“This is what I call dinner,” Nippy said, raising the bowl with a teasing smile.
Lus laughed nervously. “Yeah… dinner.”
“Don’t be so serious, Kid.” Nippy smacked him on the back and returned to his seat, leaving Lus alone by the serving table.
Lus sighed and grabbed a bowl, quickly ladling in some of the soup. He nearly forgot his spoon, but snagged one before turning back to the cafeteria, bowl of lukewarm pasta in hand.
He was eager for a chance to get off his feet. He hadn’t even gotten the chance to shower yet after the chaos of the afternoon mission, and after all that cooking, he was ready to sit.
The dining room contained a couple dozen round tables, enough that there were always several empty ones even when everyone came to meals since most chose to cram in together with their friends a single table.
Large windows on the far wall peered into the cosmos. It was one of the best places for viewing the galaxy as they traveled, though right now all he could see was the rush of color associated with hyperspeed. They were making their way to the Astral Highway, the interconnecting wormhole system which allowed travel throughout the galaxy within a matter of days compared to the years hyperspeed would take to complete such a journey.
The majority of the crew were Kremel, a towering species with skin that varied from the dark green of a forest to the gray of storm clouds and was hardier than leather. The most hair they grew was at the top of their heads, black and short, bearing resemblance to fur more than anything.
The males had single pointed ears and the women double pointed. Technically the men were shorter than the females, but all Kremel were well over six and a half feet tall so it wasn’t a very marked difference. The men made up for their lack of height with extra width. Overall the Kremel were the strongest and toughest of the four species within the Cinder Rock Galaxy Collective.
The next largest group within the crew was the Nemarians who were nearly equal in number to the Kremel. As an amphibious species, Nemarians were far more delicate in nature, their scaly skin requiring a high percentage of humidity to keep them comfortable. They were the easiest to tell apart in gender since all males had orange scales ranging from neon to burnt while the women had purple scales that could be as light as lilac or as dark as twilight.
Nemarians had a set of gills on the sides of their necks which represented an especially weak point in their biology, but they did have legs similar to frogs which allowed them to spring great distances or heights with ease, and their webbed feet and hands gave them a huge advantage when swimming. In place of hair, they grew fins on the tops of their heads, ranging in color from indigo to pink to maroon. They also had fins on their forearms and their calves which helped in aquatic situations but were of little use outside of the water. They were shorter than both Humans and Kremel, but they outperformed both in tests of speed and agility.
Nemarians and Kremel had long since taken up the top two positions as the most populous species in the galaxy, changing places for number one every few decades. Humans always lagged behind, making up only a fifth of those in the Collective. Humans were in an odd position where they were tougher than Nemarians, but softer than Kremel, so they typically handled odd jobs that didn’t fit either species.
While political divisions and tensions existed between the different species in the government, Runner ships were different.
Not quite pirates, the Runners held some type of hierarchy with rank, but in general there were only a few guidelines ships had to obey when they joined the group. Typically, a Runner ship was assigned (or in a few cases, battled for and won) a territory somewhere within the galaxy where they would handle whatever jobs people wanted to pay them for, some legal, but many not.
The Argo worked out of a sparsely populated territory out in the Juno sector normally, but a recent job had required them to travel much closer to the core sector, Gemini, to fulfill the client’s needs. The Argo was actually one of the few ships within the Runners which had a Human captain, Captain Boni Tave.
Counting the Captain, there were only five total Humans on board, and Lus was really only friends with two of them.
Thinking of his two pals, Lus noticed Becky and Oaty sitting at a table in the center of the room with Zer-Dasht and Yrqw, engrossed in conversation. He might have been able to squeeze a fifth chair in, even with Yrqw’s size, but the past few weeks he’d given up trying to socialize at mealtime.
Instead, Lus chose a table in the corner, all alone and reasonably far from the crew who were still eating. The last thing he needed right now was the stress of everyone reminding him just how much he sucked at cooking.
He had been so excited about the soup, so sure it was a success, but now he found doubts creeping in. Nobody besides Nippy had said anything about it, so he didn’t know if the crew was having a positive reaction or not.
As to why the crew put up with him as cook, he still wasn’t sure. After Captain Tave gave him the assignment, he’d been sure that it would be a temporary arrangement, and yet the Captain gave no hint as to when or even if he was going to seek a replacement chef for the ship, leaving the crew to suffer whatever monstrosities Lusac produced at dinner and Lbrvr at breakfast. Then again, if this turned out poorly, it would be him on breakfast, which sounded like a living nightmare with the earlier hours and the extra time required in cleaning up.
“Lusac!” Someone shouted, drawing his attention away from mindlessly swirling his pasta and back to the dining room.
It was Wsr who’d yelled for him, but every set of eyes was on him. Taking a breath, Lus prepared for the usual onslaught of criticism accompanying meals.
“Nice job. It’s actually edible for once,” the Kremel said as a wide smile showed bits of food stuck between her jagged teeth.
Several others offered something akin to compliments, and Lus almost wondered if this was a prank. Did they just wanted to get his guard down before the real fun began?
