In response to my question, the Coordinator’s expression shifted instantly, his satisfied look giving way to the sharp, calculating eyes of a merchant.
"As a transport pilot, you already know that handling live ingredients is a nightmare," he said. "It's not as simple as keeping things cold. Zero-G and the G-forces from acceleration can easily rupture cell membranes. Once that happens, the umami just drains away with the drip. You need specialized gear."
The man slung his towel over his shoulder and perched on the edge of the prep counter.
"Fair enough. I have a freezer with a Class 3 Freshness Preservation Field, but the capacity is limited. I’d have to be extremely selective about what I stock."
I nodded bitterly, and the man gave me a knowing smirk. He tapped a terminal, projecting a holographic catalog into the air.
"I’ve got Interstellar Transport-Compatible Freezer Containers. I can part with two of them. They’re for deep-freezing, so while they aren't quite as sophisticated as a preservation field, they’ll keep things fresh and hold a high volume. The price—including the container cost and installation—is 2 million Credits each."
"Four million for the pair, then."
Beside me, Mina let out a sharp gasp. "Wait, four million?! That’s more than a transit fee!"
My decision was instantaneous.
"Fine. I’ll take them both. But if I’m paying four million, I want a little help with the contents to start. There's no point in me hauling empty containers around."
For a second, the man’s eyes widened in surprise. Then he slapped his knee and let out a boisterous laugh.
"Ha! I love a customer who doesn't pinch Credits! You’ve got a deal. I’ll pack them with the highest-quality goods. But Akito, there’s still a hurdle. The sweeteners are essentially chemical synthetics, so the paperwork is easy. The problem is that soy sauce."
He pointed a finger at the small bottle of Seaweed Soy Sauce that had moved me to tears only minutes before.
"That’s a fermented product involving microorganisms. There’s no risk in the product itself, but rules are rules. Transporting it in bulk triggers a 'Biohazard Response' regulation. Nobody cares about a few bottles for personal use, but once you start talking about tank-sized volumes, it's a different story. You need a Class 5 Management Qualification. It’s a simple enough course and a paper test, but you can’t take it here. That’s one of the reasons this stuff never hits the wider market."
"A qualification, huh..."
I hadn't expected regulations on fermented food. Even if the product was shelf-stable, the fact that it was the result of microbial activity was enough to label it a potential risk.
"Allow me to elaborate," Lucia added. Her voice was quiet, but the facts she presented were heavy. "The Imperial Calendar records an 'Ecosystem Contamination Incident caused by Abnormal Mutation of Microorganisms' on a frontier planet."
I turned to listen as she continued. "During the colonization of an unexplored environment, factors within imported fermented foods triggered an unknown reaction, resulting in catastrophic proliferation. The planet's indigenous flora was completely overtaken by a specific species of fermenting bacteria in just a few years. Since then, the Imperial government has applied Bio-Security Protocols comparable to military-grade restrictions on all fermented products. The ban on large-scale transport by unqualified individuals is born of that historical lesson."
A chill ran down my spine at Lucia’s explanation.
In the heavy silence that followed, Emalgand—who had been stretching contentedly—quietly raised her hand.
"Um... I couldn't help but overhear, and if that's the only issue, there’s no problem at all-uu."
"Emma?"
From the inner pocket of her jacket, Emalgand produced a heavy identification card that projected a thick, shimmering hologram.
"I am a 'Special Grade Bio-investigator,' after all. According to the Imperial Hygiene Management Regulations, if a Certified Researcher like myself is present on a vessel, any Biohazard Risk up to Class 4 is automatically permitted under their supervision. Something like the microorganisms in soy sauce is well within the scope of my special authority-uu."
Still wearing her usual vacuous smile, Emalgand casually dropped a bombshell. The Coordinator stared at the ID card, his jaw practically hitting the floor.
He looked back and forth between Emalgand and me for a long moment before finally throwing his hands up in defeat.
"Unbelievable. I thought you were just some rich guy out for a joyride, but you've got a Special Grade Investigator from the Imperial Capital on your private payroll? Fine, I’m convinced. No legal issues, then. I’ll fill your tanks with as much of our finest Seaweed Soy Sauce as they can hold."
"That's a life-saver, Emma. And with that... I believe we have a deal."
I held out my hand. The man’s palm, rough and smelling of the sea breeze, gripped mine with crushing strength.
It was a massive four-million-Credit transaction. The man didn't let go of my hand, his grin turning predatory and bold.
"You'll want to inspect the goods before we load them. I can't have a premium client like you leaving without the absolute best parts of the catch. I’ll take you to the market so you can see the 'contents' that will be fueling your journey from here on out. You should see it with your own eyes."
The man adjusted the towel around his neck and started toward the exit.