The Story - Angaran Eggs

From the Encyclopedia Nexus:

“...Angara hands have the bone structure for five fingers, but the final three fingers on each hand are densely webbed together into a single digit. Angara are sexually dimorphic: male angara are taller than females, and females have wider hips and rounder faces. Skin colors feature various shades of blue or mauve, sometimes shading into green or tan. Their blood is deep blue in color...”

Vakara Ryder read over the entry a third time. As simple as the encyclopedia article was, it still had to be wrong - or else Torvar was pulling a surprisingly thorough practical joke. The article matched with what she knew, didn’t it? Jaal was tall and broad-shouldered - 2 meters tall and strong enough to toss kett around on the battlefield - and he was male. Right? She had been corresponding casually with several angara on other planets for a while now, including Torvar, the tall, heavily-built research assistant at Pelaav Research Station on Havarl. She had thought she knew him, would have called him a friend, but now… Well, now she was confused.
The door slid open with a quiet swish, revealing a half-dressed Jaal in the Tempest's crew quarters. The angara’s wide back was toward Vakara, the long curve of his jinesh running down his spine. Jaal glanced over a shoulder at the sound of the door and smiled warmly.
“Hello, darling one.” Jaal pulled Vakara into a hug with one arm, a newly repaired shirt of pale green in the other hand. She returned the hug, wrapping an arm around his narrow waist and unintentionally hitting him with the datapad in her hand.
“Jafaarl, I am so confused.” Vakara had asked Jaal about terms of endearment in a romantic relationship after they’d spoken at his family’s home on Havarl, but now she wondered if simpler questions would have been better… such as whether he was an angaran man or woman. She would swear that she’d heard Lathoul call Jaal ‘brother,’ but now she was unsure. Maybe it didn’t mean what she thought, or maybe she was just going crazy.
“I was talking with Torvar, and they were really excited to have a baby on the way, and were talking about their plans for when it’s born. So, I asked about whether his partner was excited too and if this was her first child… but then I think it must have turned into a joke, Jaal.” The look Jaal was giving her seemed a mix of joy and amusement, and Vakara’s face heated. The words kept tumbling out though; she could handle Jaal laughing at her if it came down to it. “Torvar said it was his… or I guess her… first child, which is confusing enough, but then they sent me a photo of an egg! A speckled blue-green egg!”
Jaal went still when Vakara mentioned the egg, then grinned widely and swept her into a more enthusiastic hug, swinging her around despite the tight quarters. “That is wonderful, Ryder! That you have made such a friend of Torvar that they would tell you such important news is fantastic! We angara may speak much of family, but to share details and photos is very personal, darling one.” Jaal pressed a brief kiss to Ryder’s forehead and set her down. “You are a marvel… Hmmmm. You do not seem excited. Do not worry! The egg will be fine.”
“I’m… not worried, Jaal. I think.” Vakara sighed. “The eggs are real? Not a joke? Angara really have eggs?” She asked, looking up and meeting Jaal’s eyes, his dark pupils narrow in the bright artificial lights.
“Oh, you did not know?” Jaal ducked his head in a laugh, then stifled it into an amused smile. “Mmm. Yes, eggs. One or two is most common, and a mother is not always happy with three at once.” Vakara’s eyes widened, eyebrows climbing toward her hairline.
“Alright, eggs. Fantastic. Weird, but great.” Now for the next issue. “So, Torvar sent me a picture of his partner’s egg, then? That’s exciting!”
“Mmmm, possible.” Jaal squeezed her lightly, then stepped away and pulled the shirt over his head. It was a simple work shirt she’d seen before - long, close-fitting sleeves, with wide fabric straps that would pull the shirt snug around his waist. “More likely, it is a picture of their own egg. That is more something the mother would do.”
“...Torvar’s egg,” Vakara repeated hesitantly. “You’ve met Torvar, Jaal… and he looks a lot like you. So how could he have an egg? Wouldn’t he be the father? Isn’t he a man… like you?” The final question trailed off quietly.
Jaal’s expression was unusually serious, but he was still smiling gently as he hooked the straps of the shirt across his stomach. “This I knew would need to be discussed eventually, but I did not think it necessary to create a problem when no offense was being taken.” Jaal shrugged one wide shoulder. “Your translation program mixes our personal words together in awkward ways that are… frequently incorrect. I don’t understand why, but you often call people by their sex, even when you have just met! How would you know? It is no wonder that you are wrong at least two times in four.”
