Ultima Ratio

Chapter 8: Pep Talk

It was Izzy that had freed Danya.

Of course, it hadn't been intentional, or so he claimed in the debrief immediately following the "incident."

During his research, he discovered extraordinarily high tech nanobots in his samples from Danya that reacted the best to ultraviolet light. Curiosity got the best of him, as always, and he went straight to the source to find out more.

The stationed guards were under the impression that Danya was unconscious again and, after being convinced Izzy had a way to restrain her if she woke up, accompanied him to run tests. While UV light rapidly healed her injuries, her vitals still showed her as unconscious, and Izzy deduced she simply needed more time. So he kept the light on her injuries and waited, killing time by sharing with the guards all his theories on Concordian technology.

Izzy guessed Danya had merely been playing dead and only reacted when he said something she didn't like. It took her a few seconds to break her restraints, knock Izzy and the guards to the ground, and make a run for it.

And now she was in an undisclosed location, possibly near death if she wasn't there already.

"I just wanted to see if my hypothesis was correct," Izzy concluded during the discussion-turned-interrogation. "And guess what? It was!"

As a civilian and key member of the United Nations' research and development division, Izzy received nothing more than a metaphorical slap on the wrist and a simple instruction to "make better choices." In fact, his punishment was closer to a reward as he was placed on house arrest in his lab, and he couldn't even pretend to be remorseful as he scurried from the command building to continue his work.

Akira's fate ended up being worse; even though she was officially deemed free of fault, she still received a lengthy lecture from her CO about letting Izzy out of her sight when "the mission doesn't end until the debrief begins."

By the time she left the command building, the sun was already an hour from the horizon, and the kitchen would probably be in a mad rush to prepare for dinner. But Akira was a VIP diner, and she knew the head cook would never turn away his favorite taste tester.

Besides, she needed a distraction, and she knew from experience rest wasn't an option.

The two-story mess hall was half the size of a football or soccer field, depending on the nationality of the person asked. From the outside, it was nearly indiscernible from the other plain gray buildings. Inside, however, was an expansive kitchen that fed most of the thousands of residents on Base, and it was famous for the constant mouthwatering smell of food surrounding it. In Akira's case, she simply appreciated the scents of nostalgia.

The smell of the night had a distinct spicy kick with a hint of sweetness, and Akira suddenly remembered childhood dinners where she tested how much Japanese curry and rice she could shovel into her mouth before the heat hit her.

Inside, a handful of patrons were scattered around the mess, most likely grabbing a coffee before the dinner rush. While the seating area was calm, the sounds of chattering cooks and clattering pans echoed out from the kitchen. Akira headed towards the epicenter of the ruckus, nodding in greeting to the staff setting up the food counter.

"Boss!" one of them called into the kitchen before Akira even arrived. "You got a visitor!"

The alert was immediately followed by a mad rush of footsteps, and the source appeared less than five seconds later, breathless and beaming.

Chef Raymond Dunn may have been in charge of the meals for the base's entire population, but he never hid that his primary concern was ensuring his only daughter was well-fed. And ever since he voluntarily transferred from cooking for the President to cooking for service members, he's kept up with his goal spectacularly.