Accept help, again.

The way he said 'our journey' made her skin prickle, but she couldn't fault his logic. "Fine," she bit out. "Show me how it works."

The galley was as sleek and alien as the rest of the ship, all curves and seamless surfaces. Kat ran the ship's diagnostic on the water while he worked at the synthesizer controls, and felt a small surge of relief when it came back clean. At least she could trust the basic safety protocols.

"The previous crew preferred Centurian spices," he said, fingers moving in practiced patterns across the interface. "But I imagine you'd prefer something more traditional?"

The smell that filled the galley a moment later was mouth-watering - some kind of herb-crusted protein that reminded her of fine dinners in the galactic core. Her stomach clenched. He was right about the protein sequencing; she'd have probably produced something inedible.

"The environmental controls are still adjusting to human baseline," he noted, setting two plates on the small table. "You might want to increase your fluid intake to compensate."

She wanted to ignore his suggestion out of spite, but the medical readout had shown she was slightly dehydrated. She filled a glass, trying not to watch how his scaled throat moved as he drank from his own. When she took a gulp herself, she realized just how thirsty she had been. Despite the water having checked out fine, she could have sworn there was something about it that tasted odd. It was hard to tell how much of it was just the smell of the ship. It was a strong, pervasive, almost musky odor, and it seemed to cling to every surface. She'd stopped noticing it, but inhaling the fragrance of the herbed dinner was like a reset, and after she was done, she could smell it again. Maybe she'd try to figure out how to run an atmospheric purge. She didn't want to show up in the core four weeks from now and discover that all her clothes were going to reek like this for the foreseeable future.

She ended up refilling her glass two more times during the dinner. Whatever the taste she'd noticed the first time seemed to have faded, so maybe she was just getting used to the new mineral balance.

"You should get some rest after this," her prisoner noted as she placed her plate in the autocleaner, those alien eyes studying her face. "The sleep pods are designed for long-haul comfort, but they require proper calibration for optimal function. I can show you how to configure it."