Dead Star Dockyards

"Hmmm." Petunia flicked the small knife she had picked up a second ago, the small chunks of veggie and veggie skin sliding off into the bin as though a thin film of oil coated it. She had never wielded an implement this sharp before. The best of the Broadclaw artisans could probably make something on this level if asked, but she never needed it to do her work. "Hrmm."

This quality presented a problem she never thought could exist, though. The knife was too sharp. She had little experience with tubers of this variety, but they looked and felt about the same as those on Nekh. This included the thickness of skin and density of the 'meat'. Simply put, she was having a difficult time peeling only the skin off. The knife was so sharp that the difference in resistance between skin and 'meat' wasn't enough for Petunia to do this in the same mechanical manner she usually did. She needed to focus, actively looking at the item in her hand to minimize waste.

It probably wouldn't be an issue here, where food was in relative abundance, but after years of diminishing harvests and lackluster food it had become second nature to her. She was particularly concerned about throwing away these peels, however the dish her queen had expressed interest in did not appear to have them on. She couldn't think of a use for them outside of compost either, so into the bin they went, along with the perfectly consumable chunks she failed to protect. 

"You did not have to peel the potatoes if you didn't want to. Perhaps a peeler of sorts should have been considered for the utensil repertoire."

The ethereal voice called 'Arc' spoke to her, trying to communicate something, but without Titanyana or one of the Terrans to serve as an interpreter it sounded like meaningless gibberish. Regardless, with this the first step was finished. Now onto the slicing.

She needed them to be in long strips of medium thickness, which seemed like a strange shape for a vegetable of this variety, but it wasn't like she was particularly familiar with the cooking instruments in this kitchen anyways. As for the culinary traditions of the Terrans, she knew even less. Still, a recipe was a recipe, so despite her concerns she got back to chopping.

Actually, now that precision wasn't nearly as important, the sharpness of the knife earned itself a heightened level of appreciation. Where normally she might have to put a bit of effort into starting the cut to ensure the edge didn't slip, this slipped into the surface as though it were water. The time savings weren't anything particularly noteworthy, maybe a few seconds overall, but the relative ease could be appreciated. Such a shame that the edge would dull over time . . . now where was she supposed to put these slices again? One of these drawers, right?

As if in response to her confusion, one of the drawers popped open. Not so far that it could fall out, but far enough to catch her eye. Cautiously so as not to drop it, she put both hands on the handle and dragged it out of the slot. It wasn't nearly as heavy as she had anticipated of something made of metal to be. Half a minute of sliding the strips off the cutting board and arranging them in an even spread and the bucket-thing was ready to go back into its slot.

click

Petunia stared at the otherwise uninteresting wall chock full of similarly incredible devices as a faint whirring grew in magnitude from the bucket-thing. Supposedly she had to wait a few minutes for the bucket-thing to do it's bucket-thing-thing, which was supposedly a bunch of little things based on Titanyana's confused explanation. All Petunia cared about was that it could do the job properly, and that she suddenly didn't have much to think about. Her eyes shifted downwards, to herself.

The point of denial had long since past, she was getting fat. It was a problem she couldn't have imagined having mere weeks ago, but the sudden access to an abundance of delicious food coupled with the stress of losing her one and only as well as the million other little things that came with the territory led to a ballooning in her weight. Worse, it had begun to have adverse affects. She found herself tired and fatigued after relatively minimal physical activity, and felt bloated after every meal. Worst of all was the nausea she got in the morning.

Bishop Kayes assured her such a thing was to be expected. Her body had grown used to an environment lacking in Split, and so the 'average' amount seemed massive to her in comparison, overwhelming her during the time between conscious and unconscious. He compared it to how one might get dizzy alternating between dark and light environments too quickly.

What made Petunia think that her weight had something to do with it? Well, she couldn't say that one was necessarily the cause of the other, but there was a solid correlation between weight and the intensity of the nausea. 

ding pop

The bucket-thing popped out of its slot a little, startling Petunia slightly. She obediently pulled it out the rest of the way and took a look inside. Sure enough, the strips looked a little bit browner than before. They weren't done yet though, so she shook the bucket around in accordance with Titanyana's instruction. Something about making sure they didn't stick and evenly cooked or something.

click

Petunia frowned as the whirring resumed. Despite the concern about weight, she found herself craving whatever was being made. It just smelled so good! 

"Ah, there you are." A voice from one of the entrances made Petunia jump. "Is that the air fryer? What are you cooking?"

"Uh, um. I do not remember. I apologize for my ignorance, Lady Diana."

"Arc?"

"French fries."

"French fries? Wonderful! I'd have loved to make some burgers to go along with them, but they aren't really breakfast food." Diana sniffed the air. "They smell a bit different, but close enough. I can't expect perfection on the first attempt."

"If I may be so bold, how do they differ from what you know?" Petunia wanted to know if she could do anything different to please Diana. The fate of the Nekh rested on the shoulders of the Terrans at this point.

