Anfilid and Enflia ogled Rhidi’s freeze brand as they all took the military transport into town, and she had to tell the tale of her experience in the armory six times as Kafya cycled back and forth within the UAA off-base transport bus.

  “Are you sure it didn’t hurt?” Enflia asked, the orange furred Kafya poking and prodding at the buzzed, numbered fur with narrowed eyebrows. “Seems like if it was this cold, you would have… the flesh would have frozen, or something.”

  Rhidi shrugged. “It gave me a little shot of painkillers so I didn’t really feel much.”

  “Did they do anything weird to you?” Private Pobilo asked, another blue female Kafya that was, in Rhidi’s opinion, more normal looking despite her odd, mohawk hair style. “Like, shave you or keep a lock of your hair? I heard the Humans who hum a lot like to keep the hair of people.”

  “You mean the Humans who go to the Templar church?” Asked Private Dimili, another brown Kafya that had closely cut hair and ribs of cream down her ears and tail. “They only keep the hair of dead people… for some reason. They can be rather creepy, did you know all of their little prayer beads are made from bone?”

  Private Oin, a black furred Kafya that also had her hair in the style of a mohawk, was prodding at Rhidi’s arm as well as she spoke up. “Bones of the innocent dead, believe it or not. The Ashen Templars hate when innocents are killed unjustly during war, like civilians and the like. The bones are even made up of aliens if the Templar sees their death a failure on their part. Majority of them use the bones of dead Humans killed during their war against the Pactless, while the Odinic Humans make their little badges from the metals of destroyed combat vehicles.”

  “You seem to know a lot about them, Oin.” Rhidi said in surprise, even as Oin lifted her arm to get a better look at it.

  Oin sniffed dismissively. “Curiosity got the better of me, ended up talking with a few of their priests one evening after training. They pray with the beads, remembering the seven landing sites of their first time fighting on another planet.”

  “Planet Veideduh!” Enflia piped up, her tail wagging as she realized she had something ‘smart’ to offer. “The Humans lost tens of thousands taking that planet, they hammered the Ur relentlessly until they had killed and rooted out every last one.”

  Oin nodded. “This is known. Then there are twenty large orbs resembling and colored after the planets they had failed to save. Peroi, Veideduh, Dinjarum, Iburumi, Laet, Roarillia, Parth, Zakar’Amiri, Hiphustus, Corellili, Nimordorit, Rumik I and Rumik II, Uhines, Ladun Eori, Jakati’Wo’Remit, Bintu, Sanctum Yori, Sloyak, and Tiat.”

  “That’s not their fault though.” Private Imridit spoke up, a pink furred Kafya that kept her extremely long hair in two tight buns at the back of her head. “They weren’t even in the war by the time those planets were lost!”

  Rhidi looked over towards the woman; Pink Kafya were the result of a white and red Kafya coupling, scandalous in nature and in the early years of their discovery, were either hidden away, dyed, or even killed at birth. The color was also seen as “outlandish” or “lewd”, which led to many pink Kafya being ostracised. Plenty of pink Kafya had come into the training, spread along in other training Companies as they sought their own path in life.

  Oin shrugged. “According to both of the priests, they knew they could have stopped their annihilation if they had been discovered faster. The Humans had withdrawn inwardly after their war with the Pactless and feared the stars. They believe they could have been found a lot faster if they had left their signals going.”

  “You can’t blame them for pulling back.” Rhidi said, itching lightly at her shaved spot. “They were nearly wiped from the board as a result of their war with the Pactless, and then they were strained in the war against the Ur.”

  Oin nodded again, leaning back against her seat with a sigh. “This is known as well. Forty more beads make up the rest of the prayer ‘rosary’, forty nations from their planet that were eradicated.”

  “What are the other ones like?” Imridit asked, leaning forward and ducking down to be seen from the other side of Inthur. “The ones with the cloaks?”

  Oin tucked her black pawed hands in her pockets. “They are not like the Ashen ones. The Templars are a mournful, merciful group that seek to protect and safeguard. The Runed ones are rageful, turning their sorrow and regret into a battle fever I have never seen before. I was able to watch from afar both of their holy days, and was able to view the Buddhists as well. The Ashen Humans use their holy day to remember, to imbue themselves with their holy rites and tie themselves with their purpose; To protect the innocent, to remember the lost, to safeguard all life. The Runed Humans are creatures of war, of vengeance, of fury, of ferocity, bleeding the stars in a rage against the death of the innocent. They are the judgement and executioner of the wicked, the damned, and evil. While the Ashen are the shield and turned sword, the Runed are the hammer, axe, and spear.”

  All eyes were wide as the Kafya stared at Oin, the black furred female pulling out a storytelling tone renowned by her caste.

