Valor's Choice

A quick check on the platoon showed everyone more or less enjoying the flight. "Whatever it is you're eating, Ressk, swallow it before we land," [said Staff Sergeant Kerr]. "No problem, Staff." "More like whoever he's eating," Binti muttered beside him. "You ought to count your fingers," he suggested. "You're too serley stupid to notice one missing." "Maybe you ought to gren sa talamec to." "That's enough, people." When the Confederation first started integrating the di'Taykan and the Krai into what was predominantly a human military system, xenopsychologists among the elder races expected a number of problems. For the most part, those expectations fell short. After having dealt with the Mictok and the H'san, none of the younger races - all bipedal mammals - had any difficulty with each other's appearance. Cultural differences were absorbed into the prevailing military culture and the remaining problems were dealt with in the age-old military tradition of learning to say "up yours" in the other races' languages. The "us against them" mentality of war made for strange bedfellows.

The desire for stimulants following hard on the heels of sentience,

I hate it. You come out with your fingers and toes all wrinkled, and while you’re in there, it’s like returning to the womb without the room service.

What’s the situation with the grenades?” he asked, turning to Torin. “Insufficient quantity, sir, and they wouldn’t stop those rocks anyway.” “Why not?” “Well, they’re rocks, sir

We can think of few things more tangible than a stool to the head, Staff Sergeant.

I would like to discuss the psychological determinates in your use of copulative profanity.