’s presence after a while. Samiha practically dragged her feet across the floor, folding her feathery arms over her chest as she looked her counterpart over. “Why are you holding a stick?”

“It’s a pool cue,” Ryan explained. “You use it to hit this white ball here, which hits the rest of the balls. The idea is to pocket as many as you can.”

“Don’t remember asking you,” Samiha muttered. Tilu rolled her eyes.

“Lighten up, Samiha, it’s a pretty fun game. Want to try? Team one over here could use a break from the beating I’m giving them.”

“If she’s as good as you, I doubt it’d help,” the soldier, Mattias, replied, shaking his head in mock-annoyance.

“I’ll pass,” Samiha said. “Where are these drinks you spoke of?”

“Over here,” Brindley called from the bar, grabbing a pint glass. “What’s your taste?”

“Strong, bitter,” she replied, her talons furrowing into the carpet as she walked over.

“Like you,” Ryan muttered, covering his mouth so only Tilu could hear him. The alien giggled over her shoulder, trying to stifle her laugh and failing.

“Say something?” Samiha demanded from across the room. “I didn’t catch that.”

“Nothing,” Ryan added quickly, and the denial only made Tilu chuckle harder. Samiha glanced between the two, her eyes like two drops of molten amber in the relative gloom. Ryan only broke eye-contact after Mattias called his name.

“You guys still playing or what? It’s your turn.”

Ryan stepped up, lining a shot up into the corner pocket. “Tell me something about yourself, Tilu,” he began, nodding in satisfaction as he scored. “How’d you get picked as the first Balokarid to join the army?”

“One of the first, you mean,” she replied. “Well, me and Samiha, we were in the middle of training to be Rakshal when our colony on Dur’shala was attacked. We did a lot of sitting around and waiting during the battle of the nebula, so we were eager to join the fight in any way, and this program was the first offer.”

“What’s Rakshal mean?”