When Dolce had first doled out the field rations for this trip, all of the hoplites had refused to take any, which he hadn’t ever realized was a possible outcome of that exchange. Usually, most people would rather not go hungry, and yet they were adamant in their refusal. Somewhere in the midst of insistence and counter-insistence, Galnius asked why it was so important to stop for a meal when they were due to launch any moment. What he had called rations, they’d taken for an entire meal.

Can you imagine? What must the Imperial chefs be doing over there in the Armada? How badly could they be mangling their food that it didn’t even look like food anymore? If this was their first time with decent food in the field, oh, they would be in for a treat.

You see, food? Food comes from ingredients. To make bread, you need flour. To make a salad, you need vegetables. But, what if you want croutons in your salad? Why, then you’d need bread, wouldn’t you? Bread, which was food, is now an ingredient again, and you’ve made something altogether new! With a little time, a hot surface scraped clean, some oils and herbs, why couldn’t field rations be the same way? Taking a little from everyone’s pack - and a double portion from their own, for Liu Ban had nothing to give - Dolce served up a steady supply of toasted sandwiches and freshly-sauteed fixings, enough for mortal and god alike. In no time at all, everyone had food, company, and good cheer in plentiful supply.

Incredible, wasn’t it? Crashed on a forgotten planet, hunted, without knowing how they were to carry on, a little good food made everything a little better, didn’t it? Not. Well, not perfect, but still better, yes?

...it could still be better, though. Galnius hadn’t let plate or cup so much as touch the ground they shared with Liu Ban, and some of the other hoplites were starting to follow suit. Vasilia was laughing at everyone’s jokes, so long as everyone never included Zeus. Lord Hades hadn’t laughed at all, and to tell the truth, Dolce hadn’t seen him eat even once, even as sandwiches disappeared from before him. But no matter how things were, they’d be better with full bellies. That much, he was sure of.

Now then; was anyone ready for seconds? Thirds? Refills on drinks? He had a few powders on hand that could make even a canteen of water all the more delicious and refreshing. He did not sit with the rest, nor at all really. His post was at the makeshift stove, and he would man it faithfully. Too much to do to sit, too much to do.