Chapter 5 part 2

###Space Rations and Sinking Dreams

When the hydroponic harvest cycle ends, the prices of synthetic grains nosedive. Sounds great, right? Wrong. It just means the cost of nutrient paste and protein blocks goes down a tiny bit—not enough to celebrate. Honestly, it’s hard to be happy about any of it, considering the synthetic carbs in this sector are *terrible*. It’s not like I’m holding out for Earth rice because of some nostalgia from my mysterious knowledge of Old Earth. Martian bread? Centaurian flatbread? I’d gladly take those if they existed. But no. This sector is already a wasteland of entertainment—at least let me eat something decent.

“So, these are the portable rations you made, Narwhal?”

“Yeah. I call it the NarwhalBar Mark III.”

“That’s... just a disgusting name.”

“Maybe try something more appetizing?”

“Also, it’s already falling apart before you even stick it in a nutrient processor.”

“Hey, think about the person eating this while picturing your face.”

The scene: a taste-testing event hosted by yours truly on the guild's recreation deck. The victims—uh, I mean participants—are Burger, a plasma-lance specialist, and Julio, an energy blade user. Julio is an ex-Lunatran Fleet trooper who’s climbed high in the Silver-class ranks, almost brushing Gold-class. A real symbol of hope. I also invited Guild Station Officer Mirai, but she turned me down like a pro. Sad.

The guild's recreation deck’s air was thick with the scent of recycled oxygen and spilled synth-ale. A holographic band played jaunty space shanties in the corner, their music barely audible above the din of drunken spacers arguing over bounty payouts.

On the table sit my portable space rations, inspired by the protein bars I ate (or tolerated) in my mysterious past. These "NarwhalBars" are made of synthetic wheat protein, processed nuts, nutrient oil, artificial honey, flavor enhancers, and mineral salts—all compressed into solid rectangular bars. They resemble old Earth granola bars, just, you know, from space.

Lucky for me, Burger and Julio happened to be free and sitting around the recreation deck. I figured they’d make good test subjects.

“Hey, Narwhal. Don’t you think these are too small to fill you up?”

“With the high protein content, they might feel filling, but yeah, the size is concerning.”

“Four bars per meal, I’m guessing. Anyway, just try one first.”

“...I don’t know, man. This thing feels *hard*. Are you sure it’s edible?”

Burger picked up two NarwhalBars and knocked them together, producing a sound like ringing durasteel. A *pleasant* sound—for a rations bar, I mean.

“Narwhal, did you actually try eating one of these yourself?” Julio asked, snatching a NarwhalBar from my bag as we sat in the station's common area

“What’s with the doubt, Julio?”

“After you made me eat that dehydrated protein paste last time, my trust is... limited.”

“Hey, don’t dwell on the past. Look to the future!”

To encourage them, I generously ordered synthetic ales.

“What’s this now?”

“Buying us drinks out of nowhere is just creepy.”

“No hidden agenda. Use the ale to soften the bars. They don’t taste bad, I promise.”

“Well, since it’s free, I’ll give it a shot…”

Ignoring Burger’s suspicious expression, Julio took a cautious bite of a NarwhalBar—and immediately froze.

“It’s… hard. My teeth… can’t bite through it…”

“Did you hear that cracking sound? That was Julio’s *teeth* trying to fight the bar.”

“That’s why I said soak it in ale first! It’ll soften. A little.”

Reluctantly, they dunked the bars into their ales and waited about ten seconds. Julio pulled his out first and tried again. No cracking sound this time… but he still couldn’t bite through.

“Ngg... I can kind of nibble the outer layer… carefully.”

“How’s the taste?”

“It tastes like… ale paste.”

Ugh, I wanted feedback on the *bar*, not the ale-soaked version.

“Jeez, Narwhal, why are you making weird stuff like this? Trying to copy Commander Havoc? Everyone’s mimicking him these days, but no one’s making any real profit from it.”

