Kathrine stood in the kitchen watching as Finlay began prep for some culinary experiments of his own. The menu for the catering gig had been decided shortly before going for a sleep cycle. Getting ingredients was no issue, most of them could be simply printed in the ship. What was needed was going to be a few spices, easy grab. There's bound to be some on the ships warehouse floors, plants were taken so they could be grown, private stock being sold in stores, etc. Then, a way to transport the goods to the location of the party. Berthold decided it was finally time to get a ride of his own... besides 'The Kitchen'. So He and Katherine were going on a shopping trip, Hada and Xiao were going to be having their rematch, Nyeith acting as referee as well. Barry and Hatti would be having their own little herbal session. It was an envious position to be in. Alone in a kitchen with near endless possibilities.

Katherine: "Can you be a bit more specific?"

Finlay: "While you're out, grab me a weapon. Doesn't matter what it is."

Katherine: "Yeah but, like... a gun? a sword? I'm not trying to weasel out of this, I promise."

Finlay: "Literally anything. I'm trying to diversify my skills, in and out of the kitchen. Doesn't even have to be expensive, but I would like something versatile."

Katherine: "...And there's no other way I can apologize?"

Finlay: "I'm not asking for an apology, I'm asking for a favor... to be honest. Your punch is one of the most normal hits I've taken in months... Fighting Hada and Lu is like fighting a whole Mortal Kombat roster... You know... just Barry and Berthold left and I'll have been hit by everyone on 'The Kitchen'... Wonder if there's a reward card for that kind of thing."

Spec: "Nope."

Finlay: "Way to kill the joke bud."

Katherine: "I'm more so worried that you're taking this so well... Also weren't you on some kind of Future seeing juice? Why didn't you dodge?"

Finlay: "Kat, of everyone I've met out here. You're the most... Logical? For the most part. If I do something that you think requires me getting my shit absolutely rocked. I trust your judgement on that."

Katherine: "Wow, uh... I... that is the most awkward compliment I've ever received. Alright. I'll see what I can do." Wishing Finlay good luck with his experiments, she went to the dock to meet with Berthold.

Solitude, at last. Finlay had been curious on the standard of cooking before I.U. met humanity. Don't get him wrong, he's tried the food on the ship from multiple vendors. For the most part delicious and fantastical, though he did regret ignoring Kat and Berts' warning against the cloud tacos. Pretty sure he could have digested concrete with less trouble. But that's different, all the restaurant's on the ship were made by crew that had spent time on the earth and learned, at least a little bit, about terran food culture. They were all new dishes made to appease the terrans and keep them comfortable during the journey. Interesting but Finlay wanted to work with pre-terran cuisine.

From what Finlay had looked up, chemical cooking was the primary form of preparation. It wasn't even entirely foreign to humanity. Ceviche, for example. Sure, it wasn't exactly 'Cooking' the fish used in the recipe. Citric acid simply made it a hard environment for bacteria, which made it safe to eat and it changes color, but that's simply proteins being denatured. Chem-cooking in the I.U seemed to be much more developed. Looking at the dozens of vials on the counter at least.

Finlay: "...Where best to start than meat?"

Spec: "Remember to wear gloves."

Finlay: "Well golly gee-wilikers! No shit, Sherlock." The advertisements mentioned one simple thing. Convert Organic Matter, Into Edible Matter! Last Finlay checked, he was organic. No way in hell is he risking his ANYTHING turning into a fucking side dish.

He had been printing a good ole' T-bone cut, thanks to his culinary research discount it only cost him 15 Credits. Having done some rough math, 1 Union Credit would be about $1.23 USD, nearly 1-1. So this FAT ASS 48 oz steak only cost him $18.45. What an insane deal and it wasn't as though this was a poor recreation. If one were to put this to another of the same cut, they'd be hard pressed to find out which is the fake. Slapping down the cut of Synth-meat on a wooden cutting board. and going through the many vials until he stumbled on a deep dark brown liquid. 'Red Meat Preparation-Seasoned-Luxury.'

Finlay: "That'll do nicely."

Spec: "Ooh, that's a fancy one to start off, apparently... again no taste buds but it has old rave reviews."

Taking the dropper from the vial and reading the instructions as he applied the chemical. It sizzled on the meat angrily as it soaked in deeper. He just had to leave it for 3 minutes, when all the reactive agents were used up leaving nothing but a finished steak. There were no marks, which made sense... no maillard reaction because not enough heat was generated. It just left an... admittedly unappealing grey color on the meat, as though it was boiled instead of broiled, seared or grilled.

