“You’re not just going to leave them standing by the door, are you?”
Peter’s guess that their mom wasn’t about to let Specialist Amalu and Staff Sergeant Kanete stand by, had been correct. It didn't matter if they were inside or outside of the private dining room while everybody else had dinner and caught up. There would be no pretending they weren’t there. The very idea was antithetical to who she was.
“How long should the dinner take?” Carbon injected herself into the conversation taking place between Alex, Audrey, and Pete... directly in front of increasingly uneasy soldiers. “I understand that it is unusual, but the orders they are working under are fairly rigid.”
“Last couple of dinners out have been, what, around two hours? He hadn’t been gone for a year and didn’t have anyone with him at the time, so I could easily see it being three.” Pete gestured at Alex as he counted the hours on his fingers.
Alex found that to be a pretty accurate guess. “Sounds right.”
Carbon’s head rotated slightly, glancing up at him. Her eyes just a touch wider than normal. “That is a significant length of time for a meal.”
He shrugged. “We’re talkative.”
“It is so.” She dipped her head in assent and turned to the Tsla’o soldiers, who were currently still standing by the door, and switched into Tsla. “This is unconventional, but I believe that Audrey’s request is reasonable for this setting and can be made to fit within regulation. Standard procedure indicates a shift change for you both in the next few hours, pending there is no active threat. This can be put off for some time if there is a secured area as outlined in the dignitary escort field manual where escort is considered to be on tier one vigil. That is low threat potential with a high concealment stance, correct?”
Alex had zoned out somewhere around ‘regulation’ but he nodded in agreement once she stopped talking. “Yeah, exactly.”
Kanete’s eyes darted between them. “Princess T- Sorenson, your reasoning is correct. However, we have been ordered to maintain tier two, despite the Confederation’s assurances.”
Audrey and Peter were just standing by, watching this exchange with no ability to follow what was being said outside of Alex’s brief comment.
“I am pleased that you are up to date with the current security threat matrix. May I ask where those orders have come from?” She kept a quiet, authoritative tone with her. Security detail or not, they were ultimately both subordinates. “I find it strange. Doctrine states tier two should be a detail of no less than two per dignitary. Yet we received one fireteam on our shuttle, not enough to provide proper coverage. Is there a staffing shortage I am unaware of?”
“Orders and deployment schedule came from Admiral Havasio himself, ma’am.” She seemed to straighten up a little bit when invoking the Admiral’s name, as though he might somehow see Kanete talking about him. She lowered her voice and continued, “the lieutenant disagreed with his assessment and split the detail so the Prince would be included.”
“The Admiral is well intentioned, but he is not here.” There was a subtle change in her tone, a shift down that Alex would have missed if he hadn’t spent so much time around her. She didn’t believe the Admiral to be well intentioned at all, particularly since he had taken it upon himself to decide which member of the royal family was worth protecting. Carbon tipped her chin up, like Eleya had done when trying to look very Imperial at Alex. Didn’t work at all while he was standing, but their escorts were roughly Carbon’s height so they caught it just fine. “He has left it to you to insult the kindness of my family, Staff Sergeant.”
There was a moment where, even under all that armor, with just a flash of red fur exposed beneath the dark plate of the visor hiding their eyes, Alex could sense the Staff Sergeant bristle with panic. “I did not intend- There is no provision for such things.”
“There is not. These are strange times. I believe the Humans when they say their planet is secure. So much so I do not believe we actually require an escort, but I allow it because it is a standard practice.” Carbon held up a hand, slowing her speaking cadence down. “Be assured, you will not be abandoning your duties, merely performing them while seated. Any wrath from the Admiral shall be directed at me, as I will clarify this with him personally, as well as the lieutenant. Now, please take a seat.”
“Of course, Princess Sorenson.” She bowed, Amalu following suit a moment later.
Carbon thanked him, a very shallow bow in return, before looking back to Audrey. “They will be seated. I believe with us, so they are close at hand should any trouble arise. If you will excuse me, I must notify their commanding officer about this change of plans.” There was just a hint of a smirk on her as she said that, the expectation for problems occurring clearly very low as she retrieved her phone and stepped away to inform the Lieutenant of what was happening.