"These smell a bit sweeter than what I remember, but not too much sweeter. In fact, there was a type of potato called a sweet potato that was often used for fries as well."

"Did you find them . . . satisfactory?" Petunia picked up on the implied lack of interest.

"They weren't my favorite, no. The texture and taste didn't really match what I expected out of fried food."

"Then I hope I have prepared these to your satisfaction."

"Don't worry about it. At this point I'm not expecting much of our unique methods of cooking given the relatively unknown ingredients. This is the perfect time to experiment and figure out what tastes good." Diana leaned back against the kitchen counter, inhaling deeply as if to savor the smell.

"Milady?"

"Yes?"

"Would it be acceptable if, um, if I assumed the role of chef? At least for the duration of our trip?" Petunia took notice of the utter lack of work for her to do on this ship. Clothes washing was handled by a strange box, the floors were cleaned automatically (somehow), and there wasn't any need for her to draw water for a bath. Cooking was really all that remained for her.

"Of course! Though I'll have to teach you how everything works."

"Y-yes, I was going to ask you for help in that regard."

ding pop

"Oho! The fries are done. I'll get the salt." Diana twirled around Petunia on her way to one of the small cabinets set aside for spices and such.

"Does something so fresh truly require salt?" Petunia removed the basket-thing from the 'air fryer' and placed it on the table. Still too hot to touch, these 'fries' were now a richer shade of yellow than they had been minutes ago. "It seems like a waste for something that will be consumed in such a short period of time . . ."

"Hm? Salt is basically a staple of our diets. Is there something wrong with that?" Petunia found it somewhat laughable that Diana knew little of salt's value. Then again, with technology such as this, was it possible that salt was simply easier to come by?

"Um, salt of any substantial purity and quality is usually something secured through great sacrifice in mines. Madam Gretts told me that even the wealthiest among nobles would have to be careful with how much they use."

"Really?" Diana appeared legitimately confused.

"I suppose it is true that even commoners may be able to secure some amount of salt in order to preserve meats, however I feel it is far too expensive to be used in such a frivolous manner." Petunia began to think that maybe she could act as a well of common sense for the couple. They evidently lacked the sort of sense for that sort of thing.

"Fascinating." Diana tilted her head, salt shaker in hand, as she appeared to drift off into thought about something. For a moment Petunia deluded herself into believing she might have made even a tiny difference in Diana's perspective on the matter, but Diana shattered that illusion in such an abrupt and nonchalant manner it genuinely surprised Petunia. She simply shook the salt onto the fries whilst shaking the bowl.

Every grain that left the metal cylinder brought pain to Petunia, the few that missed the bowl entirely bringing even more. Were it not for the total lack of emotion Diana put into the gesture, she might have considered it spiteful.

"Well, that sort of thing shouldn't be a concern to you anymore. Even if Donovan isn't prioritizing it, I imagine he will have a need to harvest elemental Chlorine and Sodium at some point. Hell, he might even set up salt production for the sole purpose of preventing goiter. Actually, he'll need salt for MRE's and electrolyte rations, so it should be on the list regardless." Diana's thoughts led her to some strange conclusion Petunia could not follow. "Though, now that I think about it, limiting the amount of salty foods might help prevent excessive weight gain and blood pressure."

"O-oh." Just as Petunia thought, this wasn't a suitable food for someone wanting to lose weight. "Um. About that weight gain . . ."

"Hm? Sure your belly might be a bit bigger than it normally is, but I wouldn't say you look fat. Being too skinny is also a problem, you know?"

"That much I understand, but as the Queen's maidservant I have an image to maintain." Petunia's tail found its way into her hands, a strange thought manifesting as it did. "Would you know a better method of losing weight besides, um, forgoing delicious food?"

"That depends on what you are willing to put up with." Diana shuffled the basket full of fries to spread the salt around, giving everything an even coat. "You could limit how much you are eating, which I think you are asking how to avoid, correct?"

"That would be correct."

"And exercise is off the table?"

"N-not necessarily, however my duties rarely permit me the time or energy to do so."

- - - - -

"What are we doing again?" Diana found the head tilts from both Petunia and Titanyana to be incredibly cute, especially as they pressed the gauze to their index fingers. 

"A preliminary physical. We need proper physiological and biochemistry data on the two of you in case of an emergency medical procedure, and so we can see if there is any way to help with Petunia's weight goals." She had given the two of them gowns, though they appeared a bit uncomfortable wearing them. It would seem that the pressure and restriction it applied to their tails felt uncomfortable. "Should we deem it a necessary last resort Arc can synthesize a metabolic accelerator for her, however I don't want to encourage reliance on pharmaceuticals."

"I thank you, Lady Diana." 

"Please, Petunia, this much is nothing." Diana tapped away at the tablet in her hand, more so looking at test results than setting anything up. "Now, if you could please lay down on the tray we can get the MRI over with and feast on those fries."

