"A cargo bay in one ship looks like one in any other" McGarrety said to himself as he wandered around. He was never sure why he bothered with a wander, there was never anything to see but he hated sitting still for to long, partly as he was easily bored and also because his knees had started seizing up on him. It had become a problem when he had turned 40 and had not got any better since then. Just not enough action since he stopped serving he guessed was the main problem. 

"Guess I better see whats for fixins today" he said as he walked to what he assumed was the kitchen. As long as its not gorram fish again..... If it was fish he was going back to his bunk and would eat the blanket instead, it would probably taste better. He had found that the food on most ships was intermittently bad to indifferent, although it was better than the slop that he have had to normally have to put up with. His unit's resident cook could make finest steak taste like the grey, nutritionally healthy porridge they normally ate and with that same texture of wet paper. It was certainly a real talent.