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“Come on in!” Iago said cheerfully.

Pirra entered the cabin, dipping her crest as she crossed the threshold.  An ancient tradition, but always polite!

“Aunt Pirra!” Elliot called, crashing into her.

“Elliot, you’re getting taller every time I see you!” she whistled cheerfully, picking him up.  “You’ll be taller than me before long!”

“Maybe when I’m . . . TWENTY-FIVE,” the boy said with a laugh.

She flicked her crest up and down quite blatantly.  “Though I measure to my top feather,” she noted.

“No fair,” Elliot said.  “You can make yourself taller that way.”

Laughing, she put him down and he dashed to Alexander.

“Hey bud!” he said.  “Wait, serious greeting.”  He extended his hand, and both began to act with mock gravity.

“Good to see you again sir,” Elliot said in his mock esteemed gentleman impression.

“Mm, yes, quite so,” Alexander agreed, sniffing and miming holding a pipe.

Pirra looked up and saw Iago grinning brightly and it gladdened her.

Since the invitation, she’d been feeling nervous about this whole event.

But after all Iago had lost, how difficult a time he’d been having, she could only feel glad to see him so happy.

“Pirra,” Cassandra said quietly.  “Would you help me bring out the food?”

“Of course,” she replied, pleased to let the three men talk and laugh.  They were going to get progressively more absurd, anyway, and already Elliot was asking Alexander about hypothetical human-cabbage hybrids to conquer the universe with.

“I’d recommend mixing with bok choy,” Alexander answered seriously.

Snorting, Pirra went into the kitchen.

The cabin was a bit smaller than it should be for three, Pirra thought.  They had probably already looked into getting larger accommodations, but now the place felt slightly crowded.

The living room had become a dining room, a large table taking up much of the available space.  They’d had a nice and large table printed for the occasion – it was a bit of a waste to keep such a thing around all the time, and after they were done they could just have it recycled again.

In the kitchen, Pirra saw six plates, wondering who the extra was for, but did not comment.

“Here, if you would,” Cass asked, handing her two plates.  One was clearly for her; it was a kind of fishy casserole – her antenna rose, taking in the scent.  It smelled very good, and she appreciated that it was something that could be eaten in smaller amounts.  It was unusual for Dessei to not just swallow food whole, but they could eat smaller portions, and doing it that way was more comfortable for everyone in a mixed group.

Her people had a lot of hangups about eating, she mused.

Taking the plates out, she saw in her HUD that Iago had assigned them seats, and he’d put her next to Cassandra.

For a moment she was annoyed, but it was hard to hold onto – she did actually appreciate that she’d get a chance to know the woman more.

Cassandra appeared a moment later with more plates.

“Do you cook much?” she asked pleasantly.

“Not when I can help it,” Pirra admitted.  “I can, though, but often Alexander cooks or we just get something from the canteen.”

“Oh, I love to cook,” Cassandra said.  “But Iago actually made most of this, he wanted to make sure you had something you liked, so I hope you will.  I don’t know much about Dessei food, I’m sorry to say.”

“It smells very nice,” Pirra replied, moving to sit in her chair.

Cassandra disappeared to bring in more plates and the boys wandered in, still talking, though now about drone racing.

“The Red Crest’s are streaking, but I tell you – Grand Pass will still win the season.  They’re underrated!” Iago said.

“You always think Grand Pass will win, and every year you get so upset when they barely come in third,” Alexander replied.

“Just trust me – this year is their year.”

“Really, drone racing?” Cassandra said, taking her seat gently.  “Isn’t that very wasteful?”

“It’s exciting, mom!” Elliot chimed in, hopping into his seat.

“But they crash so many drones.  Just think about what those could be doing . . .”

“Eh, better than if it was human pilots in them,” Iago said with a shrug.

“I can’t imagine how shocking it would be to be one of the remote pilots and crash,” Cassandra continued thoughtfully.  “Probably terrifying.”

“You get used to it,” Pirra said.

“You’re a drone jockey?” Cass asked, surprised.

“Did it for a season or two when I was young – minor league on Enope only, I’m not that good!  But yes – the first few times you crash at high speeds it seems so real it can give you the shakes.  Some people just quit after their first.”

“But you didn’t,” Alexander said, his eyes twinkling.

“Of course not!  But eventually I found something even stupider, Response work,” she replied with a laugh.

Iago laughed as well, firing off finger guns at her.

“Ahh . . . it was great,” he admitted.  “I mean, not all of it, of course . . . but sometimes those crazy dangerous moments, you look back on them and it’s a cherished memory.  I’m going to miss it.”

Pirra had begun to poke at her food, considering where to start, when he said that, and she looked up sharply, her crest moving.

Iago looked away, and an awkward silence fell.

“Well,” Cass said smoothly.  “If you don’t mind, Pirra and Alexander, could we give thanks?  I was hoping to wait for-“

A chime came to the door.

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