“I don’t get it, Tim. Top-level clearance, two years’ training, intensive psych profiles and an eight year journey from Earth, and you’re doing what? Catering?”
Tim scratched his stubbled chin and flipped the burger on the grill. “What’s to get? Folk gotta eat. Don’t matter the planet.”
“I guess,” Darly muttered. “But wouldn’t you rather be doing something else? Spacewalks? Cartography? Robotics?”
Tim shrugged, and placed the burger on her plate. He watched her as she took a bite, as her eyes lit up and she gasped with pleasure.
His hand brushed the bio-sample jar in his pocket. “You’re welcome.”
Author’s Note: We always seem to focus on the space adventurers – but someone’s got to do the cooking and take out the bins, right?