Finlay: "...Okay, looks are shit... But, book covers and all."

Taking a knife and fork he cut into it with an uncomforting ease. It felt like he was cutting into... jelly bread? It just didn't have the resistance it was supposed to, looking at the cross-section showed that it would be 'Well-done' by usual standards... grey all the way through. Even more unsettling when combined with the texture.

Spec: "...That... doesn't... that's nothing like earth steak... right?"

Finlay: "...I'm not sure I want to bite into it."

Spec: "...No balls, you won't do it."

Instead of replying to the provocation Finlay quickly put the bite into his mouth and chewed... and chewed... and chewed... For something that was so soft to cut, it sure had a resistance to being eaten. The taste wasn't even bad, only the texture was wrong... it was quickly becoming something akin to steak flavored gum. Mustering his courage, he swallowed and grimaced as the "food" had one more cruel trick to play. Sticking and clinging to his throat all the way down, forcing him to dry swallow multiple times until it was finally down.

Finlay: "Guh... How? why? Why was this ever considered good? or luxury?"

Glancing down at the cutting board and seeing a very clean cut mark on the board itself. Right... organic matter. Now he had a new question... and he was afraid to ask it, but he needed an answer. Taking the vial back up and dripping the chemical onto the corner of the board itself. watching as it crackled and growled.. seeping into the wood. With shaky hand and praying to any gods that existed that he wasn't right. He poked his fork into the board, dreading as it sank in... the same as before. He cut into it and groaned as it cut away the same as the meat. Taking a few deep breaths he put the wood steak in his mouth... and chewed.

=

Spices? Check. 'Weapon'? Kinda check? Kat found a toy store and decided to peek in, and it was usual fair. RC cars and ships, some kind of Zero-G top, TCG, you name it they had it. One odd thing that seemed out of place in the sport section were... rocket knives? The teller said they were called Gnalan. They were meant as a simple back yard game, kind of like darts. You touch them to the glove to activate the knife, then throw the knife at a tree or pole with targets all around it and twitch your fingers to activate and control the micro-rockets. The more targets you hit, the more points. It seemed incredibly dangerous for... anyone, let alone children and she was told that accidents had happened. Basically alien lawn darts... So she bought a 5-set and a terran glove for the toy. She figured besides being incredibly dangerous, they would make for Pitons for rock climbing or with enough practice. Maybe with enough practice, Finlay could pierce something and bring it back.

Berthold: "Alright, not We need something large enough for me, you and Hada. Xiao has his cycle, Finlay the 'Little Bird'... Nyeith can probably ride the roof in warmer climates, but we should get collapsable seats and a sun roof. Hatti is a non-combat medic, so she stays on the ship most of the time... Barry can fit in anything and still have Boot space for goods and supplies."

Berthold was more excited than this than he let on. He mentally kicked himself for not going to the place after seeing the race on day one. He left earth with all of his life savings, his trust fund and a million from his parents... as a gift. Of course that million immediately went into his ship, but he still had a good 435,000 to use. A vehicle shouldn't cost much more than 200k. --

Persur: "538,000 credits."

Berthold: "Shit."

Katherine: "Isn't that a bit ridiculous?"

Persur: "Usually, I'd agree. But this custom build is up in the fighter class in materials alone. You've selected my experimental compressed accelerant engine. Based on your terran gas-injection engines, to have a full fuel tank alone would be 40k. Yearly. I already discounted the cost of the engine parts from the total as a thank you for being willing to send data back on it's use... Maybe if we cut back on the shell?"

Berthold: "No, safety is the most important. We'll be using this in the long term and who knows for what in the future. I also have no doubt in my mind that Xiao lu is gonna put a dent in it somehow if we let him drive."

Persur: "...You dudes know the hammer?"

Katherine: "Hammer?"

Persur: "THE HAMMER! One of those guys that did the race on pick-up day. I owe my success to them! I've been exploding in sales ever since. Commissions and upgrades~ What a bounty!"

Katherine: "We actually know all 3 of them. We're on the same crew."

The Ur'quanth stood from his desk and looked over the design one more time. This... is another opportunity.

Persur: "...250k today. 50k yearly until it's fully paid off. Years where you are recognized by the I.U are free. AND. You slap these bad boys on all your vehicles." Handing Berthold a Kinhaxxi Auto bumper sticker. The front of an engine with Bullhorns in a bold black.

Berthold: "DEAL!"