Chapter 3 part 3

###Cooking is Just Controlled Molecular Chaos

Using every containment unit I could muster—stasis pods, quantum buckets, and deep gravitic pans—I began the long process of purging toxic particles from the Void Crabs.

Over the course of several solar cycles, I cycled the purification fluids again and again. It was an ordeal, even with my force-enhanced endurance. A nearby matter replicator would’ve made it far easier, but alas, I was left to manage in the dimly lit corridors of the station.

The youngest colonist on the habitat module seemed enamored by the crabs as they gleamed under the artificial lights, their bioluminescent shells casting mesmerizing patterns on the walls. Despite their eerie appearance, they had an odd charm.

When I came to collect the crabs this morning cycle, the kid looked at me with wide, pleading eyes, as if silently begging, *You’re not really going to process them, are you?*

Sigh. What choice did I have? “Fine,” I muttered. “You can observe them. But sanitize your gloves if you touch their exoskeletons, alright?” Sometimes, raising colonists was harder than navigating asteroid fields.

“So, you’re actually making sustenance out of these Void Crabs?” Aioi asked, her eyebrow raised.

“Yeah. Thanks for waiting,” I replied, unloading the final purified batch.

“Waited so long, I had time to run a salvage mission through the asteroid belt.”

The Void Crab dish had been meant to cheer her up after our disastrous fishing expedition, but judging by her calm demeanor, her mood had stabilized on its own during the several solar cycles it took me to process the crabs. Did my grand gesture even matter now? Eh, whatever. Better than me spending all that time in cryo-sleep.

The station’s communal food prep bay was quieter than usual when we arrived. It was a spacious zero-gravity area just off the bustling trade hub, with plasma cookers neatly arranged at regular intervals. Each one ran on power cells and could be rented for a modest credit fee. Convenient, though the fluctuating artificial gravity always made cooking an unpredictable venture.

A few station residents were already there, stirring massive quantum pots of nutrient soup destined for market stalls. The shared molecular reconstructor hummed softly in the corner, efficiently cleaning utensils between uses. This was where meals for the station’s diverse population were born—a chaotic symphony of interstellar cuisines.

“Oh, Mr. Narwhal, please take these.”

“Hm?” I glanced at the small box Aioi was holding and blinked in surprise. “Space turkey eggs? Where’d you get these?”

What Aioi handed me were some fairly rare eggs in this station. Three of them.

“Picked them up from an agricultural biodome on my way back from yesterday’s mission. Consider it an apology for the whole void fishing... incident.”

“Didn’t I tell you not to worry about that?”

“Yeah, but I still feel bad…”

“Just accept it, Mr. Narwhal,” came a voice from behind.

"Oh, Yunikon's here too."

I turned to see Yunikon, one of the station’s more enigmatic spacers, floating over with a quantum pot in her hands.

“Yunikon’s joining us too?”

“Of course. Never had Void Crab before. Figured I’d help prepare it. That okay?”

“Sure, the more, the merrier. Told Aioi to invite anyone off-duty anyway.”

The crabs, their translucent shells glowing faintly, were mid-sized but plentiful—far too much for just Aioi and me to consume alone.

“That’s a lot of equipment,” Yunikon noted, eyeing my assortment of tools. “Did you haul all this gear with you?”

“Mr. Narwhal has everything,” Aioi chimed in, shaking her head. “His quarters are practically bursting with gadgets and gear.”

“Relocating between stations must be a nightmare.”

“Not everything’s useful,” I admitted. “Just things I pick up during impulse buys at spaceports.”

"First, we must neutralize the Void Crabs' defensive energy shields. Then, purge them thoroughly of contaminants and strip away their bioluminescent carapace. We’ll need all three of us to handle this properly."

"Understood."

"Aioi, how do I bypass the bio-electric barrier? It’s destabilizing my grip."

"Here, grip at the joint seams—right where the energy field weakens. See?"

"Ah, got it. Thanks."

As expected of a seasoned deep-space hunting crew member, Aioi moved with precision, her every motion fluid and decisive. She neutralized the crabs' neural systems without hesitation, ran their shells through the decontamination field, and removed the armor-like carapace with ease.