The pair of soldiers stacked their helmets on an extra chair in the corner, and ended up being seated between Alex and Carbon. Right there at arms length should the need for protection arise, but also not buffering them from the rest of the family. Alex had Peter to his right, Jason insisting on sitting between grandma and Carbon. Both of them had scanners from their armor systems deployed around the room - Amalu’s by the door to keep an eye on the short hallway, Kanete’s sitting in the middle of the lazy susan to scan food. A quiet compromise that put them both at ease.
Alex borrowed his dad’s phone, linking it to his external translator - making note to insist that anyone being sent to human-rich areas had a way to actually talk to the locals who may not have their own translator - and let the two soldiers try to figure out what to order with the help of the waitress, who seemed to be have a good time with the back and forth of trying to narrow down what aliens might want to try. Mapo tofu, four stars, as Kanete wanted something spicy. Amalu ended up at the seafood combination, barely keeping himself together when he found out they had ‘ocean foods’ on offer, having grown up by the sea.
All the other Humans at the table seemed to miss the weight in his statement, which was fine. Mostly just confusion as he looked like he was about to start crying. To her credit, the waitress didn’t even flinch. Amalu seemed young, he probably didn’t want everybody to start apologizing to him at once anyway, though Alex did reach over and pat his shoulder.
Carbon was already well versed in how humans went about meals, and both Amalu and Kanete picked things up quickly despite being baffled by their immediate and unquestioned inclusion into the family. Unlimited tea and the fact Humans had chopsticks too were the highlight of the quiet discussion between the two, until the first wave in what seemed an unending tide of food arrived.
Everything needed to be scanned, of course. Kanete’s systems made quick work of it, given that she was giving them the go ahead moments after each item was set down. Both of them waited until after Carbon and Alex had started eating to do the same, something Alex filed away in the back of his head to look into. Kanete immediately found out that the allyl isothiocyanate in mustard worked on Tsla’o physiology just fine, and the significant increase in sinus area made it much more effective.
She was happy with this, once she stopped tearing up and holding her face. There was still far less mustard on her next piece of char siu.
Alex, despite his usual instinct to hog the pot stickers, did not. There were new diners at the table, and it wouldn’t do to have them miss out on something he thought so highly of, even if he could have eaten a plate of them by himself. Carbon lifted one off the tray with recognition lighting her face, calling them something the translator butchered as ‘fried outlander rolled pockets.’ He hoped that was a translator problem, at least.
The three Tsla’o at the table were overwhelmed when the actual meal started arriving. Ten big plates of food - nearly every tray was brought in by a different member of the staff, including somebody from the kitchen - crammed onto the lazy susan, one after the next. Rotating slowly, stopping each plate in front of the next person one after the other. The idea of family dining on this scale was apparently an entirely alien concept, but that didn’t stop any of them from engaging with it.
Carbon tended towards anything with beef, the steak back on McFadden station apparently having made an impression. Kanete tried everything, scooping tiny bits from whatever dish stopped in front of her, and eventually she found the little jar of chili sauce and it went on everything. Amalu initially stuck with his seafood, but branched out after a second pass.
There were no missteps from his family’s side of things, which was nice. Conversation had stayed pretty light, but that wasn’t too much of a surprise either. His family had never discussed big things in public, though in the lobby there had been a brief whispered conversation about not telling Jason that uncle Alex was married and that was actually auntie Carbon. Kids had a tendency to talk about anything, and Jason’s behavior so far said that he’d volunteer that information to anyone without a moment’s hesitation.
Dinner ran long, as expected - they had the room all night so there was no rush, everyone catching up on what had been going on with their lives over the last year, with the near total exclusion of Carbon and Alex who just didn’t have much to say about anything starting four months ago. His dad even got Specialist Amalu to start talking, a little. Turns out he was only twenty, and had joined the military shortly after the disaster, rising through the ranks at an accelerated pace despite his personal losses. That was what landed him on the Sword of the Morning Light.
Jason’s wide-eyed appreciation for having met multiple aliens at once had not gone unnoticed either. By the time they were ready to leave, all three of the Tsla’o at the table had been presented with their own drawing. Kanete seemed particularly moved by that gesture, even if it was just crayon on the back of a paper placemat.
