"Well then, this time's Shanxi-exercise was certainly a doozy! One for the annals, I'd say!" the man in front of them said, seemingly happier than they had ever seen him before.
Emiya vaguely remembered him as the officer who had given them the original introduction speech, when he had arrived at this base. They had just returned an hour before, performed maintenance and checkups on all their gear, gotten what was broken turned in, and made lists of everything that was missing or in need of repairs, and then gotten the rest of it squared away before being ordered to assemble by the yard.
Most were exhausted by this point.
The exercise had stretched on for days, as the human resistance force had been given a boon that had for a long while completely turned the tides of battle. So those who had not been 'killed' or retired in another way, had a much longer fight ahead of them than was usual.
Unexpectedly, they had all been brought back as one group, so Emiya had plenty of downtime while waiting for a ride back.
In theory, anyhow.
In practice, he had spent most of the time avoiding people who suddenly wanted to make friends with him, as he simply tried to find things to do to pass the time. At first, he was dragged off again before half-a-dozen technicians to show exactly how he had done what he had with the weapons. Then, after proving that it hadn't just been a fluke and that he could do it on demand, he had to explain in exacting detail what it was that he was doing and how he had come to the conclusions he had.
It was the longest two hours of his life.
Not because he disliked weapons or explaining himself, but because everything he said was written down and examined in excruciating detail again and again. A lot of heads had been scratched during those meetings, as he tried to get across how simple his hack had been. It wasn't until one of them understood it and began to talk about it in terms the others understood, that any progress was made.
They apparently read completely different manuals than he did.
Finally, he was given a pat on the back, a bonus to his salary, and was made to sign an NDA to keep him quiet until the Alliance figured out a way to prevent what he had done from being repeated on them ever again. For now, there were talks of a software block in the systems, but it was a hack job at best.
Having nothing else to do, he had looked around for things to spend time on afterward.
Things which kept him out of sight and let him be in peace, as apparently everyone had questions for him about the things he had done. Finally, he had managed to worm his way into the field crew that was repairing the vehicles, and through pretending to feel guilty about wrecking another Mako, they had accepted his presence there.
Mostly they had had him standing by and fetching things, but ever so slowly he had wormed his way into a larger and larger role.
Shepard had found him at one point while he had been up to his waist in a Mako's engine, covered from head to toe in dirt and grease. She had taken one pointed look at him and then walked off while shaking her head with a smile.
Most of the technicians had laughed it off until an officer showed up and shouted at everyone for letting an untrained recruit come into contact with Systems Alliance property. He had been given a slap on the wrist and told to go somewhere else after that.
At that point, most of the people around had calmed down and he could sit in peace for five minutes without interruptions.
When finally the exercise was concluded, they were all shipped back and now here they were.
Most were still utterly exhausted, their time under the N-line cadets had been more than a simple walk in the park. The fighting had gone on for days, apparently with no end in sight until casualties mounted so high that the simulation ruled that a ceasefire had to be pursued. He hadn't really cared about the rest of the exercise, but it seemed that the communication relay's destruction had been a godsend and this year had gone considerably better than most.
"When I first saw you, I saw nothing but soft and useless whelps! But I knew you had potential. Potential to reach heights never seen before! I said to you on that first day that only once you have graduated to E7 will you be worth a damn in my eyes! Well, that has changed. I have been utterly and completely proven wrong and I have never felt prouder of that fact! My expectations for you were completely blown away! E7? Hah! Already we have some among us who will be joining the hallowed ranks of the N-school! You have done me proud, boys!"
Which of course meant that the brass wanted to make a speech.
It wasn't a bad one, really. But the timing was entirely off.
Most of everyone gathered here just wanted a hot shower, warm food, and a soft bunk to fall into. They didn't give a damn about any of this, not right now. Looking back after that, they might feel good and proud of what they had accomplished. But right now, they were simply annoyed at being held in formation while having to listen to a washed, fed, and well-rested man talk at them for an hour.
"Which is why I have decided, that in honor of your hard work, that you must all be rewarded! Effort and results ought to always be followed by equal honors and recompense! So do I say!"
That finally got some people's attention, as they perked up and stood straighter again. Some had seemed to be already sleeping upright.
"This coming weekend for your first leave, I shall be granting all of you two days of additional leave, for a total of four days, starting tomorrow morning! Now, get yourselves in order, for the last thing in today's schedule shall be the pre-leave checkups! Tomorrow morning, you shall all be leaving, first thing! Therefore all preparations for leave will have to be completed by tonight! I do not want a single shirt out of order in your rooms! You have all earned this vacation and I intend to give it to you, but only so long as my beautiful facility is left in flawless order in your absence! That will be all, NCOs, handle the rest!"
With that, the officer crisply saluted them with all the gusto he could muster, while staring proudly at the formation, and then he waddled off.
;
Emiya settled down onto his bunk, as all around him recruits were running around organizing their cabinets and gear.
A few hours from now, the NCOs would perform the final checks to note that everything in their lockers was squared away according to regulation. That meant everything they had been given and would not be wearing when they walked out, would have to be visible and in proper condition. Essentially it was to keep control over gear. From making sure no one kept sweaty or wet clothes in their lockers, where it could mold and start festering over the weekend, and to making sure no one grabbed all of their apparel and took it off-base and then later requisitioned for more.
Apparently, some of the poorer soldiers at one time had made some side-money by stealing and selling their underwear on their leave and then asking for replacements when they returned. Which was why they now were expected to fold and have visible every article of clothing and gear that they had in their lockers. Including their underwear. That people wore each article of their leave uniform when they left and subsequently returned, was also checked. But through omnitool scans for some measure of privacy.
Most of them had been expecting that they would still have days until they had to worry about it, thus the sudden rush and craze. That their first leave was coming up soon had been widely known and talked about, but the additional two days appended to the front had changed everything. Everyone was running around like headless chicken, trying to get their clothes dried and folded up in order as they packed up their personal belongings in a hurry.
Emiya on the other hand had always kept his locker in order, and he didn't have any extraneous belongings to worry about. Thus his relaxed state on top of his bunk.
He was an island of peace in the middle of a chaotic storm.
Beside him, Shepard was struggling with trying to fold one of her exercise one-piece suits into exacting the shape and dimensions necessary to make her locker presentable for the inspection later. She looked up at him, for the nth time that day.
He ignored her, keeping his eyes closed as he simply smirked.
She sighed, remembering his answer from earlier. 'I'm not your mother. The manual's right there, if you don't remember how to do it.'
Emiya continued to catnap, waiting for time to pass. At this point that was all he seemed to be doing anymore. Waiting. With most of their time in basic training done, soon enough they would all be shipped off to their next destinations. It was plain to see on everyone. There was a sense of accomplishment and purpose to them, even through the rush and rumble of trying to get all of their gear in order.
Even so, their NCOs found still time for new lectures over the din and hubbub.
They hadn't had any off-base free time, yet. So that they ought to behave despite being out and free again was being drilled right into their skulls, repeatedly, at every possible instance. Everything they did out of the Navy, even when not wearing a uniform, would reflect on the Systems Alliance Navy.
"No alcohol and absolutely no drugs while in uniform. No doing anything stupid - If you think I'd make you do laps for it. Don't. Do. It."
"No touching Susie. I assume you all know who I mean by that. Understood? Good. You'll all be taking urine tests when you come back, so don't think you're going to be able to pull a fast one on us. And drinking floor cleaner does not fool the urine test, either. Don't try it, for fuck's sake."
"And gentlemen. If she says no, that's your cue to back off. You fail to understand that simple word? I will personally hang you by your balls. That goes for you too, Shepard. I'll find an extra pair, just for you, if I have to."
"Fuck this up and I will skin each and every single one of you motherfuckers alive and wear you as a poncho. Understood?'