  “Then there are the Buddhists, the balance of the two. They are compassionate, but use that compassion in their violence. They rouse the Ashen to action, but also temper the boiling rage that are the Runed, bringing them both to equilibrium and being the arm that keeps the two within reason.” Oin said, flicking an ear as she thought back to the three temples she had visited. “I guess, in a way, you look to the Ashen for protection, the Runed for revenge, and the Broken Crescent for support, each revolving around Humanity like different colored suns.”

  Rhidi blinked, then tilted her head towards Oin. “You were a poet.”

  “I dabbled.” Oin said with a sly smile.

  “Wow…” Imridit breathed out, rubbing at her pink chin. “So… the ones in the cloaks are scary? Should we be afraid of them?”

  Oin actually laughed, subduing it into a giggle before turning to the pink Kafya. “No, we have nothing to fear from them. Humans are odd little creatures but have wrapped their arms around us, safe against the breast of the beast. I would be more afraid of an enemy that catches their ire.”

  “After seeing what they did to the Ur, and reading their history, they are going to get itchy here soon.” Rhidi said, raising her brows as she leaned towards Imridit. “Humans love themselves some war and battle, and can get… angsty if left at pause for too long. Plus, from what I hear, something out on the outer arms of the Mentha Kloren may be catching their eyes.”

  Inthur chuckled, brushing her blue hair from her face. “Did you know they call our galaxy the ‘Milky Way’?”

  “Milky Way?” Enflia asked with a snort. “Did they confuse the galaxy for you?”

  Inthur rolled her eyes as everyone tittered and giggled, and she turned towards Enflia with a shimmy of her shoulders. “Don’t be mad because you lack the wares.”

  “I’m not jealous!” Enflia shouted a little too quickly, causing more laughter to erupt around her as she stood in indignation. “I’m not! Inthur can barely fit in her fucking armor!”

  “Settle down.” Rhidi said with a pointed look at Enflia, and the orange furred Kafya immediately sat down.

  Rhidi blinked at Enflia, and Enflia blinked back. Her orange ears perked up in confused embarrassment as she stammered out a single word, then looked down at the floor.

  Uh oh... Rhidi thought to herself as she slowly turned her head towards the majority of the female Kafya; They were all staring at her just as wide eyed, even though Inthur was glaring at her as all the social pieces fell into place

  Rhidi cleared her throat, then smoothed down the thighs of her uniform pants. “Aaanyway…”

  “Right.” Oin said, clapping her pawed hands together. “We ought to hammer this out now, seeing as Enflia immediately obeying Rhidi is going to bring up the question anyway.”

  Enflia sputtered for a second, then got back to her feet again. “What was I supposed to do?! Rhidi wore the armor! She got the big gun! She’s more or less Kholihl through Languimodirr!”

  “As true as that may be,” Inthur began, her eyes still narrowed at Rhidi and blue ears pinned back, “It has been an extremely long time since a female Kafya has become Kholihl via Languimodirr.”

  Uppil stretched out, yawning and flicking her red furred ears. “Ahhh… yes, the rite of might. Usually that is done by the males with all their preening and challenging.”

  “It goes further than that.” Oin said again, pulling out her data-slate and tapping on it with both hands. “We’re the most elite of the infantry, and the other female Kafya in other MOSs have been languishing under what to do. In the UAA military you must obey the rank higher than you, and it clashes hard with our culture that seeks a lead female or male. For instance if a lead male is a lower rank than a more senior trooper, it’s going to cause a headache. For weeks now everyone has been waiting for us to come to a head, and that moment is now.”

  Rhidi pouted, annoyed. “Can’t that wait until after dinner?”

  “I would prefer if we did it now, Kholihl.” Oin said blandly, not even looking up from her data-slate. “The other female Kafya need to know what to do, and right now, you make the rules as the most elite female at the current time. Whether you like it or not, the Languimodirr has put you in charge.”

  Rhidi whined in her throat, thudding her head back against the seat cushion. “Oh come on! That’s not even fair!”

  “Always remarkable how immune black furs are to the Languicodi.” Anfilid mused, pushing her brown hair away from her eyes. “Why the Elders really don’t like them.”

  Oin made a non-committal, annoyed noise in her throat while continuing to input on her data-slate’s keyboard.

  “Well.” Rhidi said. “Why don’t we just… you know, make up our own rule?”

  Even Oin’s fingers came to a stop as the entire transport turned to look at Rhidi; Except the driver, he really couldn’t have cared less and was too busy listening to his audiobook.

  Rhidi looked around at them all, her ivory eyes wide as she held out her hands. “What? No one can stop us, the Elder Councils can’t weigh in. We can just… make up our own rule.”

