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The Vandal had been excited about lunch from the moment the smell of prickly pear filled the air. Even if it was only cactus fruit and a few crunchy bugs, she appreciated every flavor, finding something interesting in each bite. The Agent was busy searching for food, expertly plucking fruits from cacti and digging up bugs from the dry earth. Meanwhile, the Vandal took a sip of her old beer, savoring the warmth it brought to her feathers.
Alcohol was a cherished indulgence for her. She didn’t quite know why, but it always seemed to ease her up, make everything a bit more fun. "Who doesn’t like a drink now and then?" she thought to herself, taking another sip and smiling. Tipsy or not, a little drink couldn’t hurt.
Soon, the Agent returned, balancing a flat stone slab piled with prickly pears, edible plants, and a few insects she’d gathered. The Vandal’s eyes lit up.
"Wow! Looks delicious, doesn't it?" she exclaimed, reaching for a prickly pear and peeling it. She sunk her beak into the soft flesh, a blissful expression crossing her face.
"Oi, save some for the rest of us!" the Assassin called out playfully, grabbing a handful of greens and a couple of bugs for himself. The rest of the team joined in, each taking their small portion, while the Agent, as usual, waited until last, quietly picking out a few flowers and grubs.
They settled in a circle, the Vandal noisily sipping her beer while the others munched quietly. But her loud slurping didn’t go unnoticed. The Doctor frowned, shaking her head as she watched the Vandal pour another mouthful back.
“You shouldn’t drink so much, Vandal… It’s not good for your health, ja?” The Doctor’s voice was soft but laced with concern. “I know it relaxes you, but…”
The Vandal waved a dismissive hand, chuckling. "Ah, don’t worry about me, Doc! I drink all the time, and look how great I turned out!" She grinned, clearly proud of herself, but the Doctor sighed, quietly ruffling the sky-blue feathers around her face in mild frustration.
After a moment of awkward silence, the Artilleryman cleared his throat, trying to shift the conversation. He touched his forehead gingerly, still feeling the sting from the Assassin’s earlier shot.
"Oi, I didn’t give ya a concussion, did I?" the Assassin asked with a grin, giving him a friendly pat on the shoulder. “Sorry for the headshot, mate… You caught me off guard, though. Good job!” he added, a hint of admiration in his tone.
The Artilleryman shook his head, shrugging. "Nah… I can handle worse hits," he murmured, nibbling on his food—a strange combination of greens and bugs that he’d layered together in his usual, experimental way.
The Agent, as always, ate quietly, covering her beak as she chewed, while the Vandal made a show of messily devouring her meal. But eventually, the food was gone, and they gathered themselves for the next part of their mission.
“Oui, so… let’s split up to search for Australium, tools, and anything else we can find, yes?” the Agent suggested, tilting her head.
“Ja, that will be good,” the Doctor agreed, rising and fluffing her feathers, brushing off dust. “But remember, meet back at the tree by sunset. If you’re not there by dark, we’ll come find you.” She gave them all a firm, reassuring nod.
One by one, the team took flight, the Doctor heading west, the Agent north, the Artilleryman east, and the Assassin south. The Vandal, notorious for struggling with directions, hesitated briefly before veering off to the northeast. She had the old crate of beer strapped to her back, balancing it carefully as she soared over the desert terrain.
The search was monotonous; for hours, the Vandal found little more than rusted metal scraps, and the weight of her findings started to slow her down. Soon, she was forced to land and walk, feeling the strain in her wings from carrying her load. The sun was beginning its descent, casting long shadows across the sand, and the quiet buzz of the junkyard felt heavier somehow.
Sipping her beer as she trudged along, the Vandal laughed to herself. "I’d be a lot better at this if I didn’t feel so tipsy," she muttered. The combination of heat, exhaustion, and a steady stream of alcohol was beginning to blur her focus.
That’s when something caught her eye—a glimmering, greenish shape on the ground a few feet away. It seemed almost alive, shimmering and faintly glowing in the late afternoon light. At first, she thought she was hallucinating, but the closer she got, the clearer it became. The object looked like a strange cactus but was softer, almost liquid in appearance, and it pulsed gently as though breathing.
Curiosity overwhelmed her, and she reached down to touch it. Her fingers tingled as they brushed against the cool surface, and she carefully lifted it, finding it surprisingly light, like a strange green gemstone with a prickly texture. She raised it to the sky, watching how the sunlight danced through its translucent surface.
But then, the ground trembled beneath her feet. The sand began to swirl and shift, pulling her down like a whirlpool, and the object in her hand glowed brighter, almost blindingly so.
“Oh, phooey…” the Vandal mumbled, feeling the sand give way beneath her. She struggled to keep her balance as the ground continued to shift, her heart pounding as she realized she might have triggered something unexpected—and dangerous.
ns 18.68.41.148da2
