"Now then, let's talk business."
Professor Stein wiped his mouth with a napkin and let out a satisfied sigh.
Beside the empty plates, his assistant Emulgand scurried about, refilling everyone’s tea. In the engine room, where the sweet aroma of French toast still lingered, the professor tapped at his handheld terminal, projecting a holographic star chart into the air.
"The destination for this fieldwork mission is here," he said. "The Xeno-Mist nebula sector—a frontier region several thousand light-years away from Techne Prime."
A red dot blinked on the map. It was a patch of deep space so remote it wasn't even detailed on standard navigational charts.
"This sector is choked with high concentrations of electromagnetic gas and shifting debris belts, rendering conventional sensors useless. Several research fleets have been dispatched there in the past, but they all retreated without a single scrap of data to show for it. Consequently, there is a high probability that an untouched ecosystem remains."
The professor enlarged the map.
"It is whispered that a unique ecosystem thrives within those gas clouds. And standing at its very pinnacle is... this."
An image of a fish appeared. But it was no ordinary aquatic creature. Its streamlined body shimmered with a metallic luster, and it possessed fins that looked suspiciously like propulsion units.
"The interstellar migratory fish: the Star Tuna. It is a massive species that swims through the void of space, growing large by filter-feeding on interstellar matter and gases."
"...A fish that swims in space?" I asked, leaning in.
"Precisely. My hypothesis is that they possess a specialized layer of fat that protects them from cosmic radiation. This layer is highly likely to be a superb energy source—or, to put it in your terms, an exquisite cut of fatty meat."
The professor’s eyes gleamed with a predatory light.
"Since they are raised in a vacuum, there is no risk of parasites. Furthermore, organisms that inhabit the vacuum of space are far more resilient than those bound to the specific environments of a planet."
"Meaning, if we can manage to breed them, they could become a new, stable food resource for the galaxy, unaffected by planetary conditions. Our objective is to hunt a specimen for sampling and verify its value as a resource."
I see. So, basically, we’re going deep-space tuna fishing.
The scale was massive, but the job itself was straightforward.
"Additionally, I have been entrusted with a task from Varna," the professor added.
He opened another window, displaying a blueprint for a drone with a bizarre, unfamiliar design.
"It is a new autonomous observation unit she developed. Her message was: 'I want to conduct durability tests in extreme environments and calibrate the sensor sensitivity. Since you’re heading into a hazard zone anyway, bring back some combat data. And don't forget the verification data for Lucia’s new sensors.'"
"...She certainly knows how to keep people busy."
It was the price for the surgery. I didn't exactly have the right to refuse.
"However, the problem lies in the journey itself," the professor said, his expression hardening. "The route to the Xeno-Mist sector is far from safe. We will be passing through a lawless zone where the Regular Army’s patrols never reach."
He turned an inquisitive, piercing gaze toward me. "I would like to confirm something beforehand: what is the extent of your combat experience? If there is any doubt, I must apply for a budget to hire an escort fleet. Otherwise, a lone transport ship loaded with expensive experimental equipment is just a target waiting to be picked clean."
It seemed that while he acknowledged my skill as a chef, my ability as a guardian was still an unknown factor to him.
"I’m a Silver Rank mercenary," I replied. "And I’ve upgraded this ship’s armaments quite a bit."
"Ranks are mere ornaments. I want to hear about actual combat. Have you navigated restricted sectors before? What was the largest battle you've participated in?"
"I wouldn't call it a restricted sector, but I did come through the conflict zones near Ignis to get here. As for the scale of battle... let's see."
I thought for a moment, then gave him the honest truth.
"It was over a period of less than six months... but I once stood my ground alone against a pirate fleet, including two cruisers, and wiped them out."
For a moment, the room fell into a heavy silence.
Emulgand nearly dropped the teapot, and the professor reached up to adjust his glasses. Stein looked back and forth between Lucia and me, then let out a long, weary sigh.
"...Less than six months? Two cruisers? By yourself?"
"Yeah. Well, I had luck, the terrain, and Lucia's support on my side."
"...I cannot even begin to calculate the odds of such a feat, but I have at least understood that you exist entirely outside the realm of common sense. Very well. I shall trust you. An escort fleet might only end up being a hindrance."
It seemed I had passed the test. The professor cleared his throat to compose himself.
"However, this mission will take time. Between the round trip and the survey itself, we will be out for several weeks. I will provide the preservation containers for the Star Tuna samples, but we cannot pack our daily meals into those."
The professor pointed a finger at the meager refrigerator in the kitchen module.
"With your current equipment, you cannot maintain the fresh ingredients necessary for a long voyage. If you are to be my 'exclusive chef,' then equipment capable of proper food storage is an absolute necessity."
"...That’s a fair point."
He was right. My current DIY refrigerator only had enough space to cram in some harvested bean sprouts—the heat-resistant ivy. If we were stuck eating nothing but dry rations and canned goods for weeks, the professor’s mood would tank. At the very least, I needed a commercial-grade refrigerator and freezer. A commercial freezer... what a beautiful sound.
"What’s the plan, then?" I asked. "I doubt I can find proper cooking appliances on the general market in Techne Prime, right?"
"That is correct," Lucia chimed in, pulling up data. "This colony’s distribution network is specialized for high-level research materials. Consumer-grade kitchenware—especially appliances designed for traditional heat-based cooking—is almost never seen on the market."
"There is no need to worry," the professor said. "If it is a refrigerator you need, I have an old-model sample freezer that was being used in my lab."
"Is that okay? It sounds like it'd be expensive."
"Indeed. But I shall let you have it. Models equipped with freshness preservation fields involve tedious disposal procedures. To be honest, it was just taking up space in the warehouse and causing me a headache."
The professor shrugged, but a mischievous smile played on his lips. Regardless of the excuse, he was throwing me another lifeline. He tapped the star chart and added a new waypoint.
"The freezer is empty, however. The high-quality ingredients I showed you earlier cannot be obtained on this colony. And I imagine you have other tools you require?"
"Yeah. If I can't do anything but sear and fry, it takes the fun out of it."
"In that case, we shall make a small detour. A few days' journey from here via hyperdrive is a commercial colony called 'Freeport Nova.' As the name suggests, it is a hub where all manner of goods converge. You should find your cooking utensils there."
The professor stood up. "Head there first to restock your ingredients and upgrade your kitchen. I will have the costs covered as research expenses. Since we've saved so much on escort fees, I won't let the audit department say no."
"Understood. It’s a huge help having a generous patron."
I suppressed the grin that was threatening to split my face. This was a fantastic turn of events. With a patron like this, I felt like I could go anywhere.
Before the tuna fishing could begin, the kitchen needed an upgrade. I had a high-performance freezer; now I just needed the food to fill it and the tools to cook it. My dreams were finally expanding.
"Alright, course set! Next stop, Freeport Nova! Set sail!"
At my command, the Sperm Whale’s thrusters roared to life. Leaving the silver city behind, we steered our course toward a new adventure.
This old guy is way more useful than I expected.