“It’s the innovation boom! Besides, plenty of stations are thriving because of it.”

"I wanna get this NarwhalBar recognized as the official Lunatran Fleet combat ration." "

I said, raising my voice to be heard above the recreation deck’s din

And then use those credits to become a space café owner who just polishes glasses at the counter."

"Why does getting rich end with you becoming a café owner?"

“Well, I don’t see this NarwhalBar making you rich anytime soon. If the Lunatran Fleet adopted these as rations, their soldiers might break their teeth before they could fight.”

“It’s fine! They can just reinforce their teeth with shield generators. I heard Commander Havoc released dental shield schematics to the public domain last cycle. Problem solved.”

Burger shook his head. "But still, you made more mysterious stuff again..."

“You made forty of these things? The material costs alone must’ve been crazy.”

“Can’t say. I’m not telling unless you compliment my work.”

“How much did you blow on this project? You really overdid it, didn’t you?”

"Did you over-compress them? They're sinking to the bottom of the ale but show no signs of dissolving."

“Maybe… a little…”

In hindsight, buying materials in bulk seemed like a good idea at the time. I thought I’d finally have space carbs that suited my tastes, but no—these bars turned out harder than hull plating.

“Playing inventor is all well and good, Narwhal, but are you okay for credits? You haven’t taken many combat missions lately.”

“Don’t call it ‘playing.’ I’ve just been doing station maintenance.”

"You're still doing that, Narwhal?"

"Let's keep this station clean, forevermore."

"Is that some kind of space chant...?"

"Narwhal, you waste credits left and right. Shouldn’t you pick up some bigger jobs?”

“I don’t waste *that* much. I don’t even gamble!”

“You buy weird weapons periodically. That counts.”

“*Weird weapons*? I’ll show you weird!”

I banged my latest acquisition—a vibro-knife—on the table. It had a plasma edge so thick it glowed through the sheath.

"That just proves you're wasting credits!"

“…What even is this?”

“It’s a blade breaker—a combat knife designed to catch and disable enemy energy blades.”

What Burger drew from the sheath was my thick-bladed vibro-knife engraved with multiple long grid-like plasma channels along the side.

"You use these grid parts to disable the enemy's energy blade and then snap! Twist hard, and oh how mysterious, it can turn off the enemy's blade. The ultimate anti-swordsman weapon."

“…Does it even work?”

“Of course! Well… probably…”

"Isn't that way too big a weakness? And Narwhal, you don't accept missions against humanoids, right?"

"Getting sprayed with humanoid blood and stuff is gross."

"Then why'd you buy a weapon like this... No, Narwhal,"

Julio tested the knife’s “grid” channels with his own energy blade—one of the Lunatran Fleet’s long standard-issue models. For troops who can enhance their bodies with shield tech, the criteria for adopting energy blades is the longest possible reach to slash distant opponents rather than power draw. So the blades with the maximum length that can be equipped and carried without draining suit power are called longswords and used all over. And because of that length, the plasma field is considerable as well...

Predictably, the knife didn’t work.

“See? I knew it. This thing have barely reach against short sword, let alone anything useful.”

“No way…!”

"You can see just by looking..."

"My vibro-knife..."

“By the way, how much did you pay for this?”

“Not telling!”

As I silently vowed to use the knife for processing space boar meat instead, Julio pulled a NarwhalBar from his ale. It had softened considerably.

“Well, it’s drinkable now. Kind of.”

“Yeah? Guess I’ll just dissolve mine and call it a meal.”

"Haven't I been ragged on enough today...?"

"...If there's a good mission, I'll invite you."

"I will too if there's a chance..."

By the end of the day, the verdict was clear: NarwhalBars dissolved in ale weren’t *terrible*, but if you’re drinking synthetic ale anyway, why not just drink it straight? Truly, nothing good came out of this cycle. Unlucky cycle.