Harnsis and Martinez left Draun proper and funneled out into the city. Martinez had learned from Harnsis at that point that the city and the base did share the same name, but most people, when they said “Draun,” were referring to the station, the surrounding urban sprawls becoming an afterthought, as the city was the product of hundreds of standard cycles of aliens settling in around the station.

The city was abuzz with life as they weaved through its streets. They passed by hundreds of shops, apartment buildings, boutiques, and other specialty locations. Each made it easy to understand what they sold, even if you could not understand the myriad of languages on the signage. Martinez scanned each building they passed with childlike wonder, absorbing every detail of the sublime city streets.

Martinez had grown up in the remnants of Southern California and had been raised hearing the stories of his grandfather, one of the first Humans to leave the Sol system. His tales of stepping onto distant planets and meeting some of the first representatives of the Galactic Union had inspired a young Martinez quite literally to reach for the stars. Now that he was living on those distant worlds, and with those aliens his grandfather set out to prove were real, he could not imagine what his grandfather would think if he could see him now.

Harnsis noted Martinez gawking at almost everything they passed and gave a small chuckle at his Human companion. “Don't worry, Human Martinez. You will get used to being here, and I'm certain you will also find many fun things to do.”

Martinez looked away from a display stand that showed off sunglasses made for different species and gave a brimming smile to Harnsis, “Yeah, I certainly hope so.”

Harnsis, while understanding what Martinez meant with the gesture, still felt slightly unnerved by the toothy smile. Exceptionally, few species performed any similar gesture to display joy, but he did not want to stomp on the feelings of his latest staff member, so he did not bring it up for now.

Turning off the main street, Harnsis gestured at a short, unimposing building, a simple box red brick building with rows of windows extending up its four floors, with the occasional potted plant on small shelves hanging from the windows. If not for the steady flow of aliens currently entering the wider-than-normal double doors, Martinez could easily imagine the building on the streets of New York City.

“Here we are, Human Martinez. I tried to find an apartment similar to the buildings back on Earth. Did I do well?” the doctor asked.

Martinez nodded, “Yeah, Doc, you did.”

Chittering in satisfaction, Harnsis led Martinez into the building. Inside, the hallways were wider and slightly taller than average Human construction, about half a meter wider in all directions than those back on Earth. The reason was evident when he saw a lumbering hairy alien enter his apartment on the second floor, both of the shoulders of the creature scraping the walls.

The air was heavy with a potpourri of pungent odors, flowers, citrus, and burning fats, and what Martinez hoped was just the smell of sweat coated the air like a thick soup. These smells danced around and accosted Martinez’s nose, causing his hair to curl. He could not imagine what half of them were and frankly did not really care.

Reaching the top floor, the door to Martinez’s new apartment was at the end of the hall, perched above the main doors. Martinez swiped his ID in front of the lock just off the side of the door. With a satisfying hiss, the door slid open, and Martinez stood with bated breath and watched as the room was slowly revealed.

Martinez was not quite sure what he was expecting the apartment to look like, but what he found was definitely not amongst his expectations. The room looked like a thrift shop selling knick-knacks and furniture from all over the Earth had exploded inside, slapping every surface in a different part of Humanity’s decor.

There were intricately woven wool curtains of dark tans and bright, interchanging colors draped over the windows. Half a dozen bean bag chairs surround a short, clean white table with some kind of curtain around its edges. Glistening atop it was a bowl filled with wax fruit placed neatly atop the table. Martinez knew they were wax on sight because they were all fruits native to Earth, and there was no way Earth's produce had made it this far out in the galaxy yet.

In the corner was a tall bookcase next to a television. Its shelves were overflowing with what looked like old DVDs. Each DVD had a white covering, with something written in a language Martinez could not recognize. Undoubtedly, whatever movies on the disks were pirated or were so old that the original package had fallen apart.

