toward the lieutenant. “...I should go check on Haysole and tell the platoon about the Berganitan.”
“How do you think they’ll react?”
“To the navy buggering off and leaving them on their own?” She grinned at the two officers. “Same old, same old.”
* * *
“It sure is boring being a guard.” Binti tossed her tunic across the end of her bunk and collapsed down onto the bag of heated sand the Silsviss in this part of the world used as a mattress. “And what the hell are we guarding against anyway? I thought the Silsviss were supposed to be our allies?”
Various forms of grunted assent answered her as Squad One filed into their temporary barracks and found their bunks.
“It’s for fukking show,” Juan grunted, carefully racking his weapon before dropping onto his own sandbag. “Lets them lizards see we’re ready to fight if we have to be.”
Ressk hissed through his teeth as he stretched out his toes. “Staff better not hear you calling them lizards.”
“But they are fukking lizards.”
“Who’s fukking lizards?” Haysole asked, coming in from the shower. He shook his head to settle his hair back into place and glanced around at the ladies on the bunks. “Come on, who?”
“Besides you?” Binti snickered.
“It was an adjective, not a verb,” Corporal Hollice interrupted. “Not that you morons would know what that means.” A raised hand cut off the protests of his fireteam and those other squad members close enough to hear. “Don’t bother proving it.”
“This is a new low. We’re arguing about grammar.” Punching his sand into shape, Ressk settled back. “Me, I pray to all the gods of my tarlige that this will be over soon.”
“Might not.”
All heads turned toward Haysole.
“Staff came in as I finished the crappers, just before Squad Two headed out to replace you. The Berganitan has left orbit.”
“What?”
“Sensors read Others at the edge of the sector and they took off.”
“Leaving us here, ass-deep in ceremonial fukking duties?” Juan struggled up into a sitting position and glared at the di’Taykan. “You’re fukking kidding, right?”
“Wish I was. Staff told me to let you guys know when you came in.”
“You know what this means? This means we could be finished with this gig before they get back and we could be stuck here. This could just go on and on and on and on.”
“What if they never come back?” someone muttered.
“Okay, that’s it.” Binti stood up and grabbed her tunic. “I can’t stand it anymore. I’m out of here.”
“Mess is right next door. Big change.”
“I’m not going to the mess. I’m taking my souvenir Silsvah money in my souvenir Silsvah belt pouch—which appears to have been made from a souvenir Silsviss—and I’m going out for a drink and a little action.”
Ressk’s eyes snapped open. “You’re what?”
“Look, we know they drink, we’ve had the beer, and that means they have to have places they drink in.”
“Maybe they drink alone.”
“Did you pay no attention in school?” she demanded, smacking him on the side of the leg. “So far, only social species have achieved sentience...”
“Oh, yeah. Big achievement.”
Binti ignored him. “The Silsviss are sentient, which makes them social, which means somewhere in this godforsaken town there’s a bar.”
“At the risk of sounding like the voice of reason,” Hollice interrupted, “our orders are to stay put.”
“No one’s saying you have to come.”
He snorted. “You think I’d let you run around without adult supervision?”
Ressk stared up at the corporal, then sighed and began putting his boots back on. “Come on, Juan. Looks like we’re moving out.”
“Praise the fukking lord.”
“Anyone else want to come?”
The other Marines in the room declined. One or two expressed opinions about the wisdom of the trip, but no one raised any major objections. They all knew that someone had to be the first over the
“How do you think they’ll react?”
“To the navy buggering off and leaving them on their own?” She grinned at the two officers. “Same old, same old.”
* * *
“It sure is boring being a guard.” Binti tossed her tunic across the end of her bunk and collapsed down onto the bag of heated sand the Silsviss in this part of the world used as a mattress. “And what the hell are we guarding against anyway? I thought the Silsviss were supposed to be our allies?”
Various forms of grunted assent answered her as Squad One filed into their temporary barracks and found their bunks.
“It’s for fukking show,” Juan grunted, carefully racking his weapon before dropping onto his own sandbag. “Lets them lizards see we’re ready to fight if we have to be.”
Ressk hissed through his teeth as he stretched out his toes. “Staff better not hear you calling them lizards.”
“But they are fukking lizards.”
“Who’s fukking lizards?” Haysole asked, coming in from the shower. He shook his head to settle his hair back into place and glanced around at the ladies on the bunks. “Come on, who?”
“Besides you?” Binti snickered.
“It was an adjective, not a verb,” Corporal Hollice interrupted. “Not that you morons would know what that means.” A raised hand cut off the protests of his fireteam and those other squad members close enough to hear. “Don’t bother proving it.”
“This is a new low. We’re arguing about grammar.” Punching his sand into shape, Ressk settled back. “Me, I pray to all the gods of my tarlige that this will be over soon.”
“Might not.”
All heads turned toward Haysole.
“Staff came in as I finished the crappers, just before Squad Two headed out to replace you. The Berganitan has left orbit.”
“What?”
“Sensors read Others at the edge of the sector and they took off.”
“Leaving us here, ass-deep in ceremonial fukking duties?” Juan struggled up into a sitting position and glared at the di’Taykan. “You’re fukking kidding, right?”
“Wish I was. Staff told me to let you guys know when you came in.”
“You know what this means? This means we could be finished with this gig before they get back and we could be stuck here. This could just go on and on and on and on.”
“What if they never come back?” someone muttered.
“Okay, that’s it.” Binti stood up and grabbed her tunic. “I can’t stand it anymore. I’m out of here.”
“Mess is right next door. Big change.”
“I’m not going to the mess. I’m taking my souvenir Silsvah money in my souvenir Silsvah belt pouch—which appears to have been made from a souvenir Silsviss—and I’m going out for a drink and a little action.”
Ressk’s eyes snapped open. “You’re what?”
“Look, we know they drink, we’ve had the beer, and that means they have to have places they drink in.”
“Maybe they drink alone.”
“Did you pay no attention in school?” she demanded, smacking him on the side of the leg. “So far, only social species have achieved sentience...”
“Oh, yeah. Big achievement.”
Binti ignored him. “The Silsviss are sentient, which makes them social, which means somewhere in this godforsaken town there’s a bar.”
“At the risk of sounding like the voice of reason,” Hollice interrupted, “our orders are to stay put.”
“No one’s saying you have to come.”
He snorted. “You think I’d let you run around without adult supervision?”
Ressk stared up at the corporal, then sighed and began putting his boots back on. “Come on, Juan. Looks like we’re moving out.”
“Praise the fukking lord.”
“Anyone else want to come?”
The other Marines in the room declined. One or two expressed opinions about the wisdom of the trip, but no one raised any major objections. They all knew that someone had to be the first over the
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