  All the female Kafya drop infantry looked at each other; They were all on the bus together, and they could, technically, form a ruling that all “lesser” female Kafya would have to follow until a stronger one came along.

  “Alright…” Inthur said, brushing a strand of her long blue hair over her left ear. “Well… what is your ruling, then?”

  Rhidi glanced over to Oin who tilted her head prettily at Rhidi, her fingers poised over the e-letter she was writing up.

  “Er…” Rhidi began, placing the tips of her fingers together. “How about when it comes to like… disciplinary stuff, the Kholihl of the group takes care of it, but like… military senior ranks still gain priority during combat actions and things involving the military structure?”

  Oin, her padded fingers rapidly plodding on her data-slate, nodded. “Alright, go on with an example.”

  “Well like, if it comes to a military order, we all obey as a soldier would, right?” Rhidi asked, looking around to the bus.

  “Right.” All the female Kafya said together, nodding their heads.

  Rhidi pinned her ears back, not really liking how they were all looking at her. “But if it comes to being rude, or disrespecting a higher rank or person outside of the military order, the Kholihl steps in and maintains order as we always have.” She looked to all the Kafya around her, holding out her pawed hands. “That sounds good, right? Easy?”

  “Easy enough, gonna put some wordsmithing on it though.” Oin said as she poked the tip of her tongue past her lips, her fingers flying along her data-slate.

  “Poets…” Inthur snorted, but pinned her ears down from the sideways look Rhidi gave her.

  Private Saffi, a green female Kafya that kept her hair in a mess of short braids, ambled her way back towards the main cluster of the female Kafya. “I mean, it does make sense!”

  “What does, Saf?” Oin called out, not looking away from her data-slate as she tapped along.

  Saffi pointed at Rhidi. “What the yellowhair said. The Humans would get really agitated if we had lower ranking Kafya calling the shots on senior ranking Kafya all the time, and would likely cause the Humans to step in. This way we follow their military structure and have a uh… a uhhh…” She turned, looking over her shoulder. “Quinnit, what were those mean Humans on the wooden boats called again?!”

  Quinnit, a fellow yellow Kafya and one of the few female ones, looked up from her comic book and blinked up at the ceiling of the bus for a moment before replying. “Bosun, you’re thinking of bosun.”

  “Yeah!” Saffi snapped with a clap of her pawed palms. “Bosuns! All the Kholihl can act like bosuns! Rhidi and the rest of them can keep rowdy Kafya in line and help the NCOs!”

  Rhidi smiled at Saffi. “Well, I think that if the greens can understand it that way, the others can as well. What do you say, Oin?”

  Oin glanced up from her data-slate to see Saffi wagging her tail happily, clearly enjoying the wash of praise that Rhidi sent her way, and couldn’t help but smirk to herself. “Yeah, I think I can work that in.”

  For the next twenty minutes, Rhidi and the other Kafya waited for Oin to finish penning her Kafya wide e-letter, and then going over it line by line. Whether they knew it or not, or if they truly understood what they were doing, Rhidi and all the female Kafya on the bus were the start of a brand new culture, a counter culture to Kafya rule and further cementing themselves as rebels.

  After henpecking Oin to the point her fur was starting to fray out in aggravation, they finalized their e-letter and sent it out to every Kafya data-slate on the registry. While they cheered and shared a few high fives here and there, Rhidi and the rest of the drop infantry Kafya had set in motion a whole new string of dominoes that were set to crash against, and bloody, the noses of the Elder Kafya Councils.

  They did not have this on their minds, however, as the military transport came to a hissing stop in front of a lively Mexican restaurant that was more than ready to greet them; Drill Sergeant McPhiston had briefed the restaurant as soon as Rhidi had let slip that they were the targeted location, and the owners of El Sabueso Salado had met the challenge with the kind of gusto that only Latin Americans could.

  Not only was an entire section of the restaurant set up for all the Kafya and any other drop infantry that may have shown up, but they had served a number of dishes family style, something that the Kafya had never experienced before.

  Multiple tables had been pushed together, adorned with vibrantly colored table cloths, and laden with enough tortilla chip bowls to start a diesel engine. Multiple varieties of salsa lay in dishes, adorned with their own ladles, pitchers of beer and margaritas lay in cooled abundance, all interjected with dish upon dish of “proper” tacos, enchiladas, tureens of pozole, tamales, mole, chile colorado, and other favorite dishes of the southern lands.

  The smell of it all was so explosive to Rhidi’s nose that she nearly backed away from the door, her brain assaulted by a whirlwind of spices that none of the Kafya had ever been exposed to. Many of the female Kafya had to pull their uniform shirts up over their noses to dampen the smell, though their eyes were wide and ears perked as they looked around.