Looking towards the small kitchenette, several knives of varying sizes that looked like ax handles lay on a large countertop. Above them, there were several cabinets, and next to that was one of the modern refrigeration units Martinez had become familiar with since joining the Navy. Atop the cabinets and refrigerator were dozens of the little trinkets, notably several dolls and carved statues that stared down at Martinez, their beady eyes judging their new owner.

A pair of currently closed doors was on the far wall between the living room and kitchenette. They were simple and cheap plastic swinging doors. They were the most jarring out of everything in the room because they were so mundane in comparison.

In absolute glee, Harnsis fluttered inside and landed dead center in the open space between the kitchenette and the living room. He turned around and gestured wide with all four short arms while his wings slowly swayed back and forth behind him. “So, Human Martinez, what do you think?”

Martinez looked around the room and struggled to take in the scene. Harnsis certainly had been doing his homework on Humans. What books and websites the passionate alien had used for studying was beyond him, but it was clearly something that at least directed him to an insane amount of Human artifacts.

“Uhhh Doc– where did you get all of this?” Martinez asked while trying not to laugh at the mishmashed gaudiness of the room's decor.

“I scoured the data net for anything I could get my hands on. It was so much fun to read about the items and their history as I was shopping,” Harnsis chittered as he fluttered towards the cabinets to grab hold of one of the dozens of little statues.

Martinez walked into the room and dumped his seabags next to the beanbags. The weight falling away relieved small amounts of pain in his long-time battered lower back.

“Doc, how did you pay for all this?” Martinez asked.

Harnsis picked up one of the statues and delicately handed it to Martinez. “Don't worry about the cost; the Director signed off on everything. Especially once I assured him it was all to help with your integration into the station,” he said proudly.

Oh god, was that why the director looked at me like some kind of Freeloader? Had I already cost him a lot of money? Martinez bemoaned.

“If you say so, Doc,” Martinez said as he looked down at the small nesting doll.

Its craftsmanship's tender care and attention to detail were evident at a glance; its smooth porcelain surface glistened in the room's dim light. The hand-painted Matryoshka judgingly stared back at Martinez; it was so painstakingly detailed it was almost photo-realistic. A lump grew in Martinez’s throat as he inspected the doll. Something this detailed just screamed money to Martinez, especially for a lowly enlisted man like him.

“What else did you get?” Martinez asked, slightly worried about the answer.

“Oh, not much else. A bed and a few other things. Come, let me show you,” Harnsis preened before he flew toward the room's far-end doors.

Martinez took another look at what was around him. That answer and the doctor's excitement did not reassure him that this would be just a few things.

They went into the bedroom at the back of the apartment. Martinez’s heart shuddered nervously as the doctor’s green chitinous hands took hold of the dull metal knob and began to twist it.

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

“I chose everything in here as well. I have no doubt you will enjoy my selection,” Harnsis said as the door parted. The scent of orange and cloves poured out of the room and rolled over Martinez like a wave.

Oh dear god, Martinez thought as his new bedroom came into full view.

Front and center in the room was a massive king-sized bed that took up most of the room—leaving only about 15 centimeters between its sides and the wall. Atop the bed was what Martinez prayed wasn’t a silk blanket. There was a single window in the room and a large black stained dresser barely fitting between the wall and the foot of the bed. Its doors were open, with pieces of paper proudly displayed on each shelf.

“Human Martinez, I was very surprised your species had something similar to my people's traditional clothing. The bedding was made on Earth in a country called Japan. The seller was lovely to work with, and they even sent a letter along with the order.” Hansis said as he grabbed a letter out of the dresser.

Taking hold of the letter, Martinez could not read anything on it, as the seller did not make it in English or Galactic standard, so he assumed it must have been Japanese. The card was made of heavy eggshell color cardstock, and the letters were inlaid in shimmering gold.

Martinez’s heart sank fully into his gut, disappearing into an ocean of worry. Martinez could not fathom how much money this must have cost the hospital. He made a frantic mental note to try and speak to the Director about the cost later.

