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Stygium
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"You betcha boss!" Scrump swung out into the main access corridor, jogging along the passage. He grabbed a door jamb, literally swinging into a small kitchen area, complete with a small cooking and cutting station. "Lessee." Scrump opened the cold-storage, pulling out a couple of freeze-dried Bantha steaks. "Wow, you look after yourself, eh boss?" He dropped the steaks into a defroster, setting the cooking station and pulling a knife. "Right... You didn't bring any spices, did you? Never mind, I got some... somewhere..." He dug in a hip pocket, withdrawing a small container of a grainy spice, just as the 'froster finished. He snatched the bantha steaks, and, with a speed unusual in a sailor, sliced and spiced each steak perfectly. Flash-broiling the food with the cook-station, he spun with a ready made meal. "Top grade, eh sweet'eart?" He paid no need to the natural nickname for every woman he'd ever come into contact with, passing her a plate and taking another to 'Mystery Man' in the cockpit. "Here, eat. I ain't promising it ain't poisoned though."
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