Kipo woke up well-rested. It was a nice change. She sat up blearily, wincing as pain jumped through her arm. She looked down in surprise to see the bloodstained strip of shirt still on her upper arm. Then she remembered that the day before, she'd been shot. Ah. Yes. That had definitely happened.
She looked around the morning-lit boxcar, and all of the memories of the previous day came back to her. Of the portal, the aliens, and the guardian. "Yeah," she told herself, sighing. "That was… quite the day." She rubbed her arm, taking a deep breath, then shivered. Wow. It was cold.
"Good morning, Miss Kipo!"
She jumped slightly, then laughed as Pork swung down from the ceiling of the box car, the front of his shell spinning happily. "Good morning, Pork."
"You are cold! The guardian fixed the clothes to fit you better, they are sitting outside."
She paused at that. "How does he know my… size?"
"Remember when I scanned you? I kept the sizes just in case. And then I told him. I hope that is ok."
She blinked. "Ah. I suppose…" She met his curious blue eye, and smiled. "Yeah, you're ok. Thank you, Pork."
"You're welcome! The clothes are outside the door, and the Guardian is waiting for you, but did not want to wake you."
"Ok."
Pork bobbed and buzzed away.
She stood, eyes widening as her socks immediately chilled against the metal floor. She moved to put her shoes on, then looked to the cloth door. Kipo reached out and found the bundle of clothing, hugging it to her chest to get it warmer as fast as possible. "Herbs out," she commanded, and her fur began to insulate her again. Yeah, that was going to be really nice for the future. As she changed, Kipo wondered whether or not to show the guardian her jaguar powers. Would they freak him out? He had crazy sun powers, as he'd said, but still… This world didn't look like it had anything like mutes.
She remembered when she'd let it out by accident, and scared Wolf. Kipo shuddered. That hadn't been a good day. Maybe she should break it to him slowly.
But she definitely had to tell him. She owed the guardian that.
She tied her shoes and went outside, smiling as she looked down at her new outfit. The guardian was surprisingly good at sewing and adjusting-how long had all this taken him? He must have stayed up for several more hours, she realized-and not only did the clothing fit her surprisingly well, it also looked good!
There was the pair of camouflage cargo pants that went past her knees, thick socks that were definitely too big for her but she absolutely didn't mind for their warmth, a black long sleeve shirt and a knit green sweater, with a black hooded poncho over it all. There was also a pair of adjustable fingerless gloves that absolutely completed the look, and she posed a few times, enjoying the outdoorsy mountain girl look.
"If you're done, miss fashion star," came a call, "we've got a lot to do today." It took Kipo a moment to find the guardian, halfway up a nearby ridge on a flat area. He was perched in a tree, hood over his head like he was allergic to the sunlight.
"You're calling me the fashion star, you're the one that designed it!" She struck another pose. "My modeling should be a compliment to your work, I don't charge... a lot. Oh, all right, all right..." Kipo took off up the hill, and caught up to him quickly. "Thank you so much for the clothes, I really appreciate it!"
The guardian just shrugged and dropped down. "It's not a big deal." The bags under his eyes had darkened.
"Uh, time to shoot guns then?" Kipo asked uncertainly.
"Yeah." He seemed to be only carrying two on him, the rifle she'd seen him grab, and the big pistol.
She looked around him, looking for more. "You said you had a lot."
"I do. Pork carries them."
As if he'd been summoned by the mention, Pork materialized out of thin air. "I have room for thirty weapons in all three slots!" he announced proudly.
"Woah…" Kipo breathed. "Wait. Where are they?"
"How's your arm?"
"It's better than yesterday, for sure. But-"
"C'mon," the guardian said, waving, "we're not shooting around here. Too close to the firebase." He started walking, and Kipo followed, excitement growing. "Silencers can only do so much, and they are expensive."
"No, seriously, where are they."
The guardian tossed a package behind him, and Kipo caught it by reflex. "Breakfast. Eat up."
She licked her lips and tore the energy bar's wrapper off excitedly.
Pork bobbed beside her. "I can answer your question, Miss Kipo! I hold the guardian's guns in my internal storage bank!"
"Wait," she garbled through a mouthful of food. "Aren't matter and data two completely different things?"
"Not anymore! Both the technology of the Golden Age of humanity and the processes of the Light can transmute matter to data and back again, allowing ghosts, engram decrypters, and some weapons to instantly convert one to the other!"
"Woah…" Kipo shook her head and almost tripped over a rock, her brain trying to interpret what she'd just heard, chew, and walk at the same time. That was a lot of science that she had no idea what to do with. She smiled at Pork. "Thank you, Pork! I might have some more questions for you later, about all that."
"You're welcome, Miss Kipo! It would be a pleasure."
"So." She swallowed, turning her attention on the guardian. "If you don't want to tell me your name, can I please find something to call you? Because guardian's gonna get old pretty quick."