"Place the internal organs and carapace into the matter recycler," I instructed, holding out a containment tray. "And extract the enzyme paste—use this bowl to hold it."

"Wait, you’re salvaging all of this?"

"Of course. This crystalline substance here—it’s not unlike Void fish plasma. Extract it, too, and check for eggs if any of the females have spawned."

Aioi absorbed the instructions quickly, her hands moving with the cybernetic precision of someone accustomed to dismantling xenofauna. If anything, her efficiency rivaled my own. Perhaps even exceeded it. Not that I’d admit it outright.

"Why such a convoluted process, Mr. Narwhal?" she asked, casting a skeptical glance my way.

"You’ll understand once it’s finished... though no, probably not until you actually taste it."

"A dish I can’t comprehend by observation alone feels... unsettling."

"Yeah, unsettling sums it up," I replied with a shrug.

Honestly, watching the process was more than a little concerning—even for me. But I couldn’t help it. I wanted to savor their reactions when they saw the final product.

“Alright, the majority—basically the entirety—of the process begins now! Engage!”

“Knew you’d say that.”

“A quantum-forged pot... Stars above, it’s heavier than it looks.”

Ideally, I’d use a molecular reconstructor for this stage, but lacking one, I had to make do. Improvisation was the name of the game.

“First, we’ll add the prepared crab parts to the pot.”

“They’re still just dissected... it doesn’t look like much.”

“Now, with the matter compressor—slam! Another one—slam! And one more—slam!”

“By the nebulae!?”

“This is food preparation!?”

“Yes. Where I’m from, almost no one does it like this, but it works.”

“Why is it so... violent?”

“Hey, if you prefer the station’s food synthesizers, feel free to use them.”

Undeterred, I continued compressing the crabs with my modified matter manipulator. Unlike the standard model, mine was built for precision molecular breakdown, augmented by my own enhanced strength. Although now it looks like Old Earth large mortar and pestle, kinda lame I know...

Under its force, carapace, appendages, and even dense claws were crushed into a shimmering molecular paste.

“When the mass reduces, keep adding more and compress again!”

“This is... chaotic brute force!”

“It’s turning into some kind of cosmic sludge...”

“Your turn,” I said, handing the manipulator to Aioi and Yunikon. “Break down the molecular structure completely.”

“Y-Yes... but what is this becoming?”

We took turns with the manipulator, steadily reducing the crabs into their purest form. Though the others tried, neither had the strength to compress the material properly. Inevitably, I had to take over for most of the molecular breakdown.

Carapace, flesh, bio-fluids—all of it melded into an iridescent bioluminescent slurry.

“So, uh... space sludge?”

“Definitely cosmic sludge.”

Yup, that was cosmic sludge, all right. Silvery, faintly glowing, with suspended fragments of shell that sparkled like starlight. Strange matter, yes, but not without purpose.

“Wait... is this some kind of banned xenomatter?”

“He insists it’s food preparation.”

“Starting to think I should return to my quarters...”

“Hold on! Nearly done—it’s almost ready!”

The crucial phase began: I strained the crab suspension of impurities and transferred it into a quantum pot over the plasma forge. Carefully maintaining the forge’s heat, I watched as the mass began to transform.

“Something’s rising to the surface...”

“You’re right. Space debris?”

“Not debris. It’s... part of the reaction.”

“What kind of reaction?”

“Anomalies keep appearing! Shouldn’t you filter them?”

“This is how it’s supposed to look.”

“It’s still bubbling sludge!”

“It’s not sludge! Here, crystallized sodium—disperse it!”

I scattered the sodium crystals over the bubbling matter and watched the transformation unfold.

“Whoa, what’s happening? It’s stabilizing!”

“The mass is becoming semi-transparent... Mr. Narwhal, what *is* this?”

“Honestly? I have no idea.”

“You don’t *know*? You created it!”

“Sometimes that’s just quantum mechanics for you.”

In truth, it was likely the protein molecules restructuring with the sodium crystals, but the science behind it didn’t matter here. The results did. Even if I understood the theoretical physics, explaining would be too bothersome.

