Vanguard Word Update

2500 words. Btw do you fine people like the new look for patreon? Personally I think the new logo looks like a little smidge on my desktop, and some of the new font styles look strange, but maybe that's just me. 

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Chapter 4: Reset

Ryan smoothed out the crinkles in his Alliance fatigues as he passed through the administration part of the base, stopping to salute a Lieutenant walking the other way. The night cycle was just beginning to start on the Hub, the street lamps simulating a bunch of tiny setting suns as their bulbs dimmed. He preferred the darker setting, it complemented with the constant presence of space that painted the skies beyond of the ring.

After weaving between a few more blocks dedicated to classrooms and maintenance hangars, the wall that sectioned off the quadrant came into view, the slope of the station beyond giving him an unimpeded view of the neighboring wedge. Bright, colourful lights twinkled through the carpet of structures, the groups of humans milling through the streets numbering in the hundreds.

As Ryan approached the main gates, he saw Samiha had arrived early, her rusty feathers giving her away, not that she’d be hard to see in a crowd. Her coat bristled as she heard him approach, her headdress twitching as she turned to face him.

“Hi, Corporal,” Samiha said, greeting him with a nod. “How’s the jaw?”

“Good, nobody’s any the wiser.” He’d seen Samiha only a few hours ago when they were working through a training course, so he didn’t have to bother asking her how her day was.

“So where are we going?” she asked, the two greeting the gate guard as they passed through, retracing their steps from the previous night into the commercial wedge, using the sounds of the bustling crowds to guide them.

“I’m not sure, pretty much as new to this place as you are,” he admitted. “How about we just wander around, see what takes our fancy? You hungry?”

“Famished,” Samiha replied. “Has to be decent food somewhere on this station, what we et in the mess tastes like Cashi dung.”

“You can eat all human food, right?” he asked, shouldering his way into the crowded street. Samiha didn’t have to worry about being pushed around, the humans parted before her like water, their faces full of awe as they looked up at her. “No allergies, anything?”

“None that I’m aware of, though if our roles were reversed, you’d have some problems.” She gave his stomach a pointed look. “From what I’ve heard your species must heat your foods, yes?”

“Yours don’t?”

“We do, but you humans prefer to char your foods until it is almost ashen, it’s confusing.”

“Most raw foods have bacteria humans can’t ingest,” he explained. “Guessing you guys haven’t got that problem. Still, maybe we could find a sushi place if you like your meat rare,” he suggested, Samiha giving him a confused look. “Right, you probably don’t know what that is. Sushi’s mostly fish and seaweed, very raw.”

“No thanks,” she replied, her feathers bristling. “Fish does not agree with me. Cooked meat is fine, as long as it isn’t burned.”

Ryan led the way deeper into the district, the colourful neon signs depicting disproportionately large foods luring him towards the more restaurant and café-oriented part of the wedge. After a minute of walking, the scent of food hit him like a wall, the two finding themselves drawn towards the next bend as they followed the smell. A large, arched opening marked the beginning of a compact road cutting between two buildings, the glowing letters built into the curved metal signing the entrance as Eat Street.

“Should to be something in there,” Ryan commented.

“No, really?” Samiha asked with a sarcastic roll of her eyes. “how can you tell?”

The street was scattered with tables and chairs, the throngs of people squeezing through the street with barely any room to spare, and with Samiha’s bulk there was even less, her tail brushing up against the dozens of patrons as she squeezed into the aisles after him. There had to be twenty different food places in the first hundred meters alone, the stores crammed in like fish in a can. No two facades were the same, the glass displays shelved with all manner of exotic foods that made Ryan’s mouth water. There were a few places whose signs weren’t even in English, most of the storefronts open-plan so that the busy sounds of their kitchens mingled with the dozens of conversations out here on the street. It was pretty overwhelming, but was enough to convince Ryan he was on a planet rather than a station.

He turned to make sure Samiha was following, the alien appearing like she was trying to look in every direction at once as she drank in the sights. Her feathers seemed to reflect the blues, greens and reds of the neon signs plastered above the establishments, making her coat sparkle. He had to remind himself it would be quite difficult to lose her if she was the only alien around, standing head and shoulders above everyone else.