Alex picked up the tab, though only because he had stepped out to use the bathroom and flagged down the waitress to pay for everything before his parents got to the check. He hadn’t spent a dime of his salary while out on the Kshlav’o and while he hadn’t checked the balance tonight, it had been more than enough before he had left on the expedition. He’d ordered a bunch of extra food for the rest of the security detail back on the shuttle as well, since the Lieutenant had actually been looking out for him and it was a little unfair to have only fed two of them. Everybody in the other shuttle was on their own, though.
His parents had still argued with him about it, briefly, his father assuring him that wouldn’t fly again.
Time would tell.
The employees had everything packed up and ready to go, including an extra bag full of fortune cookies that the unusual guests had found to be particularly novel. Leaving was not without its own peril, as the owner came out and asked, very politely, if they could take a picture with everyone. There had been a brief discussion, and the Tsla’o equivalent of ‘hearts and minds’ - water and sun - had been tossed out a dozen times in as many sentences.
The extended Sorenson family, adopted soldiers and all, ended up taking a group picture with about half the staff. The little window on the back of their professional grade camera was cramped, but it looked like a good shot. Lots of smiles all around. Good optics. They emailed his parents a copy before they were even out the door.
The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.
They went their separate ways at the funicular, Peter and his family heading up to Deck 8 to catch an aircab back to San Francisco, everyone else returning to his parents’ place. Alex hastily crammed a bunch of clothes and some personal items into a duffel, pocketed his uncharged phone, and let their escort decide on who had to carry all this stuff back to the ship while the other one stayed with them on a little side trip. Kanete pulled rank and set Amalu on that task, a daunting one considering the size of the bag Alex had packed, and the sheer amount of food that he would also be transporting. Audrey asked if it would be rude to send the leftovers along, and the specialist assured her it would be fine even if he were the only one to eat them.
Ambrose volunteered himself to help - more specifically, he had a folding cart in the back room, and it fit everything. The two of them departed, chatting amicably, after a brief goodbye. Alex and Carbon lingered a few more minutes before parting ways with his mother, both promising to visit again soon.
“This was much better than I had hoped.” Carbon hung on to Alex’s arm as they walked away from his parent's house, trailed at a respectable distance by Staff Sergent Kanete. They were detouring from the direct path back to the shuttle, Alex intent on stopping by an old haunt before they returned to the Sword of the Morning Light. This part of the promenade was nearly deserted despite the sun having set not an hour before. There were faster ways around, but none of them had floor-to-ceiling windows with a view of San Francisco lit up across the bay.
“I told you they’d be happy for us.” His mother had been happy for them, at least, while his father and brother seemed to be good with it as long as he was happy. Milly was more quiet than normal, but given the circumstances Alex hadn’t been surprised. The Sorensons could be a lot, and that was without aliens in the room.
“You did. I am glad. I did not know how much I missed having family.” Carbon slipped her hand into his, glancing out across the water with a soft, wistful sigh. “Perhaps I just avoided thinking about it.”
“You were.” Based on some of the things they had talked about on the Kshlav’o, that was the only possible conclusion. He squeezed her hand. Would his reaction be much different in that sort of situation? “It’s the easiest thing to do, really. Just keep going.”
“It is. I do not like admitting that, but it was much easier to bury myself in work than deal with those feelings.” There was a profound sadness in her voice, heavy with regret that she had no good way to expel.
Alex nodded in agreement. “Sometimes, I think you were on the Kshlav’o just because it was a lot of work.”
“That... may have had some impact on my decision.” She smiled and then sighed quietly. “On the Kshanev, my crew would come to me, try to reduce my workload. Try to make me take a break. I knew how much maintenance a set of drives took, I knew it would keep me busy if I was the only one working on them.”
“That sucks.”
She didn’t say anything for a moment and then laughed. “Yes, it did. But I would not undo it.”
“You say that now.” Alex grinned and gave her a sidelong glance.
She closed her eyes and smiled again. “I do say that now. I should hope to say that forever.”
“Well, we’ll see.”