Personally, he had thought it a little much, but given some of the boasts and plans for the weekend he was hearing, he was sure that it had been entirely necessary and that none of it had sunk in into the half of the people who had needed to hear it.
Returning to base would be interesting, to say the least.
Cassani came walking up to them with his hands in his pockets as he approached.
"Heya."
Shepard looked up, nodding her greeting to the man as she went back to trying to fold her jumpsuit. Emiya opened his eye and looked at him, making his own greeting with a nod.
"So... uh... Whatcha guys thinking about doing on leave? I mean, for the first time in like... forever, we can just go do whatever!"
Shepard looked up at him. "Probably just gonna stay here. The NCOs were making such a fuss about me being a woman, saying I had to remain at all times with two others. Might as well stay here and just relax if it's such a huge deal. Why?"
"Well, the thing is, Rodriguez is being a little bitch right now because of Brazil, so he's ignoring me. So I thought, whether you guys might want to come hang out at my place. Well, I mean, it's my grandmother's place since I gave up my apartment when I enlisted... But there's plenty of space and food. I could show you guys the city and stuff, yeah?" Cassani said, rambling and fidgeting.
Emiya raised a brow.
It seemed that aside from each other, the two troublemakers hadn't really managed to make many friends among the recruits. They had that air of dismissive superiority that turned to passive annoyance and aggression when someone tried to talk to them. It wasn't a problem yet, though. They were merely still a little immature, and they'd grow up fine, since there was nothing wrong with their actual personalities.
They would turn into fine adults sooner or later.
Probably.
They weren't like Shepard had been, after all.
The woman in question looked up, thinking about the suggestion. "I suppose...? What about you, Emiya?"
He looked at her, considering it. Finally, he shrugged.
"Fine."
Cassani grinned at that. "Awesome! Yeah, it's gonna be great! Let's uh—you have any rides?" he turned thoughtful, considering something as he scratched his jaw.
Shepard shook her head while Emiya considered that, finally shaking his own head in the negative.
"Yeah, yeah! Okay, right. You should have more than enough money then for the tickets, since neither of you ever spends any of your credit on anything. After they let us out, just come find me and I'll get us squared, yeah?"
"Sure," Emiya replied with another shrug.
"Yeah, okay. Mind helping me with this thing?" Shepard repeated absently, looking up as she raised the tangled jumpsuit and undoing all of her efforts so far in trying to fold it up nicely.
Cassani blinked, before raising his hands and laughing as he backed away.
"Nah, you keep that thing away from me. I've just used the one and kept the other two spares folded up the entire time so I don't need to think about them. So good luck, but I ain't touching another of those."
Shepard scowled, before considering what he had said, looking at her locker.
"No," Emiya said simply, having already closed his eyes again.
"What?" Shepard asked, looking up from her thoughts.
"You are not doing like that idiot and only wearing one suit. That's disgusting. I'll break into your locker and unravel all of your clothes if I have to, so don't even think about it," he said from his bed.
She blinked before scowling at him. Though it looked more like a pout again, he knew even despite his closed eyes, smirking again as he sensed her eyes on him.
"You'll have to learn all that stuff sooner or later, so you might as well learn it now."
"I hate you," she grumbled, throwing down the suit and going back to trying to fold it up.
Cassani laughed at their by-play and walked away, back to his own bunk.
;
They stood in a formation again, just in front of the base gates. Mere minutes away from freedom.
That did not mean that their NCOs let up at all, though.
"Repeat after me; I will not drink!" They repeated, some shouting, some in a normal voice and some only moving their lips as they rolled their eyes. "I will not partake in any use of drugs I do not have a prescription for, be it for recreational purposes or otherwise!"
They repeated again and again, everything that was spoken to them. This was the fifth time since they had been told they would be receiving prolonged leave, already.
"And if we have to send out the military police to bring you in, may God have mercy on your souls, for I sure as hell will not! Now, dismissed!"
As one, the organized formation scattered in complete chaos. Recruits rush for the gates and group up, finding their friends and buddying up as they head out to make havoc.
Emiya and Shepard were no exceptions, finding Franco in the throng and walking up to him from behind.
"Freedom!" Cassani shouted, raising his hands up into the air. Behind him, they stared at him with blank eyes, judging him. He turned around as he noticed them, blinking at their reaction. "Come on, guys. Four days of shore leave? Why aren't you excited?"
"Well, four days in or four days out. I don't really get the difference," Shepard said, shrugging.
Emiya didn't bother to even say that much, simply looking around relaxed.
"Fine! Whatever, be like that. Come on. Follow me!" Cassani huffed and began to lead them away.
Reaching a large shuttle, they bought tickets and entered. Shepard seemed fairly familiar with the idea, leaving Emiya as the sole odd man out. I guess it's public transportation. Like a bus. Cassani must live close by, then.
He nodded to himself at that, sitting down in one of the seats. It looked like a bus—or an airplane version of one—too. With that, he opened his omnitool and settled down to read while ignoring the surroundings. Finally, after an hour Cassani notified him that it was time to get off. Emiya closed the omnitool and closed his eyes to wait for the bus to stop.
Overall the whole trip had been rather pleasant.
No turbulence, pleasantly quiet, good lighting, good air quality...
As they exited the shuttle, Emiya blinked as he looked out. He had expected them to have traveled perhaps some hundred kilometers at most. Looking up at the sun's position and noting how long they had been traveling, he noted a dissonance with that.
That, and the distinct architecture ahead that he recognized after a few seconds of staring.
He turned around to look at Cassani.
"We're in Barcelona?"
"Uh... Yeah?" Cassani blinked at that as if it had been obvious.
Emiya blinked, realizing they had gone around the globe in less than an hour. Suddenly, he felt foolish for not having looked out the window during the flight. Had they gone to orbit or had they flown through the atmosphere that quickly?
"Alright then," he replied, accepting that.
With element zero making a vessel lighten, even if it did not reach Faster Than Light travel, incredible speeds were still commercially available and feasible for transportation, he realized.
Somehow, he wasn't sure if that made the world smaller or larger.
They took a cab after that; a regular four-wheeled car that ran on the ground, but with a purely electric motor. Even as technology and progress marched on, old methods did not always fall away entirely. Apparently, in old cities such as these flight was relatively restricted, something about upholding a public image and maintaining the heritage sites, Cassani explained.
That, and there really wasn't space for vertical-take-off-and-landing parking anywhere.
Which meant, that just as they had in the 21st century, the streets of Barcelona were still jam-packed with cars and pedestrians. Time hadn't changed the city much, as the old buildings and streets had been preserved as faithfully as possible even if the make of vehicles and clothing had moved on, allowing the city to retain its spirit and mood through the passing of decades.
Having gotten most of the way already, Cassani suggested walking the rest of the way to see the sights after he noticed both of his companions' wandering gazes and they agreed, paying the fare and hopping out.
Cassani seemed right at home, navigating through the streets while chattering away, and while Emiya had been to old cities such as this many times, to Shepard it was obviously an entirely new experience.
Unlike many of the metropolises of the 22nd century, Barcelona was a very spread-out city thanks to its age. A lot of the time, they could see either the beach and sea, or many of the old churches and towering structures in the distance, as they continued walking.
There was little rubbish and refuse on the streets and what little grime existed seemed more like patina than anything else, giving the objects a certain refinement that had been lacking in Brazil.
Cassani reassured them that it was only a little further several times, but Emiya could tell he was taking a roundabout route where he could show off all the best sights. He tactfully did not say anything, choosing instead to maintain the relaxed mood and follow along.
It wasn't as if he was bothered by the sightseeing, particularly.
