The doors opened with a swish. It’s crazy how accurate the movies were back home. Alphonse smiled at the space-like sound of the doors opening.

“Wow.” It was one word, but it perfectly reflected how Isobelle felt.

The young group’s eyes opened up to a sprawling market. People of all ages stood behind their stalls as they rapidly fired words out of their mouths. It was hard to understand at first. It was like an auctioneer trying to sell apples and oranges.

Each stall was more brightly coloured than the other, as flags of all kinds hung from the rafters of the hastily assembled stalls. It reached further than Alphonse could see.

Marcel sweat as he eyed the ocean of people all squeezing past each other to make it to other stalls, outspoken people were ushering those that were shy or had a weaker character into their own stalls as they attempted to sell whatever they had. Whether it was fish, bakery, clothes, jewellery, the list went on endlessly.

“Uh, how about we go back up?” Marcel squirmed at the thought of wading through the ocean of people.

“Oh, c’mon Marcel. Live a little, will you?” Ellena grabbed Marcel by the wrist as she pulled him into the room.

Marcel panicked, but the high energy soon engulfed him in the market. The bright colours cleansed his eyes from the monotonous hallways of the spaceship.

“There’s a sweet shop!” Isobelle shot in front of them towards a stall that was filled with a vast assortment of all different sweets. She crouched down as her eyes sunk into the bright ocean of bright pinks and blues. “Guys, they look like the fizzy blue bottles from home!”

“Never mind those, they have cola bottles!” Dillan took a whiff of the sugary sweets. “I never thought I'd be so happy to see candy.”

“Oi, get back you lot,” an old man moved in between Dillan and his stand. “Don’t go spreading your alien germs around my shop.”

The old man was wearing jeans that had been ripped and stitched back together many times over and over. A worn out leather jacket lay loosely over his chubby shoulders, clearly exposing its cheap fibers underneath. His rotten teeth emitted a foul stench as it wafted forwards.

Dillan almost gagged as he backed off. “Hey man, I was just having a look.”

“Yeah and just a look don’t get me many sales, ya hear? You’re obviously some fresh recruits, so come back when you get some damned credits, if you don’t kick the bucket early.” The old man scowled at the youngsters.

“Hey,” Ellena stepped up as she nudged Dillan out of the way. “What’s with your attitude? It’s worse than your damned breath, old creature.”

“What the hell did you say? I’ve crawled through more shit than you could excrete out that arse during the Great Migration, young lady.” Wrath filled the old man's face. “You dare disrespect me, a mere alien recruit?”

“And that’s enough of that codger, Albert.” An older lady walked over with a cane as she whacked the side of the old man’s arm. “Come with me, kids, lest you’ll catch something from the old geezer.”

The old lady took them to a small café. It was only big enough to cater to a few people, and the hygiene was questionable. Plates that hadn’t been washed in god knows how long lay scattered around. Flies buzzed about, but the old lady seemed unbothered by them.

“What was that old man’s problem?” Ellena fumed. “I was this close to bashing his skull in.”

“That’s enough of that young’n,” the older lady said. “I’ll give ye’s a slice of advice for these parts. Don’t go angering the locals, no matter what yous do, we’ve been through a lot and have short fuses.” The old lady started whisking something up in the kitchen. Cups and plates clattered around the shop as she attempted to pull something from within the cupboards.

“My name’s Isobelle,” Isobelle smiled. “If you don’t mind me asking, what happened during the Great Migration? I’ve tried to look through the history section on our devices, but it doesn’t say much.”

“That’s cos our historians are long dead young girly, been a long time since that section has been forgotten.” The old lady said before her wrinkled face frowned. “Bah, people view us as a relic of the past. The youngen’s say the seven saved all us, say they brought us up into these here ships. What a load of bull!” She shook her head before continuing. “Hah, those young seven were barely walkin’ before we arrived here.”

“Then what’s the truth?” Marcel peered into his beady eyes forwards.

“Look, for yer own good, don’t go digging around. I shouldn’t av told yous this stuff.” The old lady’s eyes gazed at them.

“Shouldn’t have told them what, Margrett?” The dull sound of boots ringing on the floor entered the cramped café. The navy uniform adorned with golden pauldrons sent a shiver down the young recruits’ spines.

“Ain’t you got anything better to do, Marshall? T’was only yesterday you were running in yer undies in this shop. Now look at ye, bending over backwards for the greedy few.” Margrett spat on the ground, her yellow spit covering the officer’s boots.

Isobelle gasped. Goosebumps covered her thin arms.

The officer gave an empty smile. Veins popped on his forehead. “Margrett, you’d best be careful. Don’t forget the punishment for having a loose mouth.”

“Aye, I know it well, Marshall. Very well, Bennet knew it bette-” Margrett was suddenly cut off as Marshall’s hand smashed onto the dingy cafe countertop. At the impact, the wooden countertop was obliterated. Plates and glasses smashed onto the ground because of the sudden blast of wind.

“You’re lucky you’re a resident. This is the last chance, Margrett.” Marshall’s eyes turned bloodshot.

Margrett didn’t say a word, but her defiant eyes never once lost their luster. Her hands remained still.

Then, the young recruits’ devices started ringing, an alarm sound that they were used to ringing forth.

“Well, recruits. Enjoyed the show? How about you scurry back to the barracks? You don’t want to be punished for breaking the curfew.” Marshall scowled.

Alphonse could feel the blood lust being emitted by the officer in front of him. It was almost sickening. Their heads spun as they quickly left the café.

Isobelle bit her lips as she looked back towards the old lady, then the old lady sent forwards a small smile as the young group disappeared back up the elevator.

“Fuck, what was that all about? Should we tell someo-” Dillans' mouth was suddenly covered by Marcel’s hand.

Marcel looked around the elevator for anything. His heart was racing, he knew that if they acted out of line the officer would have done something to them. Would the punishment be death? The thought raced through his mind. Dillan mumbled as Marcel let go.

“Don’t talk about anything that happened. This isn’t a fucking joke.” Marcel said.

The others were shocked at the rare foul language being spouted from Marcel’s mouth.

“Promise me you guys won’t say anything to anyone about what happened.” Marcel’s eyes were serious, his hands trembled.

“Marcel’s right, it won’t do us any good telling anyone.” Isobelle said. “I promise.”

The young group swore to not talk about what happened to anyone else as they returned to the barracks. Night approached as Alphonse fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

***

“Alphonse, get out of the house and try to make friends. It's doing you no good rotting your brain away with those computers.” A pretty middle-aged lady admonished the young boy in front of her.

The boy had long hair and a skinny body. Empty snack packets lay all around him, as his head was currently buried in a book.

“But mum… I don’t wanna try. Besides, all they wanna do is talk about people behind their backs and bully others.” The boy munched on a chocolate stick as the brown scraps melted into his shirt.

“Well, surely there must be a few good eggs in the basket. You need friends in life, Alphonse. Or you’ll end up like me, no one to talk to, no one to hang out with. No one to help me.” Alphonse’s mother’s voice trailed off near the end.

“But you have me and Tehya.” Alphonse brightly smiled.

Alphonse’s mother ruffled up his hair as she smiled. “Oh, what am I going to do with you, little rascal?”

***

Alphonse was shocked awake at the sound of screaming as everyone rushed to their feet.

Ah, fuck this. Alphonse thought as he dragged himself into the cold showers of the barracks.