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.