The mood among those walking around was relaxed and laid back, the warm sun and refreshing sea breeze keeping everyone outdoors in an energetic but serene mood, as it wasn't quite so hot that people grew lethargic and sought the refuge of shadows, thankfully. A side-effect of the sea winds probably. They passed street vendors and performers, both of which seemed like utterly alien concepts to Shepard as she gawked, tried out some of the local food in one of the parks, and looked at the various sculptures around as they kept walking.
Winged angels, prancing horses, beautiful women clad in flowing dresses of greys and white, chiseled bare-chested men with flawless bodies; all had been captured in stone with precision and skill that even Emiya could admire without hesitation or sarcasm. To Shepard, it must have seemed magical, as she tried out all the things they had bought and stared at all the marble statues.
She particularly enjoyed the jamón ibérico, a local style of cured ham, served in thin slices along with manchego cheese. She had to go back for seconds and thirds before they could pull her along to keep going.
After the long way around, they finally arrived at an old-looking apartment block. Built from grey stone, some six stories tall and with a thousand tales to tell just judging by the sounds of life and chaos they could hear from the steps.
Cassani grinned as he led the way inside. "Watch out for kids, they'll run right through your knee if you're not careful."
Shepard blinked at that, only for a troupe of six kids to vanish past them through the hallway, from one end to the other in two seconds flat. The sound of screeching and laughter echoed as they disappeared somewhere down the hall.
"Huh."
They continued up along the stairs—made out of wood and much narrower than in Brazil, with spun and spiraling wrought iron rails that Shepard looked at with rapt fascination—until they made it to the third floor. There, they made it to an old wooden door that looked like it was older than all of them combined, the dead-and-reborn years counted.
That was Emiya's honest and impressed appraisal of the oak door.
Superb work - the carpenter's love for the craft still shines through...
Cassani knocked on the door and stepped back. A long silent while passed until finally the door was opened with a soft creak of dry hinges.
Inside a wrinkled grumpy-looking little old lady stood, staring up at them through the haze of tobacco smoke, a smoking cigarette in her liver-spotted and gnarled hands.
She glanced at each of them before settling on Cassani.
"Franco. I should have guessed. Your mother still won't let you back home after running off to play soldier-boy?" she asked, raising an eyebrow as she took a long drag from her lit cigarette.
Cassani laughed lightly at that. "Ahahah, grandma, you know me so well. Mind if we stay here for a few days? Me and my friends are on leave and I wanted to show them the city!"
Between words, he peeked at Shepard and Emiya who were both raising an eyebrow at him. He didn't tell anyone we were coming over? Perfect. I don't know what I expected of him.
The grandmother sighed and began to close the door as she turned away, the wayward grandson leaping to put a foot in the door as he began to plead. "Grandmother, you can't just leave us out here!"
"It's warm this time of year. Find a park bench and hope the police don't come to bother you," she said curtly, taking her cane to prod at Cassani's foot, looking for his toes so that she could cause enough pain to make him pull it out.
"But, grandma... Look, we can't have a girl like her sleeping outside!" Cassani tried, this got the cane to stop. She opened the door again and peered at Shepard who suddenly seemed nervous at being the focus of the little old lady's attention.
"Uh... Hello?" She waved her hand, trying not to look away.
'Grandma' stared for several seconds, looking Shepard up and down as she squinted. Turning to her grandson, she asked, "Is she your girlfriend?"
Cassani blinked, licking his lips and hesitating for a moment.
She took this for all the answer she needed. "Good. She's too pretty for someone like you. Come in and close the door behind you."
He made a nervous little laughter at that, following her inside as he motioned for them to follow with a thumbs up. Neither looked impressed but they followed him in nonetheless.
;
Having found places to sleep and letting Cassani drop his stuff, they decided to get back onto the city streets again. Grandmother did not apparently care one whit, as she sat down by a recliner near a window and glared at anyone when they walked within her sight.
"Hey, don't you have... Anything else to wear?" Cassani asked, sheepishly looking at the two others.
He had taken off his dress uniform, getting on something more casual and light for the rest of the day, some sort of blue and white bodysuit with slight padding on the shoulders and flaring at the arms.
Shepard blinked, looking down at her dress uniform. It was a neat and presentable suit; all show and no comfort or practicality.
Looking at Emiya who hadn't changed out of his clothes either, she frowned.
"No?"
Cassani paused at that, opening his mouth as if he wanted to say something, but did not know where to begin.
"Shopping it is, then," Emiya cut in, shrugging with a shake of his head.
Shepard started at that. "Why? I thought these would be fine?" Motioning at their uniforms. "The instructors stressed being presentable."
It wasn't entirely clear if she understood that word yet, given her stressing on the odd syllable.
"We'll be the centers of attention wherever we go." Emiya countered and she couldn't disagree as she thought back. They had gotten a lot of looks on the way here.
"Fine. I guess."
Cassani nodded, satisfied, thinking for a moment before he led them outside.
"You guys should have plenty of cash, right? I mean I never see either of you buying anything. No sweets, no cigs, no apps or games or vids, nothing." Cassani asked as he led them away. Both merely shrugged at that, saying they didn't have anything they really wanted to ever buy. "Well, it's fine. Let's get you some clothes, there's a store nearby."
They entered a street boutique some blocks away, filled to the brim with colorful and light articles of clothing of all kinds. Shepard looked around with raised eyebrows, touching fabrics here and there as she became overwhelmed with the sheer selection presented to her.
Emiya simply found a simple pair of beige trousers and a light gray dress shirt, buying several pairs after a heated bit of haggling with the owner of the store, an older, balding man with a paunch.
"You've had these in stock for well over three years, no one is buying them from you old man. Just let me take them off of your hands to give space for something more popular. I'm practically doing you a favor here by giving 20 credits for the whole bunch," the redhead said, uncrossing his hands to tap the pile with the back of his hand dismissively.
"You wound me, sir! I have a family: a daughter going to law school, the first in our poor family - you cannot do this to me. Ah, ah... Martina, I can see the light at the end... 50 credits, I cannot go any lower, sir. Please..." The old shopkeeper seemed to swoon, and take support from a wall at the words, but strangely enough, Shepard could spot the small grins on both of their faces.
They're playing a game, aren't they? She realized, before going back to try and find something she could see herself wearing.
She continued to look around until finally, Emiya got the deal he wanted, coming back wearing the light trousers and the gray shirt. He had the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and the top buttons undone, letting him enjoy the warm day fully without fear of sweating overmuch.
On his feet, he had flip-flop sandals and in his arms, he had his uniform and other clothes folded neatly into a small bag. She blinked, noticing that he didn't look half bad.
"Huh, a little out of style, but you make it work. How much?" Cassani asked.
"25 credits for all of it, plus sandals and..." Emiya began, reaching for a pocket and whipping out a pair of sunglasses and putting them on with one hand, finishing with a lazy smirk while resting the other hand on his hip.
"Okay, that's pretty good. How about you Shepard? Found anything?" Cassani turned around and asked.
She made a nervous little laugh, not quite willing to tell she hadn't found anything yet. "No, uh... I don't think I like dresses very much."
The salesman had been pushing her into that section with great fervor, swooning when she tried to walk past him, complimenting how they would all look so great and beautiful on her. She wasn't sure if she was flattered or horrified, unable to argue back, even with her burgeoning sense for people's inner worlds.
"Huh? But it's the best season for them?" Cassani asked, looking out to the street where dozens of flowing skirts and dresses could be seen.
"It's just, I don't think they're very practical," she protested weakly, trying to find any excuse to wear the more familiar pants she had grown up with.
"That's not true," Emiya stated, far more firmly than either would have expected. They turned to look at him, blinking. "Skirts and dresses are very practical. Depending on the cut, of course. But that's true for all clothes, really."
Shepard raised an eyebrow at him as Cassani blinked some more.
"Mind... elaborating on that?" Cassani asked.