"As you wish, Lady Diana." Petunia awkwardly propped herself up on the tray before shimmying herself down into a resting position. Now that she could see it in action, the gown made it difficult to get her tail out of the way. "I-is there anything in particular I should be doing?"

"Nope, just lay still. It'll feel a little weird, but don't panic. I can assure you that this process is safe." Diana smiled to reassure Petunia, considering recounting one of her early experiences with the machines. Ultimately she decided it to be unnecessary, though Petunia's stomach did draw some attention away from this thought process.

It seemed a bit too 'stiff' for what she generally associated with fat, failing to deform outwards. Fears of a tumor or cyst immediately surfaced, however the affected area seemed far too large and was therefore removed from the list of possible afflictions. What replaced them was arguably more damaging to a woman's dignity though, and the cattle conversation is what brought it to mind. Diana suspected it might be possible that Petunia's stomach and intestines were experiencing a sustained build up of gas - chronic bloating.

Petunia said it herself, she was eating many delicious and new foods, emphasis on the 'new'. It was entirely possible that her gut's bacterial biome could not properly digest or process the sustenance she consumed, somehow creating pockets of gas that would have expanded her stomach with time. It would certainly explain her symptoms. The feeling of bloating aside, the sense of tiredness could be the result of insufficient nutrition from incomplete digestion. Combining this with a potential rejection response from undigested food building up while sleeping on her side or back, the desire to vomit could easily be construed as nausea. Most importantly, the solutions for this problem could be argued as social suicide for a lady. She could make an attempt to fart so as to clear the gas, or she could have a tube-like thing inserted into her stomach in order to release the gasses directly.

Of course, it was also entirely possible that the Nekh stored fat in a different manner than most normal anatomies. They had yet to see a fat Nekh after all. 

"Is Petunia alright?" Titanyana whispered to Diana, covering her mouth. Would it be enough to prevent Petunia from overhearing them anyways? Probably not, but she would probably understand her Queen's concern. 

"She's fine, or at least she is fine as far as I can see. Part of the reason MRI's are so useful is that we can accurately gauge the status of someone's internals without having to cut them open." Diana did not provide the same level of 'consideration' Titanyana did. "I don't even have to be the one to parse it either. Arc does the hard stuff for us."

"I see."

- - - - -

Titanyana offered a hand to bring Petunia to her feet, which she gratefully accepted.

"That's interesting." Diana seemed to mutter the words without thinking.

"What is?"

"Oh, uh, the two of you appear to be a liiiittle bit different with regard to bone structure, density, and organ size. It's nothing outside of what we might expect of hereditary and racial differences though, especially if you have ancestors that were geographically isolated from one another."

"Queen Titanyana's mother hailed from the polar regions of Nekh, and my ancestors have been tied to the capital as long as we cared to remember. Could that be a cause?" Petunia, despite her apparent concern for the matter, offered what knowledge she had.

"Definitely, however I wouldn't pin the blame entirely on that. In your own words, the Strapper line has always been special. I would not be surprised if Split has something to do with it." Diana poked Titanyana's cheek, just below those tattoos. "Of course, it could be the result of the Great Csillacra's meddling. My own anatomy was adjusted by it, so it wouldn't be a surprise if something similar happened to you."

Titanyana looked to the floor, unwilling to admit that there had been a few changes. She had confirmed both through changes in how her clothes fit and Petunia's comments that her hips and chest were a bit more shapely than they had been before, and she was almost certain that something had been done to make her face a bit different. She still wasn't anywhere close to the bombshell that was Diana, whose appeal could shine through the relatively looser and more form concealing clothing she preferred to wear on a regular basis, but she definitely felt her attractiveness had been upgraded a tad. 

A stale silence filled the room as Diana continued to read. She would occasionally wrinkle a brow or tilt her head at something before tapping away at her tablet, none of which was particularly concerning. 

"Oh my. Well this is certainly unexpected."

The expression of shock was though.

"Is something wrong?" Titanyana staved off the desire to panic.

"Well, um, hmm. How should I put this?" Petunia's hand, grasping Titanyana's shoulder for support, was beginning to sweat through the gown. Or maybe that was just Titanyana's, considering the beads threatening to form on her forehead. "Arc, are you absolutely certain?"

"Certain of what?"

"I don't want to tell you without being sure . . . really?" Diana was having a conversation with Arc through the tablet. "Really?!"

"What is it!?"

"Petunia, I don't know how to tell you this . . ."

Diana turned off the tablet and faced Petunia, ensuring she made eye contact and that she was sitting up straight, clearly buying time to think of how to communicate the news. Titanyana and Petunia both held their breaths, hoping against hope that Diana was merely yanking their chains. Diana herself appeared unnerved, tapping the back of the tablet. After a minute that felt like hours, Diana released a deep breath while the Nekh held their own.

 

"It's a boy."