Yet no mockery came. Those who didn’t have any praise for him, simply said nothing at all. Lusac ducked his head and muttered some kind of thanks. He continued dragging his utensil through his food until he was sure no one was watching him.
Then, hesitantly, he raised a spoonful of the dish to his mouth. It tasted as good as he remembered and he felt his shoulder relax. Wsr and the others were right. This wasn’t terrible for once, even if it was a little cold, but that was a side effect of him getting his serving late rather than a chef’s error.
A notification popped up in the corner of his vision. It wasn’t exactly a screen, rather just a little block of text accompanied by a dinging noise.
[Quest Complete: Cook Something Edible]
The eagerness surrounding the idea of having his very own system returned in full force, and he wanted nothing more than to summon that blue screen and gain his rewards, but the satisfaction of having finally made something worthwhile after all his wasted hours in the kitchen encouraged him to take a little time to enjoy the meal he slaved so long over.
Before he knew it, he’d downed his entire helping, and as he stood to get more, he realized that others had also gone for seconds. There was no more to be had. The crew had liked it enough to actually finish off everything, something that had never happened with his other attempts at cooking.
“Got anymore in back?” Cewi-Bano asked from behind him, holding a clean plate. Crap, the third-in-command hadn’t even gotten any.
Lus shook his head. “Nope. Sorry. I made the usual amount which normally leaves a lot of leftovers. I didn’t expect it to go so fast this time.”
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The Nemarian flipped the plate round and round. “I suppose it’s been a while since anyone had anything decent to eat so the vultures picked it clean.” She sighed. “I’ll guess I’ll just grab something from the interbox.”
“Yeah. Okay. Sorry again,” Lus muttered, trying to decide if he was hungry enough to risk the sketchy leftovers. The interbox was full of–
The interbox! What if Cewi discovered Leviathan? The crew would freak out if they knew Lus had a Demon downloaded into the interbox, and who knew how they’d react if they found out Lusac made an actual deal with the being.
“Cewi, wait,” he cried out, rushing to grab her thin, purple scaled arm.
The Nemarian glanced back with questioning eyes, and Lus could feel the stares of everyone else in the room.
“I might have something better. Let me run back and see what I can scrounge up for you,” Lus recovered. He wouldn’t be able to keep people from the kitchen for long, not with his usual duties tying him up in other parts of the ship, but if he could get Leviathan to agree to keep hidden, then there wouldn’t be a problem going forward. For now, though, he had to keep his Demon to himself.
Cewi-Bano shrugged and then stepped to the side so Lus could walk into the kitchen alone. The mess from cooking remained, but before he fulfilled his pledge to find something better than leftovers for the third-in-command, Lusac went to the intermediate nitrobox.
“Leviathan,” he whispered, unsure how much his voice would carry into the dining room just beyond. “Leviathan, this is important. I need to talk to you.”
The red face lazily rolled its way onto the holoscreen. “I’m not giving you any hints about the system. I told you to figure it out yourself.”
A jolt of annoyance shot through him, but Lusac pushed it away. “Which I’m doing just fine. But that’s not what I want to talk about.”
“What is it, dimwit?”
“Other people come into the kitchen sometimes. I need you to keep hidden when that happens. You can’t let them find you.”
Leviathan rolled his eyes. “Obviously I’m not going to show myself to any imbecile who wanders in here? How stupid do you think I am?”
“Well you can’t be all that clever given you’ve spent millenia locked into a freaking USB drive,” Lus replied in anger, giving up on keeping quiet.
The face disappeared suddenly, but before he could scream at the Demon to come back and fight like a man, the delicate voice of Cewi sounded from behind.
“Everything alright, Lusac?”
Lus spun to face the Nemarian, plastering a grin on his face to hide the frustration and embarrassment. “Yeah. I was checking Wlnp’s recipes just to see if there was something fast I could whip up for you. Sorry, but I didn’t find anything. I guess leftovers are your only option.”
“Don’t worry about it. I can suffer for one more day. At least, I’m assuming we’ll get that pasta again, right?” Cewi’s voice made it clear that it was more of an order than casual conversation.
“Yes, ma’am. Pasta again tomorrow. Though I fear I’ll need to do some ingredient shopping if I’m going to keep up with these kinds of high-quality dishes.”
“High quality is maybe a little much, but I’ll speak to the Captain. Our next stop will be at a well-developed planet in the Gemini Sector so if you can have a list for me by tomorrow, I’ll make sure you get everything you need,” Cewi-Bano said.
“Thanks, Cewi. I’ll be sure to do that.”
“Now about those leftovers.” The Nemarian gently pushed Lus to the side and opened the interbox, digging into the massive amounts of burned mush left behind from the past few days.
Lus assisted her with finding one of the more edible selections. Once she had the hodgepodge that was supposed to be a mixture of rice, meat, and veggies, she dismissed Lusac.
“I can get this heated up. I’m not normally one to worry so much about hygiene, but Suns, Lus. You need a shower. Get out of here before you stink up my meal worse than it already is.” She waved one hand to shoo the boy out of the kitchen and into the hall.