"Well, you can run and kick just fine in a dress. If you get wounded, you have plenty of good gauze and bandaging material on hand. Usually, the more costly fabrics work better for staunching a wound, too. If you're worried about it getting caught in things, mini-skirts work well too. Well, they show a little bit too much leg for my comfort, but each to their own." Emiya finished, still confident in his opinion.
Shepard and Cassani looked at each other, both knowing what the other was thinking, but too afraid to actually ask. Finally, Shepard decided to have the guts and just go for it.
"And this is from... personal experience?" She seemed unsure as to how to approach the subject.
"Not that there's anything wrong with that, mind," Cassani hastily added.
Emiya blinked, suddenly realizing what they were thinking, even as Shepard seemed to be intently looking at his waist and legs. She's imagining what I would look like in a mini-skirt, isn't she?
"Second-hand experience," he clarified, brows only slightly afurrow.
"Ooohhh..." Cassani nodded at that, not entirely convinced.
Shepard meanwhile was simply staring at him, considering his words carefully. She looked back at the rows and rows of clothing arrayed in the store, in all colors and cuts.
"So... dresses are practical?"
She was still skeptical, turning to look at him.
"Sure. I mean with tight-fitting clothes like these or those, it would be difficult to hide a weapon, for example." He nodded at his own apparel and Cassani before he continued. "With a long dress, you could hide an entire long gun underneath it. Or hell, strap a shotgun to one leg and an assault rifle to the other. Even tight dresses allow for small weapons to be hidden in easily reachable but difficult to casually notice places, allowing for some surprisingly dangerous moves," Emiya explained with a serious look, rubbing at a spot on his throat as if remembering an old scar.
"Personal... Experience?" Cassani asked again, peering at Emiya who seemed to realize again what he had just implied.
He cleared his throat, before looking away. "Second-hand experience."
Shepard shook her head. "Maybe later. I'll just get something comfortable for now."
Emiya shrugged, not entirely sure how they had gotten into this conversation in the first place now.
;
After the shopping trip, they had gone and thrown back their stuff and then set out again.
They had walked around the rest of the day until the sun began to dip and turn the vast sea into hues of gold and red.
At Cassani's behest, they had visited several more modern establishments, where the most advanced of omnitool and VI technology was being presented and sold, accompanied by dazzling advertisements and offers, using the opportunity to buy himself a new omnitool and managing to make Shepard consider it.
Emiya had declined, noting that he would use his until it broke down beyond his ability to repair.
Shepard called him frugal—though she needed his help to remember the exact word, after calling him fruit-all a few times—while Cassani just called him a miser. Afterward, at Shepard's request, they had walked around and tried the various stalls of street food once they got hungry, meandering around and looking at everything simply going on.
And finally, at Emiya's suggestion—as much from his own desire to see it, as imagining it would impress Shepard—they had visited several of the older sights in the city. The two others soon realized that he was quite impressed in particular with Antoni Gaudi's architecture after seeing the Sagrada Família up close. It was a massive basilica; a cathedral that had taken lifetimes to build. Gaudi had reportedly answered the question of what he thought about having designed a building that would not be completed in his lifetime, with 'my client is not in a hurry.'
At least that was what they were told by a local guide.
No matter the case, it had been declared a UNESCO world heritage site long ago and faithfully kept in good condition.
Shepard had thought the massive basilica quite overwhelming and even a bit haunting, but Emiya had enjoyed the tour both outside and inside so immensely that they decided to go see some of the famous architect's other works in the city.
Strangely enough to the other two, he also seemed rather interested in the clergymen there for a while as well, until all of his interest vanished after talking with them for a short while. They toured the city some more until they finally decided to head back.
"Tomorrow we could go to the beach, or even take a cable car to Montjuic. The castella are pretty cool, too."
As Cassani had taken a key with him, they didn't have to knock this time.
upon entering, they could smell a strange scent in the air. They walked in, finding Cassani's grandmother in the kitchen. She seemed to be preparing something, glancing up at them and giving them a nod and a grunt as a welcome.
"Ah, do you need help, grandmother?" Cassani asked as he leaned around the corner into the kitchen as if he was afraid of actually entering without permission.
"Set the table. You're not good for much else."
Emiya looked in, considering the kitchen for a moment. Not saying anything, he simply looked on with crossed arms and furrowed brows.
She looked up, brandishing a knife at him as she shooed at him with the flat of the blade. "Go somewhere else, you big lug. Dinner will be ready when dinner is ready."
"May I assist? I'm not entirely unfamiliar with seafood," Emiya answered, ignoring the blade as he lowered his arms.
She merely frowned at him, before shooing him away again with her knife. "Away with you."
Cassani leaned in, nodding at his grandmother. "She doesn't have an omnitool. So no translator, you know."
Shepard who had been sitting by the table to try and stay out of the way blinked at that. "So she hasn't understood a word we've said since we showed up?"
"It's fine, it's fine. She doesn't much care about other people." Cassani reassured her as he began to set down some glasses on the table.
Emiya considered that, before shrugging. "Can I help? Handle squid well. Pardon, I do not speak any Catalan."
She looked up at him, putting down the knife as she walked up to take a closer look at him. Under the glare—or perhaps over the glare, as she barely came to his chest in height—Emiya did not flinch as he waited for her answer. Finally, after ten seconds of scowling, she nodded at him to come into the kitchen and shooed him at the knife she had been using before.
"You speak Spanish?" Cassani asked, looking both impressed and confused.
Emiya smirked as he took up the knife and looked back. "Just a little. And yes, I understood most of what you said in the showers then, when you thought I wasn't wearing an omnitool for translation."
Cassani laughed nervously at that. "A joke, man. I didn't really mean it—It was Rodriguez who started it, anyway!"
"Your mouth still writes checks it can't cash, Franco." Grandmother said, scowling at him again and he seemed to wilt at that.
Shepard laughed at that and Emiya had an amused glint in his eyes as he began to prepare dinner. He noted the knife's condition before he began to cut. Even after a break of over a century from cooking, it all came back when he wanted it to.
He smiled again as he began to cut.
;
Overall it was a pleasant and simple fare.
Afterward, for dessert Cassani had run outside to get some warm churros, swearing by them with chocolate dip.
As Cassani's grandmother settled for the night after telling them to keep it quiet, Emiya considered whether he should go shopping tomorrow. If he bought more foodstuffs, he could probably try out the new and interesting cuisines he had run into recently as well.
"I didn't know you could cook," Shepard noted as she helped clear away the last of the dishes from the table.
"Why not? Food is the cornerstone of a healthy life, after all," Emiya answered as he loaded up the dish-washing machine, receiving the dirty plates from her.
"Well, I just..." She hesitated.
"No, I'm curious about that, too. You were like... Skin and bones when you first showed up. Normally you wouldn't think someone like that had a chance to learn how to cook. No offense or anything." Cassani butted in.
Emiya started at that, straightening up as he looked at them with narrowed eyes.
Cassani pulled back, raising his hands. "Sorry, I didn't mean to..."
"No, it's..." Emiya looked away. Then, as if considering how to admit it, he spoke; "I just forgot. I wasn't always on the streets."
Shepard looked up at that before nodding as she looked away. "Sometimes I forget, too. The Navy just... drowns you in itself and becomes you in a way, so much that you forget about everything else after a while."
"Huh, I guess it does do that," Cassani added his bit to the conversation. "The immersion and insulation is pretty deep. I guess that's why they don't let us out until the end of basic, to make sure we're at least mostly trained before they let us out of sight. Hell, I changed my clothes earlier and automatically tucked my shirt in my pants like regulation says, without even thinking about it. That was kind of scary..."
Emiya sighed, drying his hands.
This topic was getting too heavy and it was straying into a direction he did not like. He had been revealing a little too much for comfort again today, now that he thought about it.
