This is an automated archive made by the Lemmit Bot.
The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/arclightZRO on 2024-10-17 18:39:06+00:00.
“And how about this one? Rabbit?”
“That one is… ok. Not great. A bit too wild for me. Unless you cook it in wine, I guess. Then it’s not too bad.”
The Monomon looked at the screen above their heads, then over at the man sitting in the corner “It’s extinct as well?”
“Eh.” the man shrugged.
Kehs stared at the human for a moment. Marque’s eyes were wide open, nearly unblinking, staring into the distance. He looked back at the screen and flipped through a few more entries, asking about the status of a more Terran flora and fauna. Nearly all were extinct, somehow the only things that remained were insects and rodents. His breath caught in his throat when he saw a picture of the Norway rat, and he quickly scrolled to the next entry.
“You called this meal ‘steak and potatoes’, but potatoes have been extinct for many lifetimes.” though Kehs enjoyed the meal, he was doubtful of it’s authenticity. “And you never told me what steak is made of.”
The human picked a tiny fleck of food from his teeth. “Cow.”
The tall thin host squinted one of his large eyes “Also extinct, no?”
“Eh.”
“That is hardly an answer, Marque. These things you bring to me don’t seem to exist any more. So either they are long expired cryogen, or they are vat-”
“Do you want food? Or a history lesson?” Marque replied, refocused his gaze to Kehs’ face. “I got what I got, and it’s legit. No vat grown crap here.”
Kehs was going to apologize for assuming, but was interrupted before he could speak.
“You had fresh bread with butter, a medium rare fillet mignon, quartered and roasted potatoes, sauteed asparagus, traditionally brewed wheat beer, and a raspberry tart. All real, all prepared fresh before we came over. I told you this is the best we have, if you don’t appreciate that, I can head out right now.”
The background hum of Kehs’ ship was the only noise for a moment as they stared at each other. Kehs let out a slow breath, vapor curling from the edge of his nostrils.
Marque narrowed his eyes before speaking “Zahn said you were looking for high quality Earth food. This is it. I know because I have tried all of it. Beef, gator, chicken, peas, beans, squash. Even ice cream! It’s all real earth food. Best quality on this side of the rift, and the other.”
“How does-”
“Not getting into the details Kehs.” Marque looked genuinely annoyed. “I have everything you requested and a few of my own favorites ready to transfer to your cryogen, and I have two more stops before I head back home at the end of the month. I thought you would be appreciative of some real good shit, since you’ve never actually had proper Earth food.”
A small chirp broke the following silence, drawing Marque’s attention to the square tattoo on his wrist. He read for a second, before flicking away the notification.
“The prices you quoted us,” Kehs started.
“Are what? Twice as much as you were expecting? Of course they are, and this is still a good deal because you’re a good friend of Zahn.” Marque leaned forward. “You had a taste, you know what you’re about to miss out on.”
Kehs was silent for a few minutes, contemplating the cost of the food and how long it would last for him and his three ship handlers. He cleared the display on the overhead screen and stared at the stars through an exterior camera. He could see the human ships at the edge of the viewing field.
Marque looked at his wrist again, tapped at a flashing icon, then made a swipe gesture in the air. “Time to decide Kehs. I got shit to do.”
Kehs never understood the use of slang that the humans liked to use, and it always caught him off guard.
“I rather do like the butter.” he managed. “It goes well on the bread.”
The man laughed “My friend, it goes good on everything. All the good Earth food has butter in it or on it! Even your steak was rested in butter before serving!” Marque already knew he had a sale, he just needed to make the delivery.
“If you appreciate the meal we prepared for you, we can provide a full set of recipes for you to use, no charge. You could make fresh from-the-cryo Earth food each day and never have the same meal twice. And next time we meet I can bring a different variety, and another set of recipes. I can even bring you real frying oil and an autofry, and make those potatoes into something amazing.”
Kehs pressed an indicator on his datapad and the item list popped up. He scrolled to the very bottom, and slid his finger across the biostrip.
Marque smiled as the tattoo on his wrist flashed purple and white. He tapped at it for a moment, and then stood up. “Shall we oversee the transfer?”
The human and the Monomon stood at the airlock and watched several large crates come through the transfer tube. As Marque’s crew turned to walk back to their ship, one of them handed a bottle and two small glasses to Marque.
“One last thing Kehs.” he said, as he placed the glasses on top of the first crate. “A toast.”
“Toast? Bread in a bottle?” he looked closely at the square glass container.
“No, a drink, to celebrate our new friendship.” Marque pulled the cork from the bottle and poured some brown liquid into each glass. He handed one to Kehs “Bourbon. From a friend to a friend.”
Kehs could smell the alcohol as he brought it near his face. Marque hoisted his glass above his eye line and then down to his mouth and drank it in one gulp. Kehs repeated the gesture. The flavor of the drink was quite unexpected, and as he lowered his glass he found himself lost in thoughts of days past. His attention snapped back to the current moment. Marque smiled at him.
“You like it?”
“It is… intense, and complex. I do like it.”
Marque picked up the bottle and handed it to Kehs. “It’s yours. Let me know if you would like more. Carry well, Kehs of Monom.”
Kehs was once again surprised at the human, this time for his use of a Monomon phrase.
“Carry well, Marque of Terra.”
Once Kehs sat in his control room again, he ruminated on his meeting with Marque. Such a strange creature he was. Uneven temper, in a hurry, yet seemingly relaxed and unbothered by the passage of time. Demanding, yet giving.
He gestured to his ship handlers to try the bourbon. “Drink with care, fellows. It is not to be trifled with.”
His steerman had a smile on his face as they sampled the drink. “Bourbon? Humans are full of surprises, aren’t they?”
“Have they departed?” Kehs inquired.
“Yes, they are beginning their acceleration burn.”
The crew watched the main view screen as the three human ships moved away from the meeting point. One was a large twin hulled conveyance with oversized engines, apparently named the “Miss Budweiser”. The other two were escort ships, also with disproportional engine sizes. One named “LeMans”, the other was “Talladega”.
His steerman spoke up again as the three ships rapidly accelerated and became nothing more than a tiny point of light “The humans sure like to name their ships strangely. I wonder what-”
Alarms rang out before his sentence could be finished.
“Incoming ship from astern! 185 meks and closing fast! Very fast! Brace for impact!”
The mystery ship had to be traveling at sub-light barrier speed, and was bleeding monstrous electromagnetic waves of various frequencies. As it closed on their position, the ablation shields of the Monomon ship squealed with interference. The intruder blasted by them so close that the shields of the two ships slid along each other, buffeting the Monomons like a leaf on the ocean.
As it tore past them, the cameras caught a single blurry image frame of a crisscross color scheme down the length of it, then it was gone.
“Identify that ship!” Kehs yelled.
“It appears to be a human vessel, named the Copperhead.”
A picture appeared on the main screen: a long spear of grey with brown and gold scales painted down the length. Two long red energy lances protruded from the front of it.
“Full power, head us down rift toward Ceacure, fast as you can please.” One look at the Copperhead was enough to convince Kehs that it was a hunter ship. His worry about the origin of his provisions was elevated, but he found that his concern for Marque was surprisingly higher. “Cancel order, let us follow them and see if Marque needs assistance.”
His steerman altered the ship’s heading before replying “We will not catch them unless something catastrophic happens. I would think that his escort craft can handle the situation.”
“You are correct, but I would like to offer help if they need it. Buttered beef is delicious.” the last sentence was supposed to stay within his own mind, but he realized he said it aloud.
His crew exchanged glances, but remained silent.