And none of them was cheap.
At this rate, I was going to have to actually catch the thief for Torran in order to come out ahead, which meant I needed to talk to him about the details. My mental to-do list just kept getting longer and longer.
“Would one of you mind setting the table? Silverware is in the drawer. Plates and glasses are in the cabinet,” I said with a wave in the correct direction, “and the extra faucet by the sink dispenses chilled water. I’m going to cut the lasagna and call the others to dinner.”
Anja and Torran silently worked together, opening cabinets and drawers until they found what they needed. By the time I was done slicing the two pans of lasagna, the table was set. I put the salad in the center of the table and a pan of lasagna on either side of it.
I hit the ship-wide intercom. “Dinner is ready. You’re all released from your quarters. Come and get it before it gets cold.”
“Where should we sit?” Anja asked.
I studied the table. If Kee, Eli, and I sat in our usual spots, we would have humans clustered at one end and Valoffs at the other, which might be comfortable, but it would do nothing to build camaraderie.
“We’ll interlace everyone. You sit at the end of this side. Varro will sit next to you, then me, then Chira. The other side will be Havil across from you, then Kee, General Fletcher, and Eli.” Adding Lexi would break the pattern a little, but I’d worry about that when it happened.
Seating Varro across from Kee was a gamble. If he really hadn’t meant to insult her, then he’d have a chance to apologize and make it up to her. But if he couldn’t keep his insults to himself, then he’d be eating in his quarters, right after I buried a sharp elbow in his ribs.
The others began trickling in and I directed them to their seats. Eli grumbled under his breath, but since I couldn’t hear exactly what he was saying, I let it go.
Torran approached me as the last of his people settled into place. He handed me what appeared to be a large bottle of wine, but the bottle itself was far more ornate than the bottles I usually bought. “To celebrate our contract,” he said.
I frowned at the bottle. I didn’t remember having it in our small collection. We usually drank beer or cider if we were going to drink. “Where did you find this?”
“I brought it with us. Chira retrieved it for me.”
I turned it over and noticed the label written in Valovan. I couldn’t read the language, but I could recognize the characters and some common words. I looked at him with wide eyes. “It’s Valovian wine?”
He inclined his head.
Valovian wine was renowned across the galaxy. It was also hideously expensive. Bootleggers had made a killing during the war, and now semilegitimate distributors were doing the same. But perhaps it wasn’t so costly for a high-ranking general who made his home on Valovia.
“Thank you,” I said. “Would you mind opening it while I get out the glasses? Do you need a corkscrew?”
Torran shook his head. “Our bottles don’t use cork.”
Neither did ours these days, but we still used a corkscrew to open them. I let it go.
He pulled the thick, waxy covering from the top of the bottle and then removed a delicate composite stopper. The stopper had a built-in grip and what looked like a one-way valve. It was as pretty as the rest of the bottle.
Torran poured the wine into glasses and I distributed them to the table. He handed me the next-to-last glass and then picked up the final one for himself. We returned to the table, and he raised his drink. “To success.”
We all raised our glasses and then drank. The first sip slid down my throat like liquid velvet—smooth and rich. It was like no wine I’d had before and probably never would again. It was too rich for my meager bank account, but now I understood why people paid ridiculous amounts of money for it.
Kee made a delighted sound. “Keep bringing wine and you can stay as long as you like.”
“Considering how much this wine sells for, I would agree to that deal,” I replied with a grin. “But that means you can’t drink it all.”
She clutched her glass close with a dramatic flourish and laughter rippled around the table.
We passed the food and everyone served themselves. The Valoffs were more hesitant, but Kee and Eli dug in with gusto and I did the same. I hummed in delight. It was a good batch, and it’d been a long time since we’d had lasagna.
It reminded me of home.
I hadn’t seen my parents in over a year, but we kept in touch with asynchronous video or text messages, depending on how deep in the galaxy I was. And I carried fond memories of their tiny, warm kitchen and my mom’s loving smile with me wherever I went.
Chira, who sat on my right, made a faintly surprised sound after trying a bite of the lasagna. “This is good.”
“Tavi’s lasagna is the best,” Eli confirmed. His first serving was nearly gone, and he was already eyeing his second. Luckily for him, we hadn’t put much of a dent in the two big pans, so there was plenty left.
“Thank you. I’m glad you like it. I’ve never cooked for Valoffs before, so you’ll have to let me know if things are too spicy or too bland or otherwise don’t agree with you. You won’t offend me. I’ll be far more upset if you’re hungry and miserable in silence.”
I tried not to notice that while Torran had eaten his salad, he hadn’t touched the lasagna on his plate.
On my other side, Varro ate in silence. Across the table from him, Kee chatted with Havil and Anja, and even occasionally drew Torran into the conversation. The only person she pointedly excluded was the silent Valoff next to me.
So he hadn’t apologized.
Poor bastard.
Kee shined brightest of all of us, and her attention was like basking in sunlight. Take that attention away, and the world turned a little darker and colder. It was as if the sun decided to shine on everyone but you. Eli and I both had been on the receiving end before, but we had been smart enough to apologize, promptly and profusely.
We’d see how long it took Varro to learn the same lesson.
We all had a second glass of wine, and the delicious alcohol was just strong enough to lower guards and smooth some of the group’s hard edges without tipping anyone over into belligerent drunkenness.
And so we survived our first dinner without resorting to threats, violence, or insults.
Torran eventually ate his lasagna without a single word or expression to indicate what he thought about it. Not that I was watching him that closely, but all of the other Valoffs had expressed their appreciation for the meal. I reminded myself that it didn’t matter what he thought, as long as he ate.