"I was thinking about going shopping tomorrow for some more foodstuffs and trying to make something more. Would your grandmother object to something like that? I don't mean to take over the kitchen, or anything."
"Huh? Nah, as long as she gets decent food and you clean up after yourself, she's fine with just sitting by in her chair and smoking all day."
"Hmm, well then, I'll ask her tomorrow just to be sure," Emiya confirmed.
"Shouldn't we be going to bed soon? It's getting pretty dark already..." Shepard asked, looking out through the open window.
Cassani shook his head. "Not unless you want to deal with jet lag. We're a couple of hours ahead in time, so we should be really waking up at noon tomorrow, to keep the rhythm."
Shepard blinked at that, before realizing what he meant. "Oh, right. Timezones. So what are we gonna do now, then?"
"We could go clubbing?" Cassani suggested, grinning widely.
"Eh..." Shepard protested, not at all feeling enthusiastic about that.
"Come one, we could go dancing and have a good time, show the ladies how we dance, eh Emiya?" Cassani tried to find some support in his fellow male, who was nursing a cup of tea now.
"I don't dance." But Emiya's statement cut that in the bud. "I think I'll just settle down and read for the evening. The moon is looking quite pleasant, tonight."
Shepard blinked, looking out the window and noting the pale orb in the sky just rising for the night. Somehow, Emiya's gaze seemed peaceful and conflicted at the same time. She hesitated, wondering if she could bring up Mars and try again...
No, I can't do that. But maybe they won't let him go, either. Then we could... What am I thinking? She shook her head.
"I guess I'll lie down. Not feeling like anything right now. Good night, both of you," Shepard said, standing up to leave. Emiya looked up and made eye contact with her, before nodding.
"Good night."
;
Emiya inhaled slowly.
Usually, he took off his omnitool before going to bed, but for now, he would need it. He wasn't sure what would happen once he went back to base, but it was good to prepare for the eventuality that things might not go his way upon returning.
He closed his eyes as he began to focus.
Within the hedge mage circles and among the freelancers in the moonlit world had existed many tricks and useful cantrips that had been shared and sold around for anyone with the connections or coin for it.
One of those was a method for dispersing your consciousness, to fall into a deep sleep that was very near a coma. Favored among those who often visited battlefields, it was a good method for relieving mental stress quickly and getting back into the fighting. The usual was that one could stay up for thirty or so hours and then fall unconscious for two and wake up mostly functional and continue for another thirty.
Of course, it did have its downsides.
It did nothing to physical exhaustion, beyond the two hours rest itself, and during this state, one could not be woken up at all, leaving the user rather vulnerable. But many who operated between the two worlds still favored it, using shifts and allowing them to maintain vigilance while a portion of a group or squad rested.
Emiya had rarely had a need for such techniques before, though.
His sleep had always been strange, ever since the fire that had swallowed his childhood. He did not dream, so much as he remembered things from his past or visited that realm within himself. If he wanted to sleep for just two hours and function mostly fine the next day, then he would simply sleep for two hours and wake up the next day when he needed to.
His usual day, even before setting out on his foolish quest, had been one that allowed very little sleep. He would train his magic for several hours after it got dark, often well past midnight. Then, each and every morning, he would wake up at sunrise to make breakfast.
Such a rest cycle often left him with less than five hours of sleep every night, yet it never seemed to slow him down much.
There wasn't even a need for an alarm clock; it was simply a matter of acknowledging that he had to wake up at a certain time before he went to sleep and the rest took care of itself. Emiya felt that there was a certain weakness; a degeneracy to relying on such things, actually. And all of that wasn't even getting into his current self as a Heroic Spirit who categorically did not require sleep.
But right now, he would be doing something a little different.
Usually, during his time in training, he would let himself fall either unconscious or perform breathing techniques for the whole night, making sure to take off his omnitool in case it kept unwanted records of his nightly activities.
Now, however, that was exactly what he wanted it to do. He had looked into it and he was fairly certain that their omnitools did in fact keep a constant record of their biometrics. Which sort of negates the necessity of the urine test they threatened us with, he thought as he began to feel himself falling into an unconsciousness that resembled sleep.
Two hours passed and he began to feel his conscious mind returning.
He began to control his breathing, subtly and slowly raising it. He began to heat up his body, raise his heart rate, and slowly his blood pressure as well. Breath intensifying, becoming deeper. He raised it to levels where his body was sweating as if he was running for his life.
Then he gasped, kicking off the blanket and jumping out of bed as he struggled for breath.
His bed was soaked. His heart was hammering so powerfully that he could feel it all the way in his head. His eyes felt like they were covered in sand and the sound of rushing water was in his ears. Without using the actual effective methods through breathing control, he slowly calmed himself down, until he took off the omnitool.
Night one, three more to go. He thought as he got up and went to take a shower. He would also wash the sweat-stained bed sheets tomorrow; it was the least he could do after doing all this. And while he was at it, he might as well clean up the place while he was up.
There was a trick to cleaning new places; you didn't want to affect anything that could annoy the owners, so you had to sort of read how everything was organized and understand the person.
It was actually rather similar to his Structural Analysis, in a sense.
You could tell a lot about a person through their room. Even more, if you could see their entire home. Cassani's grandmother was certainly a little grouchy, but going by the pictures adorning each wall of the house, it was obvious she had lived a long and happy life and was proud of her many children and relatives. He guessed her annoyance mostly stemmed from her weakening body and inability to continue living as she had before, along with the fact that most of her offspring seemed too busy to visit her.
Which meant he ought to be subtle about his housework.
She took pride in it, he reasoned. He could do that. Keep her from realizing until days after they left that someone had cleaned. Walking along the steps others tread while understanding and respecting their work, was something of a specialty of his, after all.
"Might as well go buy some foodstuffs for breakfast later as well. Or lunch, as it will be." He nodded to himself.
Time seemed to go by in a blur, as he handled everything he set out to do in a quiet manner. His old home had been an old Japanese manor with its own quirks, so he enjoyed learning about other old households. They each had their own charms and challenges as well, which made for interesting work. Each floorboard made a different sound, each doorway leaned a little different, and each piece of furniture was set a certain way.
Before he knew it, dawn came and he was offering breakfast to Cassani's grandmother. She frowned at him but did not complain about the food he presented her.
A few hours later, Shepard woke up and Cassani soon followed after.
"Heya, good morning, or rather noon—Whoa, who made breakfast? Or is that lunch? Brunch?" Cassani asked as he entered the dining room.
"Guess," Shepard replied, looking up as she munched on some baby squid with fried eggs. She had been skeptical about it at first, but now she had to admit it was delicious.
"Sit down. There's fresh orange juice and food. I went for a walk, so I borrowed your key. I hope you don't mind. It's by the table there," Emiya said, popping his head around the corner from the kitchen.
"Uh... No problem. Didn't even hear you," Cassani replied, blinking.
Shepard huffed. "Well, I sure heard you. You snore like a truck."
"Heheh, sorry about that." Cassani grinned in a manner that told them he was anything but.
"I was thinking about taking another trip to the Sagrada Família. And to check out some of the other Gaudi sites," Emiya said.
"Huh, again? What about the beach? Or taking the cable cars?" Cassani whined.
Emiya shrugged. "Maybe later. You can go without me if you want."
"We can go to the cathedral again, sure," Shepard answered before Cassani could ask her.
The dishwashing redhead hesitated. "...Are you sure you don't want to go to the beach? It's pretty nice."
"Eh, it's fine. The beach can wait, you won't." She shrugged.
He licked his lips then, as Cassani looked at the two not quite following the conversation. He threw up his hands, shaking his head, and muttered something about going to the tech-store himself alone, then.