“Thanks, Doc, I love the room,” Martinez said through slightly gritted teeth.

Simultaneously, his mind was screaming in fear. Each thought running through his imagination was running through an inferno of burning stacks of cash. He could barely afford a weekend of heavy drinking in port, much less Silken bedding.

Thankfully, the rest of the tour was reasonably uneventful. As far as Martinez could tell, the bathroom was untouched by Harnsis’ expensive attempt at interior decorating. The doctor also told Martinez he ordered copies of many of these items for himself, thankfully not on the same bill. Before Harnsis left, he wished Martinez a lovely night and looked forward to seeing him at work tomorrow.

After the doctor left, Martinez unpacked his gear and stuffed it all into their proper places. He then intently walked about the apartment, taking his time to learn his new abode in peace, wanting to ensure he knew all the entrances and exits, not that there were many. As Martinez did, he constantly found more of the little trinkets Harnsis had purchased around the apartment, placed inside the cupboards, or tucked behind other baubles.

Once Martinez felt he relatively knew his new home, he sunk into one of the plush bean bag chairs. He sighed and tried to relax despite the situation he found himself in. While the doctor insisted the station had already paid for everything. Martinez had dealt with the government, military, and hospitals enough to understand that he would somehow be fronting this bill, whether in blood, sweat, tears, or some combination of the three.

“Problems for another time,” Martinez groaned as he stretched his tired body. While he straightened out, his stomach grumbled loudly, breaking the silence of his lonely apartment. Glancing down at his watch, Martinez realized that he had not eaten in almost fourteen hours.

“Yeah, stomach, some food would be good, maybe some beer too,” he mumbled as he got up to find something to satisfy his hunger.

The city streets were nowhere near as packed as a few hours ago. A decent amount of folk were still out and about, but most seemed to have gone home by now.

Martinez almost aimlessly wandered the streets for a while, enjoying the sights and sounds of the city in the dim light of the setting twin suns. After a few more pangs of hunger, Martinez found his way back to the street of food stalls and shops he and the doctor had passed by earlier.

Martinez took his time perusing the stalls and restaurants. He was practically drooling as he went along; each piece of food looked more succulent than the last, but he wanted something that reminded him of home, something similar to what his grandmother used to cook up after school. Martinez doubted he would find tacos or anything similar but was hopeful he might stumble upon something with the same eye-watering kick.

One stall was tucked just off the main road. Martinez would have passed it by if not for its eye-catching sign. The sign on it was vibrant and hinted at what the food might be like. A volcano erupted with twinkling red lights that mimicked heat rising past what looked like kebabs.

Martinez walked closer to the humble shop, and rows of those kebabs appeared in his vision. They sizzled atop an open coal flame, a few drops of their fat dropping into the coals and catching fire. Martinez licked his lips as the rich smell of rendering fat clawed into his gut.

Martinez looked around for whoever was supposed to be manning the stall but did not see anyone. He was about to walk away, assuming the tender decided to take a smoke break or something along those lines, until there was a shifting noise behind the cart.

A short, lithe alien popped up across the grill from Martinez, a red apron slung over their neck with old grease stains covering its surface. Their appearance was somewhat like a pangolin, a scale-covered body with short, rather sharp-looking scales running down their back. Their two beady eyes stared at Martinez.

“Are you going to order or just gawk?” The creature said, pointing at Martinez with a grease-covered pair of tongs

“Oh yeah, sorry, I will take one. Sorry, I am new here and was surprised by, well, everything,” Martinez replied nervously.

“Oh great, another new one; well, fair warning, my Kerintian skewers are the spiciest bit of food sold around here. You sure you want one?” the creature said as its scales clattered together.

Glad my guess was right. It is spicy food, Martinez thought.

He nodded and said, “Definitely, it can't be that hot.”

