Happy Memorial Day weekend all who celebrate. If you don't then a Happy weekend anyway. As I said elsewhere, sorry for the delay. Real Life and a bit of the downers have slowed me down. Apologies. Then this story I'm not quite sure where it's going. It's headed somewhere but I think I lost the map. Anyway, thank you for all your attention and your kindnesses. Favs, follows, and comments keep me going when I just want to lose myself in a tub of coffee ice cream. Sigh. As always I'm not perfect and if you spot a mistake please let me know. Cheers and have a great weekend.
Condiments
Garrus
Dinner that night started off a very awkward affair. Most of Garrus's squad hadn't worked extensively with humans. Most of Howell's crew, excluding Mazera, hadn't worked much with Turians.
Garrus and Mazera, he had no idea where Howell was, introduced the two groups to each other. Sergeant Jask Hazlon, head of the squad under Garrus, his soldiers – Yelter, Tocsin, Renna, and Malda. On the human side – under Sergeant Mazera were the Maori – Ihaka and Ari Roberts, Scott Essex, and Evan Scott
Sitting down at the same table and breaking bread as the humans said, (And wasn't that an odd phrase) both sides looked like they would have welcomed a pirate incursion with more pleasure. Neither side really liked, though they pretended, the smell or look of the other side's food. To add to the problem, Tocsin was eating an obscure delicacy, Ladaak, a kind of snail that had to be eaten alive. That wouldn't have been such a problem except that 'dinner' kept trying to escape the plate. Humans didn't tend to eat their food alive and, as Mazera told him, trying to make a break for it.
Tocsin got momentarily distracted; and most the Ladaak staged a mass escape and he then had to chase down his dinner and dig them out from under various pieces of tableware, much to the uncertainty of the humans.
"Are all Turian dishes this…"Mazera paused and smirked, obviously more amused than horrified "…mobile."? She'd sat down across from him and the two of them had been having a fairly good conversation while they watched their people not interacting, and wondered what they could do about it. Jack, who held the same position on Garrus's squad as she did on the humans, was sitting to Garrus's left, listening quietly.
"Some are, but we usually don't eat them in front of non-Turians." He sighed. "But right now, getting anything other than military rations is almost impossible."
"Oh." Mazera grinned. "So there's a higher up somewhere doing without his or her fancy food?"
"Actually no. Seems that Ladaak" he indicated the snail like things, "..can be raised in the evaporation pans for our ships environmental systems."
"They're not supposed to be there; but…" He trailed off as Tocsin had to grab another one before it climbed into the sugar bowl.
"But there's always someone who's figured out a way to get around the regs or doesn't even pay attention to them." Mazera supplied.
"That's almost unheard of on a Turian vessel; but there are always one or two." He admitted.
He was peripherally aware that Howell still wasn't any where around; but as he went to ask Mazera where the Major was – the impasse broke.
One of the human squad – Evan Scott looked over to see Jask upending most of a bottle of ketchup on his dinner. Not that military rations wouldn't benefit from a little flavor but Jask carried it to extremes, at least, where ketchup was concerned.
"Er, you want a little dinner with that ketchup?" He finally asked, awed.
"Spirits, don't encourage him." That was Tocsin, chasing down yet another Ladaak. "He puts ketchup on everything. He'd put ketchup in his Khaal if you gave him the chance."
Jask ignored the snide remarks. "You people just don't appreciate a good thing."
"You don't appreciate it. You overdo it." Came the retort from the entirety of Garrus's squad.
Surprised, there were chuckles and snorts from the humans at that, which elicited amused chuffs from all the Turians save Jask, of course.
After that, with the ice broken, or the ketchup squeezed, the two groups found it easier to talk among each other.
"I had one guy in one of my first postings, he put jalapenos on everything." Ari Roberts, spoke up. "Jalapenos dried, fresh, and pickled. I don't even know where he found them."
There was a groan from a couple of the others. "You mean 'fire spit' Sanchez don't you?"
"Fire spit?" That was Jask, finally finishing putting ketchup (emptying the bottle) on his dinner.
Garrus had to admit privately that he probably wasn't going to be able to taste the rations since there was now more ketchup than food on his plate. A plus with this particular flavor of rations. Garrus swore it was made from old MAKO tires.
"Yeah, he ate so many of the damned things that his spit was near flammable." Scott Essex spoke up. Essex's accent was a lot crisper than some of the others. Aristocratic he'd heard it called. Well Turians from different colonies spoke with different accents also.
"What's a jalapeno?" That was Maas Yelter, Garrus's explosive expert.
"Little Green Fingers of Fire." Evan explained, which got puzzled looks from all the Turians.
"We'll have to let you try some." Ari added.
Garrus let out a sharp trill and all his people instantly looked to him.
"You can try a taste of this jalapeno thing only if you know you don't react to levo foods. If you invalid yourself out right before the mission, I will rip off your fringes." He promised them; but without a lot of heat. Garrus was one of the most laid back of the commanders, and his squad knew it. He also knew that they would not risk being taken off the mission, they were all professionals. There were mandible clics of acknowledgement from all the others.
After everyone had gone back to comparing postings, weapons, mods, battles, weird squad mates, and all the other mundane things soldiers talk about.