"Alright. Let's go after I finish up, then." Emiya compromised and Shepard smirked at him. He figured he might as well do as she wanted, even if her attempts at subterfuge were paper thin.
He'd be gone soon enough, anyhow.
;
"So are you Christian?"
Emiya looked down at Shepard.
He had been admiring the vaulted ceiling of the church they had found. Each stone here told him a story and a lifetime. It was actually rather fascinating, as most of his progress in the field of magic had come from trying to understand and recreate past weapons and feats the way he was now doing to these structures and stones. By the time he had really gotten good at it, he had become too infamous to really freely walk through places like this.
Certainly, he found an occasional statue or piece of wall in the deserts, but given that those who he had been fighting at the time had often been going around and smashing such things, he rarely had the time to fully analyze or look into them properly.
"Kurisu-chan? No."
"Huh?"
"Old joke, never mind - it was never funny." He shook his head, with a small grin. "To answer your question: not really. I had some... acquaintances who were Catholic, however," Emiya replied as he turned to look at the hooded sisters walking down the street, some dozens of meters away.
"Were you close?" she asked, tilting her head at him.
He hesitated, before sighing.
"With a few, sure. But mostly I worked together with some of them and... fought occasionally. I wasn't really friends with most of them," he admitted.
"Tell me about them?"
Emiya looked at her then. Was there any harm in telling her? It had been from his life. His 'first' life that was long gone and should have remained buried and forgotten. But then, he could just keep it vague enough that it wouldn't matter.
"I had a friend and mentor who was Christian, but she was more of the 'I'll appear faithful when it's useful'-type, than a true believer. The only thing she really believed in was money and personal ability, I think."
Shepard blinked. "She almost sounds like a gangster to me."
Emiya huffed, letting a small smirk adorn his face. "That's not too far off the mark. We didn't stick together for long. A fundamental difference of values, I think, so we parted ways rather early on."
"Difference of values?" Shepard repeated, not quite sure what he meant.
Emiya crossed one arm, holding the other palm up in a rolling gesture. "She said she believed in ruthlessly winning by any means necessary, even as there was a contradictory kinder side to her. While I'm something of a pacifist. So we would have arguments and we eventually parted without ever reconciling those differences."
Shepard laughed at that, ignoring his look.
Considering all that they had done, there seemed to be a rather poignant irony in him calling himself a pacifist.
"Do you miss her?" Shepard asked, seeing and hearing the fondness as he spoke.
"Hmm. Who knows. I hadn't thought about her in... forever, so I can't honestly say I do anymore. But I do sometimes think back on those times rather fondly, though not it can't be attributed to her presence there alone." He turned to look at her. "How about you? Any friends you left behind?"
She blinked at that. "Uh, not really. I didn't mean to pry..."
"Heh, as long as you realize you're doing it."
Shepard grinned at that, as they continued walking.
They went through narrow streets and wide-open plazas, trying out the street foods, comparing the tapas and jamón from this vendor and that stall, debating the merits of each.
"The second was a rather curious man. I still don't think I fully get him, but if pressed to say what I thought of him, I would say that I despised him as much as I found him fascinating. He was also the earlier friend's guardian, due to some deaths in the family. A rather sordid affair, that."
Shepard blinked and paused, before realizing Emiya was continuing where they had left off earlier. She hurried to keep pace with him, wanting to keep listening.
"I ended up having a fistfight with the guy at one point. Never saw him after that." Emiya continued, making sure that what he said was technically true, at least. "Well, some months later his daughter showed up and started hounding me. Prickly one that."
"Another girl?" Shepard asked, frowning at him.
"Hmm? Yeah, his daughter, as I said," he replied, blinking at her.
"Never mind. What was she like?"
"A real weirdo. A sadist and masochist all in one: a heart of gold but with a tongue like a thorned whip. Just like her father, she enjoyed needling people with their deepest darkest thoughts, though the motivations between them were vastly different, I think. He just enjoyed making people squirm." Emiya shook his head, smiling ruefully. "We didn't spend a lot of time together, but it was still something of a friendship. I think she saw me as a lost cause, but still wanted to do something about me."
He shrugged.
"This is really starting to sound more and more like a big mobster family, the more I hear."
Emiya grinned. "It wasn't. But the woman who looked after me during all this was the daughter of a mob boss, now that I think about it."
Shepard whirled at him, stumbling on a step.
"I used to repair things for them, whenever they'd bring it in," he continued, glossing over the admission as if it hadn't been anything noteworthy. "Practically fed her every day for a decade, too..."
"Hard to see you as some errand boy for a gang..." Shepard muttered, catching up to him, even if it did seem to explain a lot of his peculiar skills.
They continued walking, making it to the boardwalk adjacent to the beach. Neither had bothered to acquire any swimwear, so they simply sat down in the shade beneath a tree and looked out.
"Huh, looks way different than I remember," she said.
"Yeah, the sea is everywhere, but it's always different." Emiya mused. "I wonder if space is like that, too."
Shepard looked at Emiya again, frowning at what he said. He would keep dropping hints like that; that he had seen many seas before. But that didn't really make any sense, given who he was. Who she distinctly remembered seeing the first time and who he had been dropping hints at being before.
Was he lying to her? No, she couldn't believe that. And he hadn't - somehow she just knew. But she realized he wasn't telling her the whole truth... But even so, she hesitated. Could she really just ask, if he wasn't telling her? It felt like he was hesitant to share even the smallest tidbit about himself and that he was only doing it because it was her.
And she didn't want to risk that fragile thing.
She sighed, shaking her head and looking back out at the sea. She just had to accept that he was mysterious like that.
"There was one more, but that was mostly a working relationship."
"Hmm?" Shepard looked up.
"Then again, I guess she was my last friend all things considered." He made a little laugh at that, yet it didn't sound happy. Not at all. More like grimly amused. She didn't like the sound of him, then.
"...Last friend?" she asked, not sure if she wanted to hear more.
"Mm, most others left me before that. She was really the last honest friend I had. She was an extreme, like that. In a lot of other ways, too. She was something of a... missionary. Traveling the world and solving problems wherever she went. She really liked some of the food I'd made, too. She said I made the best curry she had tasted in ten years." He shook his head.
He remembered a red shroud, something he had received a long time ago.
'You may be a gullible fool, Shirou... But, that's not a bad thing really. The world could use more people like you, to be honest. Well, they tend to die for a reason. I hope this will stave off that for a few more years, at least. Wear it while remembering who you are, always.'
Emiya huffed at that memory. She had loved to lecture him, treating him as something like an underclassman and showing him the ropes when they worked together.
"Sorry, didn't mean to talk about inane things. Just airing my thoughts, a little."
"No, it's fine. I don't mind," she replied quickly. "It's interesting, actually."
"Hmph, well I'm glad my life is that if nothing else," he faux-groused, standing up and dusting his pants off, letting one closed fist rest against his waist. "Let's head back. We can loop around by the open markets before they close down for the day and get something to eat for tonight."
"Sure. Wanna race?" she asked, raising a challenging eyebrow at him from the sand.
He huffed in amusement, shrugging at her in defeat.
"The stand with the chocolate dip churros?"
She nodded and he took that as his starting signal, dashing off before she could even get to her feet. Behind him, he could hear her shouting about him cheating.
;
Before they knew it, leave came to an end.
They did just about everything they could think of doing, taking the time to visit the castella on Montjuic and returning to the boardwalk to lie around on the beach. None of them had bought swimsuits, so they didn't actually go swimming. Emiya had suggested teaching Shepard how to swim, but she had apparently already known how to already.
Something of a surprise, that.
But even with Cassani's insistence, none had felt like going to buy swimwear and taking a dip.
But though four days was a long leave on paper, in practice the days seemed to go by in a blur. Emiya visited several of the churches in Barcelona, making a point to take routes that would take them by various food vendors, open-air markets, and other notable locations as they made the circuits. They tried out all the dishes they could find, blowing a month's wages on nothing but food in just four days.