  The Army DFAC had been rather close to their normal “eateries” on Kafya worlds, bland places where you received your chit of bars, gels, or gelatine cubes when you were hungry. All Kafya ate on the go, as eating was merely a consumption of needed calories. There was nothing fancy about it, and just eating in the DFAC had been enough to get used to.

  Here in this place, it was nearly an embodiment of celebration; Music played out of speakers hidden in the ceiling, piping in Spanish music played on guitars, violins, trumpets, and other instruments that Rhidi had never heard before. Color was everywhere, from the deck to the ceiling, in a vibrant cascade of the sky and sun. The restaurant looked more like a festival area than somewhere where you went to eat during the week, and for a moment, Rhidi and the other Kafya stood around in stunned silence, simply taking in their surroundings. Multiple waiters ran to and fro, still bringing out plates to the table as well as more food.

  “Come, come.” An older female Human said kindly as she stepped out from the kitchen, her hair stained white by age and face heavily wrinkled by time. Along her waist she wore a heavily stained apron, in which a deeply weathered spoon was tucked in. “Come have a seat, Firulais, the food is getting cold.”

  Rhidi looked over her shoulder at the other Kafya as the older Human took her by the arm, directing the Kafya towards the table. “Uh… okay, sure, but, isn’t this someone else’s party?”

  The older Mexican woman just chuckled to herself, the laugh as crackly as her skin. “No no Firulais, we made this all up for you and your friends! We’ve never had space dogs in our restaurant before, and are very pleased you chose us!”

  She then turned, snapping the fingers of her free hand at the other Kafya who had yet to move. “Tch, ay! Quit hanging about and blocking the door!”

  “Sorry!” Saffi chirped out, ducking around Inthur and quickly stepping up behind Rhidi.

  A smattering of similar apologies poured out from the gathered female Kafya as they pressed past the doorway, their paw boots tapping along the ground as they followed after the older woman and Rhidi.

  The older Mexican woman placed Rhidi at the head of the table, at the prior request of Drill Sergeant McPhiston, and all the other Kafya trickled into the open seats.

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  “I made these for you.” The old woman said, spooning fresh pork enchiladas onto a plate for Rhidi, along with a tamale and empanada. She then leaned in towards Rhidi, chuckling happily to herself as she set down the plate. “I’ve never gotten to cook for an alien before! How fun.”

  Rhidi, not sure what to say, only nodded her head in thanks as the old woman kept piling things onto her plate. By the time she had poured Rhidi a large measure of blood orange margarita and tottered off to the kitchen, Rhidi was looking down at around two thousand calories with wide eyes.

  Inthur leaned in from her right with a creak of her wooden chair, both of them looking down at Rhidi’s plate. “That is… a lot.”

  “It is a lot.” Rhidi answered back.

  “Is it a challenge?” Oin pondered aloud, already halfway through a cheese empanada and a few sips of strawberry margarita.

  Rhidi tilted her head at her plate. “A challenge? She seemed so nice though, why would she challenge me with food?”

  “I ‘unno.” Oin replied with a shrug, tossing a salsa covered chip into her mouth. “She also placed you at the head of the table.”

  Oin chewed a few times, her jaw coming to a slow stop, and her eyes began to water as she began scrambling for her empty water glass.

  “Oin, you alright?” Rhidi asked, picking up her fork and cutting out a sliver of stewed pork.

  “Wrong bowl!” Oin managed to choke out, pouring a glass of water with shaking hands. “Wrong bowl!”

  “Oooh, she ate the green one.” Saffi piped up, pointing to a small, innocent looking dish in front of Oin. “That’s the spicy one!”

  Oin cleared half her cup, swishing the water around in her mouth before exhaling painfully.

  The Kafya proceeded carefully through the dishes, as there were some surprises hidden in many of them that they were certainly not used to. Spices were new enough, but the addition of peppers was a whole other ball game to Kafyan tongues.

  While queso cheese was a surging favorite, there was a true star to the meal; Tequila.

  All alcohol rations in UAA field rations were fruity brandies, seen as more comforting for soldiers, and left out the far more hard spirits. None of the Kafya, including Rhidi, had ever had tequila before, let alone a combination of triple sec and Cointreau. Kafyan society, unless you were rich or high up on the social ladder, was a dry society for the most part.

  The Kafyan troopers had found Human alcohol to be quite the treat, and enjoyed the smooth taste and flavors that normally came in the field rations. They had, on the other hand, never been given the “hard” stuff normally enjoyed by Humans, and their minds were simply not prepared for the state it was going to put them in.