“What about this one?” Ryan asked after a bit of walking, the pair stopping in front of a wooden frame leading into a dining area. It looked more specious than any of the other joints, which should be more comfortable for the Balokarid. “Can’t go wrong with a classic steakhouse, what do you think?”

“I have no idea what that is or means!” Samiha replied, raising her voice so he could hear her.

Shrugging, he waved for her to follow, the Balokarid ducking inside after him. Everything was wooden in here, the chairs, the tables, walls, all of it painted to mock the oaks and pines of Earth. There were framed photos mounted on the walls above the booths, mostly depicting Hub sports teams or sceneries from the colonies, the cushioned seats painted a grim yellow from the bulbs built into the ceiling fans. It wasn’t a fancy place by a long shot, but they were here to eat and make up, not to delve into a three-course meal exported from the Core Worlds.

There were plenty of booths to pick from, so Ryan chose one furthest from the door, so he could actually hear himself think while he ate. The few patrons dining in turned to stare as Samiha tried not to hit her head on every rafter and light bulb, there expressions ranging from caution to surprise.

He slid into one side of a booth, Samiha struggling into the other, her tail getting in the way again as she shoved it to the side with a hand. After a moment of struggling, she elected to just sit on the very edge of the seat, half her body hanging out the side with the other half compressed between the backrest and the table.

A waiter walked over with menus in his hand, placing them down as he welcomed them. He gave Samiha a curious glance, but kept any other reservations hidden behind a professional smile. “Can I get you two anything to drink?”

“What have you got?” Samiha asked, blinking down at the menu as the waiter gestured to the drinks column. “What’s a… mart… ee… knee?”

“Let’s just start with some water,” Ryan suggested, the waiter nodding as he turned away. A kind of uneasy silence settled between the two as they fiddled with their laminated menus. They had been at each other’s throats not twenty-four hours ago, and now they were dining together, with none of the rest of the squad to make small talk with.

“Well this feels a little weird, doesn’t it?” Ryan asked, cutting the tension away with a small laugh. Samiha huffed in amusement, clicking her beak as she leaned on the table.

“It does, doesn’t it? Probably because the last time we were alone, things got… out of control.”

“Still feel it, right here,” he said, miming the punch with his hand. “Look,” he added, Samiha sensing his change in tone as she settled back. “I know we got off on the wrong foot, but how about this. Let’s pretend this is the first time we’ve met, okay? No ranges, no sims, no punching, that last one especially. We’re just two soldiers hanging out.”

“Fine,” she replied. “Really hit the reset button, right?”

“Exactly. Alright I’ll start.” He cleared his throat. “Hello, I’m Ryan.”

“This is stupid already,” Samiha mumbled under her breath, but there was a little smirk on her beak that betrayed her amusement. She straightened up, placing a hand on her chest. “Samiha.”

“What do you do, Samiha?”

“I’m a soldier.”

“That’s it?”

“Yeah.”

“… Not gonna ask me what I do?”

“You’re a squad leader.”

“Yeah but you’re not supposed to know that, remember?”

She rolled her eyes, her focus switching to her nails as she rubbed them together. She seemed content to just let the silence reign, Ryan shaking his head at her.

“Tilu said you were pretty high strung,” he said, leaning back in his seat. She cocked her head, not understanding the expression. “It means you’re bad at relaxing, uptight.”

“So we’re insulting each other now,” she muttered. “Suddenly I’m not so sure about all this.”

“Didn’t mean it like that,” he added. “I know where you’re coming from, treating work and life like it’s the same thing, used to think like that myself back in the day, but I learned to balance being a soldier and enjoying life.”

“Not all Balokarids have that kind of luxury,” she countered. “We have spent the last few cycles running from you humans, watching from our carriers as our pilots fought to protect us from your ships.”

“Guess it’s a Rakshal thing,” he surmised. “Can’t do much as a Commando when there’s a whole lot of vacuum keeping you from the fight, must’ve been frustrating.”

“How do you know of the Rakshal?” Samiha demanded. “Ah, of course. Tilu told you. Suppose she mentioned she and I were candidates before being pulled into this program?”

“Something like that. Also said you weren’t exactly thrilled with the decision.”