“We will. Is this the place you spoke of? Benny’s?” She pointed down the promenade, past several businesses that were already closed for the day. There was one still open, a few empty tables out front bathed in blue neon.
“That’s the place. Best subs in the arcology. Maybe the whole Bay area. Fresh sliced meat and cheese, fresh baked bread.” He held up a hand. “Well, they’re going to close in a half hour, so it’s not as fresh as it could be. It’s the premise of the thing, you know?”
“I am sure. What were you going to get me?” She squinted up at the neon as they approached, dark fur gleaming more blue than black now.
“An Italian with the works.”
Carbon looked up at him. “It sounds thorough.”
“It’s a good place to start. There’s a lot going on, but it’s really about how all the stuff works together.”
“We are not eating this right now, correct?”
“Absolutely not. It’ll hold overnight just fine, probably be even better, actually. Let the flavors really meld.” He stopped himself before he started waxing philosophic about sandwiches, looking over her shoulder at Kanete. “You want anything while we're here?”
“Uh.” Their escort had not been expecting that. She looked around, nobody nearby save for a few people closing up shops. “Do they have tea as well?”
“Iced tea.”
Kanete picked her words cautiously as she spoke. “If you do not mind it, I would like that.”
Clearly had a lot to learn about how unrelentingly casual Alex was about everything. “Yeah, sure.”
They turned into the small shop, currently deserted except for the lone employee behind the counter. Unsurprisingly, he was not expecting Carbon. The young man looked from Alex to Carbon and then back to Alex. He sounded as confused as he looked. “Can... Can I help you?”
“Yeah. Get two foot long number twelves with everything and an iced tea. To go.” A nice straightforward answer should help things along.
Carbon leaned over to Alex, elbowing him gently. “I would like a root beer.”
“And a root beer. Also to go.” He didn’t manage to hide the surprise, he hadn’t expected her to go for a soda.
“Yeah, sure.” He punched the order into the terminal and by the time Alex had paid, the fountain had produced the drinks. The young man fit them into a drink carrier and slid it across the counter before stepping over to the prep area, firing up the old fashioned meat slicer after he prepared two rolls.
He didn’t exactly stare at Carbon while he was working, but he did seem more than a little distracted by her presence as he slid a piece of prosciutto across the cutter without using a pusher, gloved fingers uncomfortably close to the spinning blade.
Carbon picked up the drink carrier. “I think I will wait outside.”
“That’s probably a good idea.”
Things seemed to go more smoothly after that, if not slowly. The kid seemed new, taking his time checking and cleaning the blade between meats. Not that big a deal, the shuttle had pre-approved access to the diplomatic airspace for another fifteen hours.
Alex looked outside and noticed Carbon and Kanete sitting at one of the tables, talking to some guy. Glowing letters across the shoulders of his body armor said “POLICE,” a solid indicator that he was a cop. Things seemed copacetic for the moment.
“Here you are, sir. Have a good night.” It sounded more like a question.
Alex picked up the bag and headed for the door. “Thanks, you too.”
“You say you are here on personal business?” The cop was looking at Carbon’s ID, the one from the Navy in one hand, some sort of Tsla’o credential in the other.
“Yes. As I just explained, I am here having dinner with my escort’s family and being shown around the arcology.” There was a hint of exasperation in her voice. Things seemed to not be going as well as Alex had thought.
“And who would that be?”
“That would be me. Officer?” Alex smiled and set the bag down on the table.
“I’m going to need you to stand right over there, sir.” He pointed to the support column between Benny’s and the clothes store next to it.
That rubbed Alex the wrong way, and definitely rankled Carbon. Alex leaned in and read his badge. “Look, Officer Dunne, we are just-”
“You need to go stand over there, right now.” Officer Dunne again pointed to where he wanted Alex to go, his other hand conspicuously close to his sidearm.
“Yeah, sure.” He turned his Amp’s networking on and linked in to the local wireless as he walked over to the indicated area. A flick of his mind activated the thought-to-speech system, his normal speaking voice already cued up, and he pressed a comm link through to the local Police station’s non-emergency number.