  Worse yet, margaritas were sweet, deeply pleasuring the sweet tooth all Kafyans had. Rhidi and the other Kafya had arrived quite thirsty, and with pitchers of the stuff all over the table, they only drank water then they had an oopsy and found one of the spicier dishes.

  This meant that by the time Rhidi had poured her fifth glass of watermelon margarita, it had only been roughly twenty minutes into the meal, and the alcohol hit her system like a tornado crashing into a trailer park.

  Rhidi had finished her plate, much to her deeply buzzed dismay, and was reaching out for a chicken empanada when her hand went from one, to two.

  “Oooh… no.” Rhidi murmured, wiggling her fingers above the plate of empanadas. “Oh no...”

  Saffi, drunkenly braiding Oin’s mohawk as the black furred Kafya spooned queso into her mouth with tipsy fingers, looked around to Rhidi. “What’sonno? Oh no what?”

  Rhidi held her hands up to her face; Not only was she now extremely hungry despite all the food, but she was having trouble counting her fingers. “Something… is wrong, what’s happening?”

  “What’s happening is that I am sweating!” Inthur puffed out, already peeling off her uniform top with a shimmy of the shoulders. “Why am I so hot?!”

  True enough, Inthur was so sweaty that her uniform shirt looked like it had been rained on, and she quickly started fanning at herself as she continued drinking her own libation.

  “Did’ju guys know that back in the day, soldiers couldn’t drink while in uniform?” Oin hiccuped, licking cheese from her spoon. “When the, when the field…” Oin blinked down at her spoon, wondering where her queso went before lurching back into speech. “When the field rations started including alcohol again, they did away with that rule.”

  Pobilo also hiccuped, then ducked her head to look under the table before jerking it backup again. “I’ve lost my paw boots.”

  “How the-” Uppil hiccuped wetly. “How the hell did you lose your boots?!”

  Anfilid polished off her sixth margarita with a burp that was quickly followed by a hiccup, and she looked down into the cup with perked ears. “What are the guys doing?”

  “Bowling.” Dimili answered, gleefully taking a fresh plate of churros from a waiter and pushing her three empty margaritas aside. “They’re drinking beer with the Humans.”

  “Weren’t tha’ P’ah and Lilgu’ra supposhed’ to join ush’?” Enflia piped up as she drunkenly pushed a whole sopapilla into her mouth.

  This sparked a memory in Rhidi, and she pulled her own data-slate free from her belt with numb fingers.

  She tapped along the messages with a fair amount of struggle, then let out a snort of a laugh. “Ha! They found something called a ‘sports bar’ and got too drunk to meet us. Something called ‘j?gerbombs’ made Shasta nose dive into the floor on his way to the latrine.”

  “Shasta juss’posted that he loves french fries an’ blue cheese…” Oin said, holding up her glass to a waiter to take some of his offered grilled pineapple margarita pitcher.

  Rhidi hiccuped, something that was happening more and more now, as well as the strong urge to laugh as she raised her glass. “Well, if it’s just us, I guess it really is a Kafya ladies night!”

  The Kafya around her all cheered while fighting through their own hiccups, and they all took a sip of their drinks in a toast.

  —

  With a blood alcohol content that could puzzle even the most logical of Human doctors, the Kafya stumbled out of El Sabueso Salado two hours later and made their way onto the bus when it arrived.

  Inthur was half naked, still sweating through her clothing as if she were baking in the Summer sun, and ended up shirtless and bootless on the military transport. Oin, for some reason, had stolen a fork and spoon from the restaurant, Uppil had taken an entire stack of tortillas to go, and Saffi had ended up with several pockets full of tortilla chips.

  As a matter of fact, all of the Kafya had pockets filled to the brim with tortilla chips, and were happily munching on them while hiccuping and struggling to keep their vision straight.

  Pobilo, who was not quite as endowed as Inthur but still impressive by blue Kafya standards, was sitting upside down on a bus seat while licking all the salt from her finger fur.

  Rhidi was the most normal, just hiccuping while scrolling through all the pictures she had taken with her data-slate; The waitstaff brought out multiple games for them to play, one of them being “charades” where they could only talk through gestures.

  The kitchen crew, hearing all of their bickering in Kafya-hi, had come out to see just who they were working for in the first place. They then broke the Kafya into groups in order to teach them how to play dominoes, jenga, and a rather odd game called “faro”.

  Rhidi had liked faro quite a bit, as gambling had been illegal in Kafya society for nearly three hundred years. She looked over to Inthur, who had been quite the faro sparring partner, then glanced down at her exposed bra. Inthur, as well obviously known, had enough cup sizes on Rhidi that she may have well been a kitchen cabinet, and watching her large, blue furred breasts wobble with the sway of the bus made Rhidi’s face burn with envy.