"Remind me to buy your sergeant a case of ketchup." Mazera murmured to him. "I was beginning to worry that they'd never talk to each other."
"Yeah, it's better to know one another than to try to get acquainted over expended heat sinks." Garrus commented while he was pushing his dinner from one side of his plate to the other.
"That bad?" Mazera inquired after watching him for a bit.
In answer, Garrus put a bite on his fork and held it up to a Ladaak that had escaped Tocsin's notice. The creature leaned forward as if to taste or smell then abruptly snapped back into its shell with a little hiss.
She winced at that. "Ouch."
Garrus finally gave up on his rations and pushed them to the side. Half way ready to go ask for some applesauce. It might not have much in the way of nutrients but it would taste a hell of a lot better.
"Eh, sorry about Howell." Mazera was chewing something with more fiber than taste if her face was anything to go by.
"Why sorry? And I was going to ask where the Major was." Garrus admitted, both hands wrapped around his mug of Khaal, enjoying the heat.
Mazera scowled. "He thinks he's too good to eat with the…" here she made those air quotes, so beloved of Councilor Sparatus. "….unwashed masses."
Garrus cocked his head at that, not understanding the term nor the explanation that his omni-tool provided.
"Unwashed masses?"
"Means the general public. In our cases it means the everyday soldier, the non-officers, the non-aristocratic." She explained.
Garrus let out a quiet trill at that. "Is he even going to be able to command in this situation? It's about experience and skill not who your parents were or what tier you are."
"Humans don't have tiers we have classes and Howell thinks his class is higher, read better, than all of us." She grumbled, then after a pause, she added.
"But to be fair, when it's all on the line, he can put his attitude aside and get the job done." Mazera was honest if reluctant. He liked that about her. Not everyone was capable of that kind of honesty.
As if speaking of him was some sort of call, Howell came walking in the door of the mess. He glanced around and spotted everyone. First getting his tray, he then walked over to the table.
Without a word, just a brief nod to Howell and Garrus, Mazera got up and slid her tray down to the end of the table, clearing space for Howell across from Garrus. Jask grabbed his plate and followed her lead. The two settled across from each other and Garrus was pleased to see that they were talking.
"Major." Garrus greeted him politely as he turned his attention back to the man.
"Praetor, how are the squads meshing together?" Howell signaled for Adelaide, one of the wait staff.
Garrus cast an eye down the length of the table where the Turians and the humans were interacting, at least more now than at the start of the meal. Yelter and Essex were avidly comparing notes on various ordnances. Garrus was a little leery of that. Yelter tended to get over enthusiastic about her explosions. Grunt would love her, hell, so would Shepard for that matter. Minimum expenditure, maximum carnage.
"They're coming along." He replied calmly. "It will take a bit."
Adelaide had come over in the mean time and she put a tea service, as the humans called it, on the table and in easy reach of Howell. Garrus still didn't totally understand the appeal of tea. Turians liked their Khaal but not to this extent.
While she was at the table, Adelaide took the time to give Garrus more hot water.
"Thank you." Garrus smiled at her. Used to Turians by now, Adelaide recognized that he was smiling at her and returned it.
"Vakarian, Major." With a nod to both officers she was gone.
Another thing Garrus had learned was to let the humans get their tea fixed to their liking. If you interrupted them, they didn't seem to really be able to concentrate till everything was perfect. A specific number of lumps of sweetener and some white liquid they called cream. It could be a long involved process, fortunately Howell was relatively quick about it. A couple of lumps of sweetener and no cream.
"What kind of exercises should we put them through, Praetor?" Howell sipped his tea.
"Vakarian is fine, Major." Garrus told him, taking a drink of his Khaal.
"But you earned the rank of Praetor." Howell was surprised.
Garrus snorted at that. "I think the Primarch just gave me that rank so the Generals would listen to me." Howell seemed amazed at Garrus's cavalier attitude about his rank; and he began to see what Mazera had been talking about.
"We have to see how each squad works and what our strengths and weaknesses are." Garrus said.
"We'll start them out with a ten mile hike in full pack." Howell stated. Garrus was aware peripherally that several of the humans grimaced at that but said nothing. They weren't supposed to be listening, but the Major's voice tended to carry even in the semi-crowded mess.
"Why? We roughly know the shape they're in since they've all been on active patrols." Again he seemed to have startled the Major. After a moment he wondered if it was surprise or if the Major hadn't liked having his orders challenged.
"We more need to see and let each other see where their strengths lie and what they're all good at."
He thought for a moment. "Make it a one mile hike in full gear then run them through a battery of tests. Infiltration, shooting, sniping, drone deployment, hacking and technical sabotage, sniping, and hand to hand." He paused. "Though no one should take on an X-Shock by hand. That is, as you say, suicide."
"Ordinance?" Essex piped up from further down the table. Obviously, though they shouldn't have been, everyone was listening in on their conversation. Yelter gave several excited mandible clicks.
"We'll see Essex." Howell told the young man. Who looked disappointed at that. As disappointed as Yelter did.
Howell watched them for a moment and when they went back to their conversation.
"Let's try to keep ordinance usage off the table." The Major had dropped his voice though Garrus was sure that Yelter could probably hear them.
"Oh?"
"Remind me sometime to tell you the tale of the Admiral's car and how, driver less, it took out a mess hall."
