[from
here]The cold storage was, as usual, cold. Taura stopped to make herself a second snack: several kinds of what looked like vat-meat from how even the loaves were, wrapped around some sliced cheese, like a sandwich with lighter meat substituting for the bread around the darker. She held it in her mouth as she grabbed a box of fudge ripple
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"These are meat. I'm not sure what kind, though they're not fish. The crosshatching on the big one looked kind of like fish scales, but it didn't taste anything like it, and there was no internal structure. Which either meant processing or vat-grown cultures, and there wasn't time to explain. Taura didn't think too much about where food came from if she didn't need to; as long as it was plentiful, she was happy. If it was delicious, she was downright gleeful.
She tried not to glare as Rita dropped fruit skins everywhere; too much time on space stations, where littering was almost a capital offense. It was different on planets, which seemed incapable of staying clean, but did they really need to add to it? They were in a hurry, though, so she just kept her comment to a pointed look and hopped through the open hatch.
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