  Yellows were lithe, and despite her being able to best the browns and reds in raw strength via training… Rhidi could not grow breasts.

  The drunken thought made Rhidi so quickly angered that she pelted Inthur with her sweaty uniform shirt.

  “Hey!” Inthur spat out, turning to look at Rhidi and balking at the look on her face.

  “Put those things away!” Rhidi barked back, pointing angrily at Inthur’s chest. “Put those stupid… fucking… milk tanks back where they belong!”

  A light ripple of tittering laughter echoed around the bus as Inthur quickly put her sweaty shirt back on, though the blue Kafya did smirk to herself; Rhidi may be first in many things, but Inthur knew one thing that she came in last place on.

  The laughing and teasing continued on for quite a few miles as Rhidi settled back down, though Inthur had beat a hasty retreat further down the transport in order to rip her shirt back off and open a window vent for herself.

  Arriving at the barracks was another messy affair as they piled out of the transport in a stumbling mess; The Human tequila was quite slow in leaving their system, and they were still madly drunk even though they should have been easing into the territory of “buzzed”. The requirement of walking in a straight line became a task as difficult as wearing their armor, and the looming stairwell appeared more like the final boss of a video game than a mere escalation of first, to second, floor.

  “Shas’ko hah?” Dimili groaned out, too drunk to even bother remembering the English words.

  Rhidi drew in a deep, chilly breath through her nose, even though she was seeing two stairwells instead of one. “Tor’la ren. Ha keekin’lo dubta yu’wololo i len ha’len po ap shushlo arli kek.”

  “Ye’ra rowa’lo ba’bahlo.” Uppil muttered, spitting out a large wad of pre-vomit spit from her mouth. “Er’li rowa’lo la hrecky.”

  “Onward ho, ladies!” Saffi called out gamely, even though she kept hiccuping. “If we can fall from the void, we can tackle these stairs!”

  Saffi took two rapid steps forward, stopped, then darted off towards the decorative bushes to loudly vomit into them.

  Rhidi rolled her eyes, looking over to Oin who just shook her head.

  “Be sure to kick some dirt over that, Saffi.” Oin shouted out as the bus hissed and pulled away from the barracks. “If they find it, they’ll make us clean it up.”

  “Okay!” Saffi gurgled out in a strained whine, though her shoulders bucked again and she vomited wetly onto the ground again in a splash.

  Rhidi sniffed, then giggled to herself. “Strawberries…”

  “She didn’t have to drink the entire pitcher…” Inthur said with a twist of her mouth, though the sound of Saffi littering the ground with her stomach contents caused her own to give a pang of worry.

  After Saffi had caused ten more female Kafya to sympathy vomit into the bushes, in which an impromptu landscaping detail was roused to hide said evidence, they all took to the stairs.

  Rhidi could usually take these stairs three at a time if she wished, and not even be panting at the top of the stairs.

  At the current time, she was wheezing after just a third of the way up, already having to support Oin on one shoulder and a whining Saffi on the other.

  Rhidi’s head snapped around as best it could when Inthur gave out a soft gurgle, clutching her mouth with her hand as her eyes went wide.

  “Don’t you dare!” Rhidi hissed as Enflia went stumbling past with a few of the other Kafya. “Don’t you dare puke on the fucking stairs!”

  Inthur’s back began to curl as her eyes filled with tears, her other hand joining the first.

  “Don’t you puke, Inthur!” Rhidi shouted now in a panic, knowing how much the blue Kafya had drank and eaten. “It’s going to go all the way down the stairs! Swallow it!”

  Inthur shook her head rapidly as her cheeks filled with vomit.

  “Swallow it you blue dipshit! Swa-fuuuuuuuuuck!” Rhidi howled as Inthur lost her literal internal battle.

  Bright pink vomit sprayed out from between Inthurs fingers as she choked, but nothing could stop the deluge of fruity margarita from hitting the stairs and dripping down along the rail-wall.

  When Inthur had finished emptying her stomach and splattering it along the tiled stairs, she looked up at Rhidi’s furious face; Saffi, having heard the wet splat, had given another weak bout of stomach expulsion. This stream of bile and partially digested chips was now running down Rhidi’s shoulder, and the yellow Kafya was so angry that her ivory eyes were nearly glowing.

  “Sorry.” Inthur said thickly as bile dripped down her blue chin.

  Rhidi turned without another word, trudging up the stairs while still supporting the other two. She arrived at the top step out of breath and wheezing, both of her fists clutching the back of both Oin and Saffi’s uniform bottoms so deeply, that she had given the two drunken Kafya the harshest wedgies of their lives.

