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“You’ll be happy to know I bargained for the medical department’s upgrades at a cost lower than the limit you set.” He smugly displayed the invoices on his handheld.
Bernadette whistled in admiration. “Dr. Z obviously lacked your negotiating skills.”
“She was probably loyal to buying from Adraf suppliers, who aren’t shy about their markups. I located another seller more focused on repeat business, which I plan to give.”
He was practically wiggling in his seat. Bernadette enjoyed seeing him so pleased with himself. “Great job.”
“And?” He glanced pointedly at Tumsa.
“And I love you too,” she laughed.
He beamed. “I also found a beautiful location for a clanning and re-dedication ceremony. There’s a valley nearby with seven waterfalls and the cutest inn you can imagine. It’s stunning! The perfect place.”
She managed to contain her impatience, but his sappy expression was a bit much for her practical side. “I guess it sounds nice. But isn’t Tratsod out of the way for your families to come? Especially Tumsa’s. I mean, they’re elderly, and his mother isn’t in the best of health.”
“She can handle the trip,” Tumsa interjected.
“There’s the cost, though. Destination ceremonies are expensive. The important thing is we’re clanned. Do we really need an overpriced ritual?”
Doljen’s face fell. Bernadette felt bad for her hardnosed realism, but she was springing for the sickbay’s upgrades he’d pleaded for since joining the crew. Didn’t that show love andrespect better than speaking some vows that couldn’t come close to the depth of her feelings for him and the others?
Hal chose that moment to arrive with his tray. The mountain of food he’d constructed was impressive, even by his standards. Doljen rose and barked, “Did you leave any for the rest of us?” He slouched to the line to claim his own breakfast or to pout in private. Bernadette was betting on the pouting.
Hal speared her with a look. “What did you say to him?”
“Nothing! I just pointed out how pricey and inconvenient a clanning ceremony on Tratsod would be.”
“My Matara.” It was amazing how much reproach Tumsa could load into a pair of words while maintaining a loving expression. “I handle the finances. It isn’t out of reach to do what he’s suggesting.”
She thought of their next stop on Station Nove, the same station she’d met Hal on. “It’s money we could spend on those who need help. Refugees are more important than some glitzy party.”
“I agree, but Doljen is important too. He needs this ceremony.”
“Needs it? What are you talking about?”
Hal watched them as he might a tennis match, purple eyes darting to and fro as he steadily made his food mountain disappear. He must have been hungry to not be adding his two cents.
Tumsa smiled and took her hands. “Reforging our clan is a big deal. It’s a much bigger statement than when we men first came together. This time, we had to fight for our union. We’re still fighting for it, though Doljen’s committed to it heart and soul. That’s what makes it so important. And adding you as our Matara? That’s even bigger.”
Bernadette was quiet, letting his words soak in. She glanced at Doljen, who was creeping along the food line at a snail’s pace but putting little on his tray.
“It means that much to him?”
“If I know our Imdiko, it means everything.” He squeezed her hands encouragingly. “Let me check on what I can do to lessen the financial hit. Maybe we can schedule shipments in such a way that we can pick up our guests on Kalquor along with cargo, bring them here for the ceremony and pick up another cargo, then take them home. I’m sure we can make my family and the rest comfortable on this big tub. And continue to assist refugees.”
When he put it in those terms, she couldn’t refuse. There was damned little she could refuse Tumsa. His was a perfect balance of caring, responsibility, and command.
His easy guidance failed to change her opinion that a grandiose ceremony was silly, but if it was important to Doljen, it was important to her. She’d do anything for him. For all of them.
“All right. Let’s do it.”
Tumsa went up to the food line and fetched his own tray. He caught up to the lingering Doljen and proceeded to load up both their trays with a sane amount of food, neither too much nor too little. Doljen appeared to be protesting, but Tumsa spoke to him, and he subsided.
“If it makes you feel any better, I don’t enjoy big, fancy ceremonies either,” Hal confided to Bernadette, his mouth empty for the first time in several minutes. “I’d rather lose an arm like Kom than dress up and try to look pretty.”
“The sacrifices we make for others, huh?”
“I guess they do the same for us.” He winked and plowed into what was left of his gargantuan meal.