The Alien nodded before he wrapped one of the kebabs on a piece of waxed paper and handed it over to Martinez. The warm meat dripped steaming golden oil out of its wrapping. Opening the food and looking at the morsel up close, there were spackles of color on its surface, light grays and blacks spread evenly on it like the tender morsel had been dunked in whatever the spice was.

“All right, buddy, eat up. Let's see if you still think it's not that hot,” the alien boasted, his tail patting loudly on the concrete behind them.

Martinez took a bite of the meal, and it was delicious. The meat was tender and melted in his mouth. Initially, the taste was similar to black pepper but had a slight citrus twang. After swallowing, Martinez eagerly waited to feel the heat of the meal really kick in, but after almost half a minute of waiting with bated breath, the burning sensation never came.

Confused, Martinez looked up to ask the alien if he might have given him the wrong skewer but paused when he noticed the alien's stare of mixed shock and horror.

“What gives? This is normally when someone should be crying for their mother,” the alien complained.

Martinez shrugged and said, “I was just about to ask if you gave me the wrong food. This isn’t spicy at all.”

The alien paused and looked Martinez up and down with a pondering twinkle in his eye. After a few seconds, he cleared a few spots on the grill, having decided what he wanted to do.

“Ok, hot shot, I can give you one more thing. Let's see if you like this one,” the alien scoffed while crossing its arms.

“Is it hotter than this? If it is, yeah, I will take it,” Martinez said as he tossed the paper of the first skewer into a trash can.

The alien pulled out a small plastic box from underneath the cart. When he opened it, more cuts of meat were inside, floating in some thick yellowish sauce. The alien wickedly chuckled as it placed two pieces on a skewer and tossed them on the grill, sounding like a vile supervillain who had captured the hero.

Martinez watched in curiosity as the Alien hap haphazardly poured other spices from bottles onto the charring meat. He wondered if the flavor would be like mustard since the food was a bright yellow.

“These were going to be part of my lunch, but I would pay to see you try them,” he snickered after tucking the bottles back into his apron. The alien rubbed his hands together like a hag basking in their latest concoction.

Once the meat had been thoroughly cooked, the alien tossed the two slightly charred morsels onto a new piece of paper for Martinez. Grabbing hold of the skewer, Martinez hesitated for a moment, wondering if the alien was actually going to give him something spicy or if this would be another flop.

“What are you backing out now, big guy?” The alien mocked.

“No, I'm not,” Martinez retorted before ripping the first piece of meat off the stick.

The sweet and spicy taste of this piece exploded in Martinez’s mouth. Its warm juices coated his mouth with its succulent flavor. Martinez thought about the flavor and sadly concluded the food was not spicy at all. It would be about as hot as a pepperoncini if he had to compare it to some pepper. As soon as Martinez swallowed the first piece, he ravenously devoured the second, and this one was prepared just as flawlessly as the first.

The alien behind the stand looked mortified as if he was standing only a few centimeters away from a corpse.

“How by the firstborn's blood are you still standing? I have never seen anyone eat Kichu leaf sauce without puking,” he exclaimed, gesturing wildly at Martinez.

“Sorry, buddy, that wasn’t that hot. My normal hot sauce is way spicier than that. The food did taste good, if it means anything,” Martinez said while licking the sauce remnants off his lips.

“Yeah, I suppose it does. I am impressed. What are you anyways, uh?” the alien sighed, gesturing up and down at Martinez.

“Martinez, I'm a Human. And you?” he replied.

“Ezol, I'm a Valmin. I've never met a Human before, and you were certainly an interesting one to meet,” Ezol said.

“Thanks for the meal, Ezol. What do I owe you for eating your lunch?” Martinez questioned.

Ezols snout wiggled for a moment before waving his hand dismissively and saying, “It’s on the house. The entertainment was worth it. But if you want to do me a favor, could you bring me some of that hot sauce you mentioned?”

“Yeah, I can do that for you,” Martinez said, smiling.