  Depositing them both into the showers with the other struggling Kafya, Rhidi made her way over to grab a mop and bucket from the laundry room. Inthur was crawling towards the showers by the time she left the laundry room with a suds filled bucket, and the blue Kafya rolled over onto her back with a wobble of her chest.

  Inthur looked up at Rhid, holding up a hand. “H-help me, Rhidi.”

  “Sure thing.” Rhidi replied icily, then splacked her wet mop right onto the face of Inthur.

  Inthur let out a spluttering plea for mercy that was deftly ignored by Rhidi, giving the blue Kafya a quick scrubbing before stabbing the mop back into the bucket.

  “That’s not f-funny!” Inthur howled out, gasping for breath as Rhidi wheeled the bucket back out into the hallway.

  Rhidi ignored her, focussing on getting the bucket down the stairs without spilling it and cleaning up vomit trailing footprints along the way. With the main puddle of what Rhidi believed was cherry margaritas mopped up, and double checking the buried remains outside, Rhidi had been up and down the stairs multiple times by this point.

  With a final heave, Rhidi hauled the mop bucket back up onto the top stair and slid down the wall by her shoulder, dragging in what air she could as her yellow hair stuck wildly to her face.

  Rhidi heard the showers going, the groans of the lamenting, and oddly enough the crunch of someone eating more stolen tortilla chips. The wet burp of Oin as she pulled more chips from her pockets was just a little too much for Rhidi, and she was just able to pull her hair away from her mouth as she bent over the mop bucket.

  —

  The morning after the great “Margarita Massacre” was a dark day indeed, as Rhidi found herself blinking, bleary eyed along with all the other Kafya, Pwah, and Lilgara that had imbibed just as deeply as the females. Rhidi and her group had been the first back, and through the night the rest of the troopers had stumbled, filed, or were dragged back in by the helpful hands of the Humans.

  Not a single Human appeared to be affected by their libation littered celebrations, though Humans consumed Earthen alcohol as early as the age of sixteen.

  Alias, his face the color of fresh milk and both of his eyes blackened, regaled Rhidi in how their night had gone; The male Kafya were all dragged in, bodily, by the Humans, as they had favored the flavors of beer far too heavily and the bubbles had gone straight to their heads. Like the females, Kafyan biology grabbed onto Human alcohol and savored it, meaning that none of the Kafya sobered up at all until three in the morning.

  Lilgaran biology saw their legs simply ceasing to work when drunk on Human alcohol, and the formidable j?gerbomb had rendered the Lilgarans into intermittent states of their knees cutting out from under them. This resulted in heavily liquored Lilgarans slamming into the bar, ground, bar stools, or toppling into Human waitresses trying to serve food. Shasta himself had run into a table of Human veterans and face planted into their plate of wings; Nonplussed, one veteran mid poised to dunk a wing in sauce just chuckled and wiped ranch off of Shasta’s face with it.

  The Pwah were no strangers to alcohol, as many kinds of brews were beloved by the elvish race, but these were soft wine-like drinks more known for their flavor than ABV. Having been lured into a false sense of security with the alcohol rations, the Pwah had began sampling other kinds of Human alcohols and found their achilles heel; Plymouth Gin.

  “It was like drinking pure happiness.” Alias said, running his hand down his face as they all wobbled back and forth in formation. “I’ve never… we’ve never tasted anything like it before. Humans make it from evergreen tree berries, and it’s just… I can’t even describe it…”

  Toibil, another male Pwah beside Alias, pushed his currently frayed gray hair over his ears. “It hit us so fast… we didn’t even know what was going on until it was too late. The ration alcohol always took a long time to hit us, but the gin hit us right in the side of the head within minutes. Alias had a few shots, got up to piss, and ate floor within seconds.”

  “The entire bar saw.” Alias groaned, puffing out an angry sigh. “Someone got up to help me up, and then didn’t even make it five feet before doing the same.”

  Toibil grimaced. “We tried to stop drinking it but… we couldn’t. It was so good…”

  “We had to start taking away the bottles and the bar had to measure them out for refunds.” Morris said as he leaned in from behind Rhidi, causing her heart rate to spike. “We had just managed to get them to the barracks when the male Kafya rolled up. Looked like a multi-colored fur rug fell out of the bus.”

  “Hi Morris.” Rhidi said sweetly and out of the blue, giving him a bright smile as she fought to keep her tail under control.

  Morris raised a brow, but smiled. “Hi, Rhidi.”

  “Hi.” She replied back, grinning happily as her tail rebelled and forced a single wag.

  Morris let out a confused laugh. “Hi?”

  “Hi.”

  “Hi…”

  Alias, so hungover that his feet hurt, reached up and grabbed Rhidi by the nose in order to turn it towards the oncoming NCOs. “Could you not?”