“Discretion was never one of her strong suits,” Samiha sighed, her headdress quivering. Perhaps that was the Balokarid equivalent of a headshake? “Why were you two talking about me, anyway? I thought I specifically mentioned that she not discuss my life to anyone, you especially.”

“Well, I was curious about you.”

“Curious?” she asked, her feathery head ruffling. “Why? I am a Balokarid assigned to team four, what else is there to say?”

“What else?” he chuckled. “Everything else! You’re the first alien ever who’s training to use Alliance tactics and weapons, hardly anyone who wasn’t in the nebula knows anything about you lot. Don’t you feel the same about us?”

“I learned all that I needed before I was deployed to the station,” she replied, cryptically.

“Indulge methen, will you? Can’t just sit here in silence.”

“Fine,” she sighed, as if this would be the most painful expereicne in her life. “What do you want to know?”

“Where’d you grow up?”

“Dur’shala,” Samiha answered after a pause. “It was the first world outside of Balokar to be settled by our species, and I was part of the first and last generation to be born on the planet. It’s full of canyons and dust, not so different in colour from my plumage.”

“First andlast?” he asked. “The UEC drove you off, right? That’s what I heard.”

“You heard correctly,” she replied, snapping her beak in agitation. “Just as our colony had begun to establish itself, we were forced to evacuate by aliens that looked just like you.”

“Must feel strange now that you’re suddenly working with us to fight them.”

“That is putting it lightly,” Samiha replied.

“What did you do on the colony?” he pressed.

“I trained to be Rakshal, I thought you already knew this?”

“What about in your free time?”

“Free time,” she said, mimicking his voice to an impressive degree. “Clearly you have not trained in any special units in your military, unless they are as lax about their rules as they are with the program. Outside of rest, there is no free time for me.”

“You can’t just work yourself to the bone all the time,” he replied. The waiter came back with a bottle of water and a pair of glasses, Ryan telling him they needed a few more minutes to decide. “Humans can’t keep going forever, we need to stop and take care of ourselves. Why do you think there’s so many shops and restaurants on this station? Don’t Balokarids have hobbies or anything?”

“Of course we do, but I cannot distract myself from my progress as a Rakshal initiate. I’ve done enough stalling since my home was burned by you aliens, I was forced to sit out our most desperate battle when we fled, I have little interest in… hobbies.”

“I’m… sorry about your world,” he tried, but his apology was met with a dismissive click of Samiha’s beak, the alien looking away. “Decided on what you want yet?” he asked, changing the subject as he gestured at her menu.

She tapped her nails against the laminated paper, finding the texture odd. “Do you recommend anything? I don’t know what any of this is.”

“If you like meat, the different cuts of steak are there,” he said, pointing at the corner of the menu. “I’d say get the… wait. Can you read English?”

“A little, though most of these words are new to me,” she explained, squinting her eyes at where he’d pointed.

“Well you got the list of fillets here,” he said. “The top one is eye fillet, which is very tender, then below that is sirloin, which is a little tougher, and the ones below them are fattier as you go. It all comes from different parts of the cow, an Earth animal, but some are more tender than others, if that’s you’re preference.”

“What about these, uhm…” She read off a section below the grill column. “Toppers? What’s a cal..ma.. ari?”

“Calamari?” he asked, looking at the section she pointed out. “That’s a squid, they cut off parts of it, fry it in oil, and lay it on top of your steak, hence the name.”

“What’s a squid?”

“It’s an aquatic animal, also from Earth. It’s not a fish, it’s a mollusk, looks kind of like a… a long head with tentacles on the end.”

Samiha loosed a horrified squawk at the image, Ryan chuckling as he assured her they tasted great. The waiter returned a minute later, a tablet in hand as he prepared to take their order. He addressed Samiha first, having to look up at her despite the alien sitting down.

“How big are these meats?” Samiha asked him, the waiter holding out his hands to help sell the picture.

“Most of our three-hundred-gram cuts are roughly this big, and they come with your choice of sides. Might I suggest the black angus, or the giant-size special if you’re really hungry?”

“Uhm… yes,” Samiha replied. The two humans exchanged a glance.

“’Yes’?” the waiter asked. “As in…?”