Cassani's grandmother glared at Emiya once she realized he had been doing far more than she had realized at the house but had found nothing to complain about, so ultimately she hadn't made a fuss about it. Cassani himself had gone over to talk to some of his relatives, leaving them for the third day alone to relax again.
Still, on the fourth day, they began to prepare for their return to base.
By six in the evening—base time—they had returned and reported in. After that, they still had some free time left for the evening, so they settled back into routine and waited for the day to end.
As more and more people trickled in, it became somewhat obvious that not all had listened much if at all to what the NCOs had been saying. Many looked quite hungover, others still swayed in their steps as they settled down in their bunks. More than one had apparently smuggled in pizza in their pockets and packs, slowly and silently suffering as they ate away at the cold and greasy food.
Tomorrow, according to schedule, they would be beginning to conduct interviews and processing where everyone would be going afterward. They had already filled some quizzes before the final exercise, but those were mostly general questionnaires rather than anything binding.
But Emiya guessed a good portion of that might be pushed back for doling out punishments for those who had obviously been having a little bit too much fun on their first leave. Rumor had it that the Military Police had had to pick up more than one recruit from some local jail around the planet.
Emiya actually felt it was the brass' fault, for letting everyone out so soon.
Letting them out into the wild immediately after the Shanxi exercise was just asking for this kind of chaos. Drained and tired from the fighting, any and all thoughts of restraint would be so weakened that the results were obvious, really. He would have liked to say that it wasn't his problem, but given that he would be standing in formation while someone shouted at them for an hour tomorrow, he knew that wasn't exactly true.
Well, hopefully, it would not push back the other schedules too much. Then again, the longer he had to wait for his interviews, the more he could pile up his 'sleepless nights' to use. Hopefully, he would not have to, but he had no faith in that right now.
The system was based on a credit system where you could apply for different lines. The higher your credit, the higher priority you received for that line. This was to keep recruits motivated so that in theory the best suited and interested could apply for the positions they were most needed in. In theory, nothing should have prevented Emiya from getting to Mars just as he wanted, but he still had his doubts.
Which was why he was once again waking up, covered in sweat and panting as he rolled out of bed. He had repeated his two hours of troubled sleep-trick every night and so far nothing had gone wrong.
He breathed heavily, enjoying the cool floor as his burning body slowly calmed down. His head pounded in sync with his heart, and he felt as if blood would pour out of his eyes and ears any minute now. This time I went a little bit too far...
He glanced at the omnitool on his wrist; it was his trump card once things came to a head.
Replicating the physical effects of those nights back when he was still a child and vividly remembered the fire, waking up in a fit of terror with a breathless scream stuck in his throat, wasn't entirely too difficult. Back then, waking up in the middle of the night, he would seek out his adopted father and ask to share some of his medicines, as he too had nearly always been awake, racked by pains of his own.
They'd sat and talked in the middle of the night, staring up at the moon often in silent hours.
What would his father think of him today?
"...Emiya?"
He looked up, cursing in his mind as he stood us, attempting to look as if nothing was amiss. He had thought he had been quiet enough. Back in Barcelona, no one had noticed a thing, but they hadn't been sleeping quite so close there.
"Sorry, Shepard. Didn't mean to wake you."
She sat up, staring at him with furrowed brows. Even in the darkness, it was obvious that he was soaking wet from sweat.
"Are you okay?" she finally asked, getting out of her bunk. Before he could say anything, she placed a hand on his forehead, he could see a frown on her face. "...You're burning up."
"Yeah, just woke up. It's fine. I'll go take a shower and then go back to sleep. You don't worry about me." Emiya said, standing up straight and exhaling slowly. He felt woozy, but that was to be expected after what he had just done again.
It would pass.
He turned to his locker and began to take out the things he would need, while Shepard peered at him in the dark. As he turned to leave...
"Emiya."
He paused. Inhaling slowly, he turned around to look at her with his most relaxed and reassuring expression. "Don't worry, I'm fine."
"...I—Okay," she whispered after a moment.
"Alright," Emiya said, leaving.
For a moment there, he wondered what he would have said if she hadn't hesitated at the last moment and pressed him for answers.
;
Emiya let the recruit walk past him, noting the smile on his face as he walked out. Obviously, he had gotten the posting he had wanted without a fuss.
He hoped he would have similar luck.
"Next!"
Hearing the shout from inside, he walked in. He was the next in line and all. Closing the door behind him he walked up and saluted those in the room, before settling at-attention before the desk. Four of the instructors sat there, all looking through various files on their omnitools and datapads.
"Serviceman Emiya, good to see you. Have a seat," one of them offered and Emiya obliged.
It seemed like a courtesy, but he found it amusing how the desk hid that they were sitting on taller chairs than he was. It would make them seem taller than him. With this, he would be sitting alone in a bare room and looking at four people who all had been ordering him around for the entirety of his stay at basic. For most recruits, facing a situation like this when they had mostly been with one or two instructors at a time and often hidden in a group, it would be a rather nerve-wracking experience.
The constant power play tactics were beginning to grow a bit annoying, Emiya felt.
In theory, he was allowed to choose where he would serve as his next posting, but it remained to be seen what practice was.
"Well then, it says here that you want to apply for..." the female instructor who had been the one teaching them trigger discipline and walking around with guns said, as she looked up at him. "The General Technician vocational line over at Mars..."
"Haha, I'm sure we can cross that over for now. I'm sure you've re-considered your prospects since then. It is fine and good to be humble. But to underplay your own ability is no good either. After all, with your invitation to the N-school, all of this is just a formality—"
"Actually sir, I'd still like to apply for the G-line." Emiya cut in, keeping his voice neutral, injecting just a touch of nervousness.
The room went silent, as all four instructors blinked at him and then looked at each other.
They hesitated for only a moment before continuing.
"I'm afraid that is not possible, Serviceman. With your performance report and the recommendation of the N-school recruiter, at this point in time, you will be going to the Villa. Having someone of your talent and ability apply for Mars of all places? No, that would simply be impossible." The oldest among them, who had mostly remained as a technical instructor spoke. "Looking at what you achieved in a few hours in Brazil, seeing your resourcefulness and outside-the-box thinking, we could not in good faith let you go to waste at such a place as Mars."
Emiya kept his face carefully controlled, even as he mentally sighed.
As expected. You want to play? Fine, let's play.
"But sir, I do not want to go to N-school. I've wanted to go to Mars since I first enlisted." Emiya objected, keeping it just a tad above a whine.
"It is admirable that you knew from the beginning what you wanted to do, but I do not see any reason for the Navy to throw away a man of your capabilities on such a pointless posting."
Emiya gave his final objection. "But sir, on the enlistment contract the method was outlined as per page—"
"I am aware of the contract, however as per paragraph two-hundred thirty-six, sub-section three, when the special forces are concerned, the general enlistment protocols are exchanged for contract six-C standards, which was stipulated in your contract," he continued, overruling Emiya's attempt at an objection.
Emiya hadn't actually known that, since he hadn't been able to read all the fine print documents after the first level of the attached documents.
It wasn't a matter of him not being given access to it, but simply the fact that they threw so much paperwork at him that he hadn't even been aware of the possibility, not unless he had been willing to spend all of his free time rummaging through the texts.
The enlistment contract was not simply a single piece of paper: it was an incredibly dense and well-packed network of documents and attaches, of which it would be impossible to gain an understanding in such short order. Especially without a background in law. And that was exactly how organizations like this operated. With enough bureaucracy, red tape and filibustering, they could always get what they wanted, since they got to set all the rules for the 'engagement'.
And with centuries of time, Earth's militaries had no doubt refined and honed their practices until there was nothing an individual could do about it.
