Page 16 of Every Almost

"No more catastrophic events in my kitchen."

"Good. I'm sure it will stay that way."

"You said that about the Vryx."

"Yes..."

"Look how that turned out."

"Goodnight, Borran."

The Emberkind'scorridors were quieter during the evening shift. The lighting dropped to a warmer register, the foot traffic thinned, and the ship settled into the particular hum that Reyna had come to associate with the hours between duty and rest. She knew every frequency in that hum. The life support cycling, the gravity systems maintaining their steady pull, and the engines,her ship'sengines, running at the percentage Cael deemed sufficient.

After the day of consistent issues rising up and needing immediate or quick solutions, Reyna finished the final meal of the day, seated with Kess, Tavi, and Selowen, while Maren sat across the table from them, providing some basic information about the ventilation issue in the kitchen.

Now, she was making her way to her quarters. And after the Admiral, the Aetherfin, the Vryx, Borran's bread, Tavi's impossible timeline, Cael's priorities - all of it - she was going to walk through her door, close it behind her, and not open it again until the morning shift.

At least, that was the plan.

Then she heard the commotion.

It was coming from near the Mess Hall, the exact room she had just departed. Part of her silently told herself not to worry about it, not to engage. But that was what made her a good captain.

She didn't listen.

Turning on her heel, she backtracked down the hall and made a left toward the Mess Hall. As she got closer, she realized it was noisier than she first thought.

Lights began to flash and an alarm started going off, loudly. The frequency jolted Reyna.Was that the intruder alarm going off?How was it possible the alarm had triggered while they were in the middle of Coalition space? The piercing shrills of monotone emergency echoing down the hall and throughout the ship thumped in Reyna's veins. She began to run, turning into the Mess Hall just as Borran came barreling out of his kitchen.

"In there," was all he said as she ran up to him.

"What is it?" Reyna questioned, looking toward the kitchen door. Then she heard what sounded like something...angry.

"That."

Reyna studied Borran's face. He was rigid. His massive Brontari frame was locked in place, his jaw set, his six-fingered hands pressed flat against his apron. She'd seen this posture once before, years ago, when a supply shipment had arrived with the wrong flour and Borran had stood in the cargo bay for a full minute before saying one word to the delivery crew.

The word had been "No."

Right now, Borran's face held something far worse than wrong flour. Borran's face held the expression of a man whose redemption Gula Cakes, the first batch after an entire day of bread suffering and Vryx violations, had just been destroyed by something that was currently screaming and speaking in his kitchen.

Why wasn't her Voxlink translating for her?

Reyna walked toward the kitchen door, Borran right behind her, along with who she clocked as Torvax, Maren, Tavi, Orion, and Kess having just arrived in the Mess Hall themselves. She peered through the door's tiny window into the kitchen itself, and saw something beyond strange.

"Is that a head under your mixing bowl, Borran?"

Reyna asked the question and then paused, realizing she'd just uttered a sentence she'd never expected to say in her life. She looked over her shoulder at Borran, who only nodded. Reyna turned her gaze back through the window.

Seated up against the main counter was… something. Slouched and not entirely moving yet, Reyna thought for a moment maybe it was dead.

Then the mixing bowl began to make sounds. Yells and an exasperated voice and noises that Reyna only caught here and there.

"What—cake—where—" were only some of the words that came through her Voxlink. As if there was someone under the bowl speaking...

"An alien language..." Reyna said quietly.

She opened the kitchen door slowly, pushing gently on its surface so it would swing inward, providing a barrier between her and whatever could possibly be in that mixing bowl.