“Why do you say we wouldn’t know? Don’t angaran men and women look different?” Vakara showed Jaal the datapad with the angaran encyclopedia entry. “Broad shoulders, tall - like you, like Torvar.”
It took a moment for the printed english text to run through Jaal’s own translator, and he scowled in irritation. “No, Vakara.” Jaal huffed, rubbing his broad hand across Vakara’s back comfortingly. The problem was with the text - not her. “I have known Torvar for many years, and she has long looked forward to having children of her own." He emphasized the words describing Torvar, and Vakara realized that the translator was taking several words Jaal said and turning them into one pronoun. "I am male right now, yes. But I do not believe we have a word for ‘man’ or ‘woman’ in the same way that you seem to. You say ‘turian woman’ or ‘angaran man’ like it is a thing. Why do you do that?”
Vakara hesitated. The obvious answer was… obviously wrong, somehow. “Because it’s literally part of who a person is, physically. If a person of most species has the genetic code for being female, they have different organs, hormones, shape… I feel like I’m stating the obvious, Jaal.”
“But you use the same words for people who look completely different, even when they are the same species! I have heard you say ‘she’ for a human who is tall and broad, with hard lines to their face and short hair. Then you also say ‘she’ for yourself, who is short, with a soft, sweet face, and a curvy shape!” Jaal slid an affectionate hand down her ribs and over the curve of her waist, leaving it there as he continued. “Liam is barely taller than you are, and has similar facial features and strength, but without the curves - yet you say ‘he’ and call him a ‘man.’”
Jaal chuckled, his tone losing some of its irritated edge. “Do these words mean nothing? Yes, you and Liam are apparently different sexes, but only his telling me this, or seeing both of you unclothed would have shown this to be true. You both even share the same brown skin color and darker hair!"
“I, uhh… well, I guess calling someone a man or woman is based on how you think they look, at least with humans. Which is… gender,” Vakara continued slowly. “And completely based on cultural assumptions. Damn. We still mix stereotypes about social gender expectations and physical sex together pretty hard, don’t we?”
“What does that mean? What is 'genn-dah'? Why would you expect a person to look a certain way because they are male, or because they are female? Or wait,” Jaal interrupted himself. “Does everyone know if a human changes their sex? How would they signal the change to the others when there are so few differences between how human ‘men’ and ‘women’ look?”
“Changing their sex? That’s not common, Jaal.” Vakara sat down on the edge of Jaal’s bunk. “Why would you even ask about that? Anyone transexual on the Nexus would have transitioned well before coming here, those surgeries aren’t simple. People often change what they wear, and bits of how they look, but they don’t usually change sex.”
Jaal’s brow ridges rose in obvious surprise, blue eyes widening. “Ohhh.” They drew the word out into a dramatic revelation of extreme importance and moved smoothly to sit beside Vakara. “Angara do.” Jaal held Vakara’s gaze for a moment before continuing. “Angara are aasabitara. It only takes a few months’ time for someone to change sex.”
Vakara pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to wrap her head around what Jaal had just said. It took a moment for the translator to parse aasabitara… which meant hermaphroditic. “So even though angara look very diverse, it has nothing to do with them being male or female?”
Jaal nodded, completely serious. “Humans are also very diverse, with a lot of overlap between those who you call ‘men’ and ‘women.’ You even use another word sometimes - ‘they.’ It seems to just mean a 'person'… which makes a lot more sense to me, Vakara.”
“Urrrghh…” Vakara flopped back on Jaal’s bunk with a groan. She looked up at Jaal, who seemed mildly amused but still serious. This quiet reservedness from him… them… was rare, and said a lot about how important the information was. “I’m sorry. We really should know better, it’s not like this is our first time meeting a completely new culture or species. Surely one of the asari or salarians has noticed the odd pronoun translations! I’m not sure why someone made those sorts of big assumptions about your people, Jaal. If you help me, I’ll find a way to set it right.”
Their smile broadened into a fond grin, and Jaal leaned down, pressing his lips against Vakara’s in a warm kiss. “Remember, this is the Angara’s first time really meeting another species we could truly learn to know well. If there were ever others, such as the Yevara, the memory of them has been lost to the Scourge.” Jaal stood swiftly, reaching out an inviting hand to Vakara. “Come. I am not the best person to explain this, but it will be good for both of us.”