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“It is not a bomb, you idiot,” an older girl named Ririna snaps at him.
“Okay, everyone here needs to take a breath and go sit down,” I tell them. “How about some of Banna’s honey pudding?”
The bomb talk is curbed by excitement over impending treats as they put their bags down inside the back room. I have them all agree to stay put while I retrieve my bribes from the restaurant’s refrigeration room. As I open the glass door, Raffa bursts through the entrance to the kitchens. His hair is flying in all directions.
“Sector 5 is cleared, and the entire Azza border was pushed back! Can you rutting believe this? They retreated so far that little pieces of their border links were rutting disintegrated! And a whole bunch are just floating around, abandoned—”
“What are you saying?” Banna squeaks, the plates clanging as she puts them down with trembling hands.
“They’re saying that Kar’Kal is going to be cleared for inhabitance. The Sector will belong to us, and they’re saying this war is over!”
Banna hesitates, clutching the counter for support.
“That’s wonderful news,” she says.
“They’re blasting confetti in the atrium,” Raffa says. “I came here as soon as I heard.”
I leave the honey pudding untouched on its shelf, instead joining Banna where she stands pale-faced at the counter.
“Raffa,” I say, pointing at the backroom. “Will you take Ririna and Vanni to see the celebration in the atrium?”
He wrinkles his nose. “I guess it’s the least I could do.”
“Thanks. They’ll love it. Tell Sallina to come stay with me and Banna. She hates the loud noises…”
Raffa emerges with Vanni clinging to his back like a monkey and Ririna marching behind him with a grin on her face. In the distance, I hear the roar of a cheering crowd and more explosive noises. Sallina runs right to me, and I hoist her in my arms as the others run off. She has her tiny palms glued to her ears. There are people leaving the restaurant in the middle of their meal to go investigate.
“Are you alright?” I ask Banna when we’re the only ones left in the kitchen.
“Until there’s a surrender, is it really over?” Her lips tremble with worry, even though she usually projects impenetrable calm. “I’m afraid to believe this. But let me bring up the news outlets on the holo…”
We walk into the near-abandoned dining room, where a few tables have simply shrugged off the clamor to continue their meal. Banna’s waitstaff is huddled in the corner whispering while staring at their comm devices, but they turn to watch as Banna fires up the holo in the center of the room. It tends to only get used for special fight nights or holidays when guests enjoy a little background entertainment during their meals.
“A celebration has begun in the Garden District and in Holo Square as we receive news of a massive Azza retreat from both the Sector 5 border and all other observable Azza-Alliance convergence points. Reports of how far the border contracted are unclear as it can no longer be detected from any point in the civilized galaxies. Station City Reporting is on the job! Keep streaming our live investigation as we seek to discover how much ground has been gained…”
Banna’s grim expression is gone as patrons get up to congratulate her or express their happiness for the Kar’Kali people. Her and Lakkavi are the most prominent Kar’Kali figures in Station City, so she’s become something like a politician’s wife without asking for it.
“Is Lala coming home then?” Sallina asks me.
I frown. “I’m not sure, sweetie. Do you still want honey pudding?”
She nods her head. Hearing any more of this news might upset her, so I carry her back to the kitchen, and she helps me get two honey puddings.
“No one’s here,” I whisper. “So maybe we can sit on the counter for this once?”
Sallina smiles as I let her down on top of copper-color metallic surface. I hop on the edge and we both take a bite.
“Caught in the act,” a voice comes from the back hallway, the corridor that connects restaurant to the workers’ housing that Raffa and I once lived in.
My head snaps up.That voice…
I drop the pudding glass and it crashes to the floor. Sallina squeaks in surprise.
“Kalla!”
My mate saunters into the kitchen, dressed in such a casual outfit that I barely recognize him. Instead of a black armored suit, he wears a plain navy knit shirt and utilitarian pants that bag around his boots. There’s no gloves, no cloak, no weapon strap. His silvery hair is tied into a high ponytail. He looks so… civilian.
“Hello, little flame.”
