One of the large hangars at the Rejected Corps base had been repurposed into a makeshift canteen. The once-empty space now buzzed with the clatter of cutlery and low murmurs of conversation. Though most of the base's members were trained for combat, not every military role revolved around fighting. A few had experience in the kitchen, enough to keep the rest fed and functional.
A long metal counter had been set up at the far end, where steam rose from buffet-style trays. The scent of hot food filled the air, simple, hearty meals served in deep, dented trays. Members moved through the line, helping themselves to whatever they needed, be it a mountain of carbs or just enough to take the edge off their hunger.
