Page 34 of Bernadette

“Hardly ever. I hope Sal’s does a decent job?”

“Best in the area.”

As they talked, he took them through a small space. The room was what Bernadette thought of as a den, but Kalquorians usually referred such an area as a greeting room. It featured a couch, chairs, and floor cushions, all of which looked rarely used. There were no decorative embellishments.

It was the same in the dining room. A low table, scattered seating cushions, and nothing else. If Tumsa’d had a life since his clan broke up, it wasn’t on display.

He set the bins he’d taken from Bernadette on the table that was just large enough to accommodate their threesome and motioned for Hal to do the same.

Bernadette was certain they’d do the meaningful stare with each other again, and she was proven correct. This time, Tumsa spoke.

“Hello, Halmiko. You look well.”

“So do you. How have you been?”

“Fine.”

“Teaching sports to children? A worthwhile occupation.”

“I enjoy it. The kids are fantastic. And you? I haven’t seen you with Captain Miller’s crew before.”

“I joined up a couple weeks ago, but I’ve been flying on transports since the end of the war.”

“Steady work.”

“If you can find it.”

They might have been acquaintances or former co-workers rather than clanmates but for the ocean of injury that swelled beneath the empty words. Bernadette supposed it was better than flying fists or screamed accusations. Or the silence that descended after the initial niceties. They’d apparently run out of polite things to say.

“Can I help with dishes and drinks, Dramok Tumsa?” she asked with the quiet stretched too long.

“No, it’s no problem. Water? Juice? Coffee?”

“Coffee,” Bernadette and Hal chorused. She bit off a chuckle. If there was anything Kalquorians liked about Earth beyond its women, it was coffee.

“I’ll be back in a second.” Tumsa’s relief was palpable as he fled to the next room.

Hal busied himself breaking open a bin. He gazed at the mountain of steaks. Bernadette inhaled their scent and groaned with almost sexual pleasure at the scent of honest-to-God human food.

Tumsa returned with a tray of dishes, glasses of water, cups of coffee, and utensils. “Have you ever had beef steak, Halmiko?”

“Can’t say I have. It smells good enough.” He helped pass around the dishes.

“It’s not bad. Stringier than ronka, but tender when done right. Sal’s is pretty consistent when it comes to decent steak. Here’s your coffee, Matara Bernadette. Or do you prefer Captain Miller?”

“Call me Bernadette, please.”

They busied themselves dishing out food and making inane conversation about it. Both Bernadette and Tumsa warned Hal off the sour cream in time to stop him from dumping it on his potato as Bernadette did. As a rule, Kalquorians weren’t fans of sour cream. They were devotees of mac and cheese, however. After his first tentative taste, Hal piled it on his plate, cut up three steaks, mixed it all together, and dove in.

As eager as she was to delve into Doljen’s whereabouts, Bernadette held off bringing up the subject. She indulged in dinner. She reveled in familiar tastes she hadn’t had since her last visit to Haven, some three months before. Sal’s was better than the eateries closest to the spaceport, and she vowed to only eat there whenever she docked at Haven from then on.

She noted how intent her dinner companions were on their meals, avoiding looking at each other outside of quick peeks. Their occasional forays into conversation were stilted.

Bernadette finished her plate with satisfaction. Her experience eating with the Kalquorians of her crew assured her Hal and Tumsa were only halfway through their meals, if their appetites held out over their discomfort. Hal showed no sign of slowing down, dumping another hill of mac on his plate, and a healthy helping of baked beans. She winced and wondered why she’d thought that particular dish was a good idea when she was sharing a bed with him. Hopefully, he’d never heard of the Dutch oven treatment.

She was ready to get down to business. “Dramok Tumsa, I need to find Doljen.”

His two-pronged fork clanged against his plate. He set it down. “I’m sorry. I have no idea where he ended up. All I learned was that he was released from prison early to help the Imperial fight in our civil war. After that, he was discharged and disappeared.”

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