He ducked under a fallen tree with a sigh. "No. Everyone else calls me that, you're going to have to deal with calling me that, too."
"How about Blue?"
He looked back, expression dumbfounded. "Why in the wide world is that an option? Also no."
"Because you're blue! Obviously. You're gonna have to tell me about why that's even a thing, just letting you know."
"I'm an Awoken, it's just part of us. Also, that's dumb, it's like me calling you Pink."
"I'm not-"
"You absolutely are. A strange amount of you is distinctly magenta."
"Ok, fine, I'll give you that one, but still! I actually told you my name, that's why you can't call me Pink, because I gave you my name to call me by, it's a principle thing."
"Well, I gave you a name to call me by. Guardian."
"But that's more like a job description than a name!" She thought for a moment, stepping over one of those innocent-looking streams. "What about Crow?"
"Kipo, I don't want to talk about this."
"Ok…" She subsided for a bare moment, before something struck her like a happy lightning bolt. "You're just like somebody I know back home!"
The guardian sighed, obviously resigning himself to talking further. "How so?"
"She also doesn't like names, loves weapons, and has the 'I'm a tough scarred loner' act. Don't get me wrong!" she hastily amended. "Being a tough scarred loner is totally valid! The world is scary. But anyway, you two would get along great." A silence dared to last longer than five seconds, then Kipo broke it. "I called her Wolf. Because she had a wolf pelt that she wore. It fit her really well. The name, and the pelt, that is. Actually," Kipo laughed once, stuffing the wrapper in her new pocket. "I called her Wolfatha Christie the Fourth once, but that was mostly a joke."
"I'm glad you have friends, Kipo. They must have had a lot of patience."
Kipo caught the slight bite in his words, and wilted slightly. "Sorry." A real silence, and they walked in it for a time. Kipo sighed, trying to distract herself with the beautiful forest around her. This area really reminded her of the Timbercat forest, with tons of pine trees, covering the profiles of mountains and hills, with occasional ruins or alien structures breaking the trees here and there. The trees weren't as big, of course.
"You're welcome. About the clothes, I mean. I'm glad you like them." It was so out of the blue, and so sincere, that she almost tripped. "Also, I'm sorry," he continued. "I shouldn't have been so harsh." Kipo watched the back of his head, but he said nothing else, just continued walking.
"Yeah, they're really comfortable. And friends are nice," she replied, then let the silence sit, for once. She'd have lots of time to talk later. They continued on, reaching the top of the ridge. The pair went down the far side, Kipo sliding down energetically while the guardian took his time. She waited at the bottom, then was about to set off again when suddenly a slender and extremely long gun appeared in the guardian's hand. He set it on the ground, ignoring her gasp of surprise as another gun suddenly appeared, a squatter and heavier-looking metal thing with a thick barrel. He placed that one next to the first, then, suddenly, there were two guns at once, a smaller pistol and a gun that looked a lot like the guns she'd seen in her textbooks.
"This place should do," he said, placing the guns gently on the ground next to the others. He unslung the one off his shoulder and drew the one on his hip confidently, placing them down as well. "Come here, I'll show you."
Kipo, eyes wide, made her way to where she could see them all at once.
"Does any of this make sense? Do you know the names of these?"
"Spinny gun, long gun, thick gun, less long gun, small gun, and gun."
He raised an eyebrow. "Seriously?"
Kipo laughed, but actually thought about it for a second. "Well, the long ones are called rifles, right? And the small ones are pistols, I think."
"Ok, now there's something I can work with. You're on the right track." He picked up the rifle she'd seen the most of. "This is a scout rifle. It's called that because of this." He pointed to the lenses mounted on the gun. "The scope."
"It's like a small telescope, right? Helps you see farther."
"Exactly. You can pick off enemies from farther distances with longer scopes. Usually, the scopes help you know how far the gun's effective range is. If you can see clearly, you can probably shoot it. Understood?"
"I guess."
"More gun basics." He pushed a button on the side, and a slanted rectangular box fell out. "This is a magazine. It carries the bullets." He tilted it sideways, showing them to her. He slid one out and handed it to her. "It's not dangerous right now."
Her eyes widened as she took the shiny brass thing in her hand. "Ok."
"Slide the magazine in the gun to make it shoot." He demonstrated, then reached and slid back a small bar on the side. "That's the bolt. It's held back until you pull the trigger, then is used to make the bullets go off." He leveled the gun away from her and fired it several times, causing her to yelp in shock as bangs echoed around the clearing. "In this specific case," he continued, "it fires them one at a time, before being reset to fire again, until the magazine is empty. Questions so far?"
She wasted no time. "How does a bullet work? How many fit in the box- magazine? What mechanism holds the bolt back? And HOW did you make them appear like that?"
He sighed. "I should have expected that. Ok, come here, I'll show you."