In fact, he felt that this was a perfect showcase of how blue teams and red teams respectively functioned, mentality-wise. The concept was at this point rather old, but in his time it had been the modern standard for conflicting doctrines.
As the blue team, the Alliance Navy was a massive organization, thus it had the money, manpower, and time to prepare for almost every eventuality before it even happened. Such as this, where a promising recruit felt less than giddy about being railroaded into serving in the special forces, especially after they had already invested so much into training and conditioning him.
To that end, they would first barrage him with legalese and dubious consequences as the stick, using the fear of the unknown to great effect, after which the carrot would be presented. The many advantages and benefits he would enjoy if he simply accepted, that it would be easier for him to quit once in the N-line rather than trying it now, that he could discuss the specifics once he got there as they simply did not have the authority to change anything anymore.
Certainly, the Navy did not want truly unwilling participants serving in critical positions, but so long as he at least tried the next step, they would have won the first battle. And if he went in and then failed to meet the standards later on that was another thing entirely.
For the four instructors in front of him, that wasn't their problem; it was the problem of whoever had to deal with Emiya there down the line, another specialist specifically prepared for the job. That was the power of manpower, where experts could handle almost every eventuality at the junction assigned to them.
The paperwork had all been readied for these kinds of events decades prior; the instructors knew how to handle these kinds of objections and had been trained for them; the system was in place to swallow up the individual and turn them into a useful part of itself - into just another cog that would fall into place.
But that did not mean that he as the red team could not win.
As an individual, he had many advantages that they lacked.
He could adapt quickly and freely, without having to worry about being bound down by other things, allowing him to pivot entirely on a whim. He could plan and enact tactics that they could not, unbound by the preponderous momentum of an entire system behind him. He did not have to worry about his plans and methods being leaked, while he could freely read up on how the Alliance Navy strong-armed enlisted personnel.
They could not do the same to him.
"I—I wasn't told about this...!"
He added a little crack to his voice, intentionally forgetting the 'sir' he had been careful to never miss out on using before, as he began to increase his breathing, raising the oxygen saturation in his blood. They already had him cornered as far as the situation went. But that was fine; he still had arrows left in his quiver. At first, he wouldn't feel a thing...
"If you wish to contact a military lawyer to consult about this, it can be arranged," The female instructor cut in, attempting to sound soothing. But Emiya knew that would achieve nothing. As long as he played by their rules, he would lose.
Placate.
"But I think you should think this over, Serviceman. Getting a crack at the N-school is a great honor. In fact, I think we could arrange for you to be assigned directly under Lieutenant Commander Burnsfeldt since you have shown such a great interest in tech," The oldest instructor spoke again, tapping at his omnitool.
Negotiate.
"Yes, that would be similar enough to the G-line, wouldn't it? Only, with better pay, better healthcare, and advancement options. Humanity honestly needs people like you. You've the potential to go far and the Alliance would certainly help you with anything you want to accomplish along the way. With just ten years of service, you could—"
Distract.
They had all the tactics down for this game. So that meant he shouldn't be playing it at all; he should simply flip the table and change the game entirely. Just as he couldn't play a game of one versus four with two bottlenecks, he couldn't win by conforming to their battlefield.
He had to be the wave of change and ride it over their attempts.
Distantly, he noted he could feel the pins-and-needles-sensation in his legs and hands, and the cramping starting in the pit of his stomach. It was time to act.
Hypocapnia was nigh.
"No! No! I can't... I can't go back! I—" He stood up, jerking right up as he shouted and tensing all of his muscles to spike his blood pressure. Combined with his heightened blood oxygen levels, the effects were immediate.
He blacked out instantly.
Or well, his brain did anyhow. Somewhere inside, he still felt his consciousness existing and keeping track of everything going on around him.
It wasn't like sleeping, where his attention was turned elsewhere as the brain handled and organized the information gathered during the day. This was more like having a hood placed over his head, muffling all of his senses, but not actually removing them.
He hadn't ever personally done anything like it, but he had occasionally seen some of his schoolmates try to get an rush through hyperventilation, calling it the fainting game. By crouching down and breathing rapidly for thirty seconds and then suddenly rising up quickly, the level of carbon dioxide in their blood would fall so low that the brain could not get enough oxygen, which resulted in dizziness, tingling sensations or even a blackout.
This happened due to the elevated affinity of oxygen to hemoglobin, the Bohr effect.
The trick was to make it seem natural, hence his shaken up and angry act.
"Serviceman!" one of the instructors shouted, getting up from their chair. "Serviceman! What is the meaning of..."
Someone rushed to his side, raising him up as he had fallen over. They touched his face, opening his eyelids to look at his pupils. A rather strange sensation and he made sure to keep his eyes from moving.
"Get him to the doctor! Right now!"
He was carried on a stretcher and he could roughly guess where they were going, even through the haze of his brain slowly waking up. He'd gone there before when he had gone to get Shepard that ice pack. They were heading for the infirmary.
They laid him on a bed and another person began to touch his wrist and neck, taking scans with an omnitool before turning around to talk to someone else, some meters away from where Emiya had been lain down.
"It was just hyperventilation. A panic attack, I think," a new voice said, one which Emiya recognized as the base doctor as the rest of his senses began to return slowly to normal.
Blackouts like this usually did not last long, as natural breathing restored the blood's carbon dioxide back to natural levels, allowing the brain to recover. But the waves of strangeness it involved could be quite disconcerting, including uncontrollable shaking and lacking motor control in limbs.
"What exactly happened?"
"We were in the middle of conducting the interviews when he suddenly became erratic and then stood up, before falling over. I don't know what happened." One of the instructors responded. It appeared more than one was present, as they made their murmurs of assent known.
"Well, that's unusual. What were you talking about?"
"We were merely discussing his prospects for joining the N-school. He was objecting, but we didn't think it was anything serious..."
The doctor made a sound of understanding and the sound of an omnitool being turned on was faintly audible. "Hmm, well, I'll just take a look at his biometric outputs in the last..."
The doctor went silent, as there was a pregnant pause. Then suddenly, his fingers began to move like crazy as he began to investigate what he was seeing on his omnitool more thoroughly.
"What exactly have you been making this recruit do?" he ground out suddenly, with a vehemence that made even the instructors take a step back.
"We have not—What are you talking about?"
"What am I talking about? His records are all over the place! Look at this! He hasn't slept for more than seven hours in the past five days! He's been suffering panic attacks every night! What the hell have you made him do?!"
"But... But, the recruits were on leave, we haven't..." Someone tried to protest.
"Shit... The Shanxi exercise?"
"But he did so well? I saw the footage."
"That doesn't mean he couldn't have taken it poorly."
"Poorly is putting it lightly. For God's sake, the man has nearly been going into cardiac arrest every night for several days in a row, now!" The doctor spoke in a tone of voice that was close to a growl. "I don't know what the hell you have been doing, but I will be making a note of this in the reports. I have seen thousands of recruits through basic and I've never once seen anything like this before!"
"Well, that's..."
"And I will be taking him off all combat rosters for the foreseeable future, effective immediately. This man should be seeing a therapist, not being heckled to join the special forces of all places! Do you people have nothing inside those heads of yours or are they there just to hold the jars you call helmets?! Well?"
Emiya almost smirked then as the doctor continued to chew them all out, loudly, for the next ten minutes.
He had given them the possibility of letting him go to Mars, twice. But they had played themselves into this mess. The doctor's word would weigh heavily against them: giving a promising recruit PTSD was not something anyone would want on their record.
Especially someone who had been seemingly slated for N-school, days prior.
Check and mate - to Mars I go.
;
MAJOR KUDOS to PseudoSteak & shadyxlr & Zantakio & Tactical Tunic & Tisaku for proofreading and helping out.