Dog Days // Sheith

Chapter One: Dog Days

Dog Days:

The hottest period of the yearA period of inactivity or decline

The Galra had arrived on Earth thirty years ago. The whole world had watched the first contact, their leaders trying to teach aliens what a handshake was.

Some people were scared. Some people thought they were holy. Some people even thought the tall, humanoid creatures were cute .

Everyone was curious.

The Galra had told the world that they were galactic explorers, searching the universe for new life forms, eager to pass on their knowledge. They came in peace. They wanted to help us jumpstart our civilization into the future. We believed them, and over ten years, the Galra became more and more integrated into society. They became teachers, doctors. Their children attended school with human children. The world trusted them.

And then the war ships appeared in the sky, and the war began.

****

The dry heat was stifling, the truck's A/C working overtime to combat it barely making a difference. It was the equivalent of having someone gently blow on your face. Shiro's leg was bouncing non-stop, his forehead pressed to the window as he watched the quiet streets of Heiress roll past. It was way too hot for the town's some-two thousand residents to be doing anything other than sitting directly in front of a fan in the privacy of their own homes.

Heiress was a militant town which had sprung up roughly twenty years ago around the Garrison facility out in the middle of the California desert. From the main strip of the town, you could see the looming buildings of the facility, wavering in the heat.

Shiro hadn't been born here, but he had gone to the high school here before enlisting in the Garrison program, and now he was back after only a year on duty.

The truck rolled out of Heiress without ceremony, Shiro's view turning into the endless desert and baked rock, sparse shrubbery. No forms of life in sight until they drove through the Garrison's front gate, but even the grounds weren't exactly humming with activity; it was summer break for a few more days, only the cadets whose homes were far away from Heiress were around, and the necessary staff members to keep the place ticking over. It wasn't just a training facility. Research happened here, and a ways away from the main complex was a detention centre.

Shiro was let out of the truck near the entrance of the main building, swinging the strap of his duffel bag over his shoulder and wiping the back of his hand across his brow. He was being met by Commander Iverson, director of training, in person.

"Shirogane- welcome back." The formality of saluting was foregone for a handshake instead, and then commander used a swipe card to open the door and lead them into the blessed industry standard air conditioning, the temperature nearly arctic in comparison. "How was the flight in?"

Shiro made a face, mostly at the back of the commander's head as he recalled the flight from Los Angeles into Heiress' tiny airport.

"Well, you would think after space travel, an aeroplane wouldn't bother me much, but those pencil planes just don't seem sturdy enough."

The commander barked a laugh at that, and they both stepped into an elevator that smoothly glided upwards. Shiro tightened his grip on the strap of his duffel bag and stared at the brushed steel doors until the elevator stopped and opened out into the wide hallway decorated in varying shades of grey and the occasional hard looking bench. He was led into the commander's office which was just as sterile, save for a few photo frames on his desk and a small collection of books wedged between the binders of official Garrison business.