It rang twice before someone picked up. A smooth female voice with a practiced line. “Berkeley Police, Fifth Deck, West Precinct. How may I help you?”
He stayed silent - the officer had made it clear he didn’t want to hear what Alex had to say - and let his Amp synthesize a nearly perfect imitation of his natural speaking voice. “My name is Alex Sorenson, I am with the Office of Naval Intelligence. I need to speak to the most senior person on duty immediately.” He pressed his credentials package through to her workstation. He had never really looked at the digital version. Multiple cryptographic seals were present on it now, which was a change from his Pilot days. There was silence for a good ten seconds as the high-end crypto seals reached out to a Navy server and the one that the police had clearance to decrypt verified that he was, in fact, a bona fide spy with a shocking amount of redacted information spilling out over her screen.
Ok, it didn’t actually say he was a spy. It just said that he was an Intelligence Specialist, which given the things that the ONI got up to in popular media, was probably worse to the layman.
She hesitated for a moment, the well practiced voice slipping. “Right away, sir.”
Officer Dunne did not seem to like any of the answers a continuously more frustrated Carbon was giving him. Kenete in the chair next to her had tensed up. While her eyes were still obscured under the helmet, something about her posture said she was fully prepared to end this guy with her bare hands and was just waiting on a go-ahead.
“This is Sergeant Ansel. What do you need?” He sounded older, gruff, and more than a little harried.
“Sergeant, thank you. I’m over here on 5-D, west promenade, section four. Your officer Dunne is detaining the dignitary I am escorting. Since he will do nothing but threaten me, would you kindly call him off before he causes an incident.” Alex stood stock still, staring at the back of the officer, still using the synthesized voice to carry out the conversation.
Ansel heaved a sigh. “If Officer Dunne has stopped her, I’m sure he has a good reason.”
Her. That was interesting. Alex was quite sure he hadn't mentioned anything about who was involved aside from Dunne. “Has he pulled their visas yet?”
“Visas?” A moment of confusion, followed by the clatter of an old fashioned mechanical keyboard and then distant, aggravated complaints about Dunne under his breath. Nothing nice to say, apparently. “He hasn’t run anything recently and is currently not logged as performing a stop. Let me get his bodycam- are those aliens?”
It was nice to hear a little bit of anger rising in Ansel's voice. “They are. Sergeant, let me clarify: this dignitary is the crown princess of the Tsla’o Empire. I am the liaison appointed by the Confederation’s Office of Naval Intelligence. You should have my credentials already. There are multiple fireteams of honest to god soldiers on Deck 8 waiting for her safe return. We would prefer not to have relations sour because they felt they had to exfiltrate - I fear I am repeating myself here - the crown princess of the Tsla'o Empire because one of your guys was bored. Please, get on your comm and call him off or we’re all going to end up regretting the choices he’s made in life.” Letting the Amp manage his voice left him sounding a lot more cool and collected than he felt. It probably lacked the urgency that was needed in this situation as well. Alex estimated that Carbon was very close to out of patience, and he did not think Dunne would like the outcome of that.
Dunne stopped mid-sentence and turned his head, the universal sign for having gotten a call in your ear. He spoke a few times and then set Carbon’s identification back on the table, nodded at her, and walked away. He and Alex glared at each other as he made his way down the promenade. “Thank you, Sergeant. Officer Dunne doesn’t realize it yet but he appreciates what you did as well. Have a good night.”
“This night had been going well.” Carbon was understandably wound up, standing as Alex came back.
“Yeah, I don’t know what the hell his problem was.” Alex glanced over his shoulder to make sure he had kept walking. He had a pretty good idea what his problem was, but this didn’t feel like the place to get into the weeds about abuse of power in the police force. “Got it sorted out, though.”
“What did you do?”
“Called local PD and waved that fancy ONI badge in their face. Only had to warn them that Dunne continuing with what he was doing was going to start a shooting war, right here and now.”
“So little?” Despite everything, she laughed softly and slipped an arm around his waist.
“That’s all.” He retrieved the sandwiches and they continued towards the nearest elevator.
Carbon sighed and rested her head on his shoulder. “Alex?”
“Yeah?”
“I am not letting you take any side trips from now on.”