“Now, keep the plasma forge running while I mix the enzyme paste with the Space Turkey egg compound. Calibrate the sodium balance... and it’s done!”

“Unbelievable...”

“The space sludge... it turned into sustenance?”

The dish—known across the scattered galaxies as **Nebula-Ko Soup**—was complete. A pure, reconstructed Void Crab soup. Ideally, I’d have used Andromeda sauce or a stabilized enzyme compound, but the sodium crystals had done the trick.

“It’s... actual soup! The aroma is incredible!”

“My olfactory sensors are signaling heightened appetite responses!”

“Then let’s eat,” I said, ladling the luminous soup into the bowls. “Welcome to authentic xenogastronomy.”

We each took a bowl, and I took my first bite. The rich, briny flavor of the crab, enhanced by the sodium’s crystalline structure, was perfection itself.

“Ahhh, amazing. It’s perfect,” I murmured, though a small part of me lamented the absence of Andromeda sauce.

“Mmm! This ish sho good!”

Aioi’s response sounded suspiciously like an old uncle, but her delight was genuine. And so, another culinary adventure in the void was complete.

Amidst the chaotic decontamination and chatter of the younger crew members, I found myself wondering: Was I becoming their veteran cook? Preparing meals for these bright-eyed explorers?

“Ughh, I’m at maximum capacity... but it’s so *delicious*.”

“This has far exceeded expectations! I never imagined Mr. Narwhal was such a skilled xenogastronomer. Lunar would...”

“Lunar would what?”

I paused. Cooking isn’t particularly difficult—not if you have the ingredients. Just the ingredients... molecular seasonings... and the tools to manipulate matter at a subatomic level. That’s all I need. That’s everything. And yet...

“I’d choose Void Crab over Void Shrimp with this recipe any day,” Yunikon said.

“Oh right, you harvested the crabs from the frozen lake on the moon, didn’t you? That must’ve been thrilling. I’d love to try it myself!”

Yunikon’s eyes gleamed with curiosity—she’d taken the bait.

“Yeah, tractor beams for everyone next time. We’ll go void fishing again once the stellar winds shift in our favor. Maybe try gravitic lures this time so the beams don’t snag on space junk. Oh, and of course, we’ll coordinate with Diana’ duty roster before setting out.”

“Yay! Aioi, let’s wear our enhanced environment suits for the next fishing expedition!”

“Uh... yeah... sure,” Aioi replied hesitantly, though a flicker of excitement betrayed her attempt to remain composed.

And so, as the last fragments of bioluminescent shell were cleared from the workstation, the lively chatter faded into the rhythmic hum of the habitat module. The food preparation cycle had concluded.

**Nebula-Ko Soup.** A dish built on the synergy of Void Crab and crystallized sodium—its simplicity made it a recipe that could easily transcend star systems, adaptable to the ingredients and technologies of countless spacefaring cultures. Yet as I looked at the shimmering broth, I couldn’t help but think: this wasn’t groundbreaking. Not revolutionary. More like... rediscovering the culinary traditions of the first wave of settlers who braved the void.

Still, it had been ages since I’d tasted quantum-stabilized Space Turkey egg. Somehow, its flavor seemed richer here, in this system. Perhaps it was the local synthesis matter... or perhaps spatial drift had subtly altered my taste receptors. As I pondered, a familiar voice broke the stillness.

“Waaaah! Mom neutralized my crabby!”

Back in the habitat module, it seemed the station administrator had processed the Void Crab I’d gifted earlier in the cycle. The little colonist looked crestfallen, clutching an empty containment jar. Poor xenofauna. But this is life in space. Bit by bit, young settlers learn what it takes to adapt to the void.

And me? I’ll keep cooking. One dish, one cycle at a time.

Author’s Note:
Void Crabs: harvested with care, purified through alchemical torment, then pulverized into molecular goop for soup that probably violates a few interstellar food safety codes. But hey, it tasted amazing, so who's complaining? If you’re wondering whether this entire process was worth it for a single meal—yes. If you’re wondering whether I’d do it again—also yes, but next time I’m bringing a forklift and a therapist. Also, no one tell the kid what happened to her “pet.” She’ll find out eventually. Probably during digestion.