  “I ssstill smell like buffalo sssauce…” Shasta murmured glumly, blinking slowly as his brain struggled to fully function.

  The formation tried to come to full attention, Humans withstanding, but their outward appearance was hard to miss.

  “Jaysus b’y, the hell happened to you lot?” Drill Sergeant Curahee called out, his lips cracked in a smile. “Looks like a shambling mass of the walking dead!”

  Drill Sergeant McPhsiton chuckled. “Judging by the bill my credit card got hit with, the female Kafya were mugged by pitchers of margaritas.”

  “The males found out what Guinness is.” Drill Sergeant Almoore said with a smirk. “I was there with my daughter bowling when they started drinking it like they were fish finding the ocean for the first time.

  “I told you that was her!” A male Kafya hissed from the middle ranks, causing many of the Humans to titter.

  “My old First Sergeant was at the bar with the Pwah and Lilgara, there was a special on drinks and it hit them a little harder than normal.” Drill Sergeant Prince said as she came around the corner, cup of coffee in hand and wearing an oddly off-colored uniform. “Shasta! How were the wings my little ranch head?”

  Shasta looked away in shame, hissing out more in anger to himself than anyone else.

  “Well, it was their day to celebrate, we can’t be too hard on them.” Drill Sergeant McPhiston intoned, and the odd note of seriousness to his voice made Rhidi a little worried.

  “Unless…”

  All of their heads turned as Senior Drill Sergeant Fairymoss came around the back end of the Company area, her massive form strapped in nothing but socks, running shoes…

  … and her PT uniform.

  “Formation run!” Senior Drill Sergeant Fairymoss shouted, slamming her two massive hands together in a thunderous clap. “Out on the street!”

  “On the street you boozehounds!” Drill Sergeant Curahee crowed as he ripped off his garrison uniform to expose the PT uniform underneath it.

  Drill Sergeant Prince tossed her now evidently empty cup to the side and had actually worn a tear away costume uniform, pulling away the pants to expose her high cut PT bottoms. “Time to sweat out your sins aliens! Let’s go!”

  In a panicked blurr, Rhidi and the rest of the training Company were thrown out onto the road and forced into a jog, despite the fact they were in their garrison uniforms and boots. None of them, not even the Humans, had been ready for a run of all things, and many a trooper were putting up spiritual white flags of surrender after just a mere mile.

  Rhidi had the unfortunate luck of finding herself at the rear of the formation, breathing in the sweat of everyone else in front of her; She could smell beer, martinis, margaritas, and gin that was sweating out of the pores of her fellow drop troopers, and the stench was nauseating.

  Since they would be soon losing these history-making recruits, the Drill Sergeants made sure to send them off on a memorable note, forcing them to do a complete run around the entire Battalion area.

  It was blessingly short, but that did not mean that Rhidi had not stepped in multiple trails of vomit and shoved away a few Pwah who were threatening to coat her in bile.

  After the Drill Sergeants had their fun and reminded the recruits about what “excessive” meant in the Uniform Code of Military Justice, they were released to change into a fresh uniform. Since it was a Saturday, they were given an extended, full day pass to go onto base and buy civilian clothes.

  The thought had not really occurred to Rhidi, and as she was changing, she took an actual look into her locker; All she had was her small collection of Kafya body suits, and her uniforms.

  Rhidi half turned to look at Shorsey’s locker, and she had a large collection of t-shirts, jeans, shorts, and other forms of civilian wear. They were colorful, personable… and frankly, the exact opposite of most Kafyan clothing except for the upper echelons of society.

  “Shorsey.” Rhidi began, slowly closing her locker door and putting the lock into place.

  Shorsey, halfway through putting on a pink pair of underwear, stopped mid foot-lift and looked at Rhidi with angry eyebrows. “What?!”

  “... Can you take me shopping?” Rhidi asked her, turning around to fully face the fiery haired woman. “Like, show me what I should wear?”

  Shorsey, her eyebrows once drawn together, immediately relaxed with a bright smile. “You want me to take you shopping?”

  “I guess?” Rhidi said, though multiple female Kafya heads began to rapidly pop up around the rack.

  “Shorsey will show us what to wear?” Saffi asked, her newly braided hair still as chaotic as normal. “At the Human store?”

  Uppil slammed around the corner of Shorsey’s locker, her excitement visible. “I want to learn Victoria’s secret!”

  “I too want to learn of Victoria’s secret!” Inthur said as she raised her hand, jogging down the main aisle of the racks.

  Shorsey rapidly put on her underwear and a pair of ripped jeans, then clapped her hands together rapidly while stamping her feet. “We’re going shopping!”