As much as he worried about not being in the kitchen when someone else was in there, his desire to clean up and figure out the quest side of his system far overshadowed it.
He sped through the corridors and ladders of the Argo, eager to get a little privacy for the first time all day. Part of him wondered if it would be a good idea to convince Leviathan to let him move the Demon to his personal computer in his quarters, but the other part remembered that comment about hearing everything in the room, and the need for privacy won out.
At last, Lusac arrived at his door. One of dozens in the hallway, it was only distinguished as his by the number “37” above the door. He scanned his thumb print–old tech that Runners used in place of id chips since most of the older crew no longer had them–and the door slid open to reveal the mess he called home.
It took a few seconds for his eyes to adjust to the lighting which was set to a normal level for Humans unlike the rest of the ship. His quarters were made up of his combo living room and bedroom while a small closet constituted the bathroom. A personal holoscreen started up once he entered, displaying the latest scores of the fights from Rushtar.
The small bed nestled in the corner was unmade and still had his pajama pants on it. The couch, as beat up as the rest of the furniture, was positioned to be right in front of the screen. A coffee table supported by three legs and an old box held miscellaneous articles he never got around to putting away. The desk under the single window was tidy at least, but that was more from lack of use than anything else. Still, regardless of the state, it was good to be back.
Lusac sighed, taking in the smell of his poor habits and flopped on the couch which wasn’t quite as long as he was tall. Given his only slightly above average height, it was really the couch that was lacking.
He unzipped the front of his uniform and relished in the new found freedom to breathe without the tight, damp alunitanium fibers pressing into his sternum. After all the hours he’d been stuck in the mission suit, he’d forgotten how uncomfortable it actually was. His boots came off next, adding a new odor to the air that he was too lazy to care about, and after the removal of his belt, Lusac was finally settled in for a nice evening of nothing.
Normally he’d turn on a gladiatus match, but today he had something far more exciting to do than watch two warriors pummel each other to the dirt. With a thought, a blue screen appeared in front of him containing the homepage of the system with all his personal stats.
Lus had already investigated the [Nearby Stats] and [Recipes] tabs, so he turned his attention to the next one: [Quests].
There were three options on the screen, each with a drop-down menu.
[Active Quests]
[Available Quests]
[Completed Quests]
The [Completed Quests] had a little red exclamation point next to it so Lus tapped that one first. The only one in the list was [Cook Something Edible], the one he’d just completed by “making a meal the crew didn’t hate.” As insulted as he was by such an incredibly low bar, he was also a bit grateful it wasn’t something harder.
The reward was [100 XP], which combined with the [50 XP], put him at a pretty [150 XP]. While Lus wasn’t an expert in systems, he was sure that was a decent amount for only having had his system for a few hours. He clicked the button next to the quest title, and a new notification popped up in the corner of his vision informing him of the gained reward.
[XP Gained: 100]
[New Quest Unlocked!]
[Name: Movin’ On Up]
[Description: level up]
[Time limit: None]
[Reward: 100 XP]
“Let’s see what’s next on the menu.” Lus chuckled at his own joke and promised himself he’d remember it next time he was in an appropriate situation.
[Active Quests] contained the new [Quest] so Lus went to [Available Quests] in hopes of getting a little more choice in his next task. Unfortunately, it was completely empty so all he could do was focus on [Movin’ On Up].
“Well how close am I to leveling up?” he asked as he tapped back to the homepage. Underneath his class was info about his level.
[Level 1]
[Lifetime XP: 150]
[Current XP: 150]
[Level 2 XP Requirement: 200]
“What’s the difference between [Lifetime XP] and [Current XP]?” he wondered, but no answer came. Not that Leviathan would have told him anyway. But at least he was more than halfway to his goal.
Lusac chewed his cheek a bit as he stared at the screen. The only way to gain [XP] was through [Quests] or cooking, and since his next [Quest] required leveling up, all he could really do was wait until it came time to cook again.
With the excitement of the system weaning and the smell of his socks burning a little more in his nostrils, Lusac gave up lounging to do as Cewi-Bano originally ordered and take a shower.
The small square bathroom barely contained the toilet, sink, and shower. Sitting on the toilet he could wash his hands in the sink or just as easily turn the knobs in the shower, but at least it was private, which is pretty good for life on a starship.
The hyper-shower had taken a few months to get used to since his homeworld of Treft still used traditional water showers, but when dealing with long journeys in the vacuum of space, water couldn’t be wasted in such ways. Instead, the hyper-shower used blasts of air combined with some type of cleansing liquid to wash a body. It was far more effective for Nemarians than the other species, but given the economic features, it was still the norm for all ships.
All that really mattered to Lus is that it got him clean. And between a warm shower and full belly, he was already starting to feel drowsy. He stepped out into his room in only a fresh pair of underwear, pulled his pajama pants on, and fell into the mess of covers on his bed. He was asleep almost immediately, with dreams full of cartoon red eyes and maniacal laughs. It was early morning when the comm system beeped, dragging him back to the waking world.
It was Zer-Dasht. “Lusac, come in. I’m in the kitchen, and we have a big problem.”