I join Fern as we exit the computer room, and once again, I remember that I’m really short, even compared to a short guy like Fern. And he’s like - fourteen at most! Or he’s just short. Either one is plausible. Maybe I should ask him?

...Nah, he seems like the kinda guy who’s insecure about his height. I wasn’t when I was human. I was totally tall. Like, 190 at least. Totally. I wasn’t 172 or anything, that’s short as shit!

Haha.

Ha…

Within a few minutes, we reach what seems to be the cafeteria. It’s a rather large room, containing six tables with room for six chairs at each. Four of these tables are occupied with troopers who have now removed their helmets to show their faces. They’re a pretty diverse bunch, huh? Some have long hair, others none at all. Some handsome, some thin. Some pale as a moon, others dark like opals. No women though. Then again, most militaries on Earth had pretty few women too, so maybe that’s intentional? Unsure.

The two tables not occupied with troopers are reserved for people in uniform. One table for people in black uniforms, the other for the officers of the ship. Right now, only the Lieutenant and Commander are there, but I guess Fern will join them shortly.

Hmm. I-, I’m not sure where I should sit?... Maybe I should grab a tray and hope Fern doesn’t mind me joining him at the officer’s table. Either that or I try to spot Atte.

Going by scent… That’s him, right over there.

Blonde, half-short hair. Striking blue eyes sunk a little too deep in their sockets for a man who otherwise seems pretty fit. Like he’s seen just a little too much.

I don’t really have time to think much more about it before Fern pulls me to the food counter. We both accept a tray each of some sort of indiscernible white mush, a blue liquid in a cup and a few other foodstuffs I can barely describe. Still, it does smell… good? I think. It doesn’t smell like the nothingness of space, so in that way, it does smell good.

The guy serving me didn’t seem too happy to do it (might have wondered whether I can eat human food or not), but once I had my food and Fern dragged me back to the officer’s table, it didn’t seem to matter much. We both sat down. Describing the Lieutenant as “disgusted” would again be a bit of an understatement. I wonder what exactly he’s got against me? Oh, wait, yeah, I’m an alien. Weird how that works.

Hm? Hang on, he’s looking at Fern with equal disgust. That’s a bit-,

“How unprofessional of you, Ensign. Do you truly believe eating the same slop as the troopers will gain you a promotion?” the Lieutenant asks nastily, spitting out the word troopers. Hm, now that I actually take the time to look, it seems like both the Lieutenant and Typhin are eating something that, well, certainly isn’t mush. More like they’re drinking a pair of - what? Smoothies? Some sort of weirdly coloured half-liquid in a cup. No idea what it is, but it sure doesn’t look good.

Fern quickly adopts a flushed complexion. “S-, sorry, sir. Last time I followed your excellent example my body reacted rather… Maladaptively.”

The Lieutenant sneers but doesn’t make any further comment. Probably since Typhin is sitting right next to him.

Oh, our eyes met! Hi Typhin!

Oh? Did he just shrug? Guess he doesn’t consider the Lieutenants acting to be so kind either. Well, I guess I’d better start eating. Seems like the polite thing to do, especially since nobody is talking or anything.

I stab a fork into the white mush and bring it to my mouth, making sure not to bite off the fork. Nomch.

…!!

Wh-, what!

It’s-, hey, that’s really good! Geez, for a food that looks like crushed maggots and pulp, it’s not too bad! I can’t really describe the taste at all, and the consistency is kind of like thick orange juice pulp, but-, but! It’s darn good!

I shovel a few more mouthfuls into my waiting maw. Good. Good. Good. Yup. That’s a 10/10 right there. The bugs and rocks don’t even compare!

Within seconds, I’ve finished all the white pulp I had. Of course, I don’t feel even slightly full, but the recognition does make me realize that I actually have other foods on my tray.

I stick what looks like a long, curly bean into my mouth. Oh. Uhuh. That is. Also very good. It’s kind of sweet, but with a strange touch of umami that makes it almost taste meaty? I have no idea how what should be a sort of vegetable could taste like this, but it might be because it’s a space bean. Goodness. I’m not sure how to compare it to the pulp since the consistency is stronger and such, but the flavour is a bit more sprawling and unsure, so I’ll have to give it a 9/10. Very good, but it could be better.

I move onto the next unidentified food. 8/10. Another food. 10/10. Yet another. 9/10.

If this is what regular foot soldiers in a military space station consider normal food, I think actual good space food would probably make me pass out or something. Holy moly.

Now to wash it down with some of this here blue milk or whateve-,

oW FUCK SHIT

The cup clatters from my hand, spilling onto my empty tray with a real racket, grabbing the attention of pretty much everyone in the room.

My mind blanks out. I know I’m not making a sound, but internally, I’m screaming. I’m pretty sure my entire tongue just melted off. What in the fiery heck was THAT?? M-, my teeth are also-,

I touch the inside of my mouth. Yup. Half my teeth have dissolved, leaving either stumps or exposed nerves. Fucking heck. Yeah, I’m not-, I’m not touching that stuff again. Liquids just don’t do it for me, huh?

“Mort?” Typhin asks from across the table, a worried look on his face. “Everything alright?”

“Ea, ah yashk huht meh on he melk,” I say both tongue and toothlessly. It doesn’t seem to alleviate his worry in the least. Maybe he can see how half my mouth is gone? Hopefully, it’s only noticeable on the inside. Though, going by his frown, I’m pretty sure he can see it. Darnit.

“Ensign, will you fetch a cleaner droid?” Typhin asks Fern, who I only now notice has been staring at me for a while now.

“Uh? Uh, yeah! Of course, sir!” Fern replies, shooting from the table.

At least that milk acid thing didn’t get on any clothes or anything.

Hm. Mental note: stay away from liquids. That milk was a 1/10 at best.