Not really alien, just kind of mediocre. The flush is weak. The sink spigot is some kind of glass, not metal. The toilet paper and toothbrushes and razors are all strange but recognizable. (That jar of paste might be toothpaste?)

Shit. Shaving. That's a thing. Right.

She really did not think this through.

She can probably get permission to borrow a razor. At least they have safety razors; she has no idea how to use a straight razor safely.

(She wonders, vaguely, what the toilet paper is made of.)

...there's no way she's gonna be able to continue her pills, is there.

Breathe. Breathe. She's gonna get through this. She's gonna figure something out. She's gonna get through.

She finishes, and washes her hands, and heads back to the bridge.

"Hi."

"Welcome back, o not-stowaway."

"I'm gonna wanna shave, in the mornings. Is it okay if I borrow a razor for that? Or is there some way I could get my own?"

"Ah... Huh. I will sell you a razor from our cargo at a reasonable price, to be paid when you sell that phone thing. Or if you ask Walta she might let you use hers."

"I think I'm gonna want my own in the long run, might as well be sooner than later."

"Well there you go. I think we're going to set down for the day soon. We'll clear out the spare cabin for you."

"Thanks."

"I'm not entirely happy with this situation but I expect neither are you, so there's no reason to be nasty about it."

"You've been very understanding."

"Don't get me wrong, I want you off my ship. But still, no reason to be nasty about it. And I bet Walta will be actively friendly and not just understanding. It's in her nature."

"Well. Thanks."

"I'll. Go find something to sweep."

"No need, not yet. Though if you have something to eat, I'd be glad if you made enough for three."

"Sure. I can do that."

She goes to investigate the kitchen.

It's a kitchen. There are counters, there are cabinets with plates and bowls and forks and things, there is a sink, and an oven and a stove that look like electric versions. Or something. There is a pantry and a big freezer - no fridge though. There are various raw foods, not much meat.

She's in the mood for comfort food right now. Potatoes, onions, cabbage, maybe some carrots... what is there in the way of spices? Salt, pepper, garlic?

Yes yes and yes - and a bunch of others besides.

Excellent.

The cabbage seems to be cooking slower than normal. She checks that the stove is on and at maximum heat; it is.

...Looks like this is gonna be a bit more of a stew than she was intending. She pulls out a couple of tomatoes, chops everything up into the pot, adds her spices and a little extra oil, puts on the lid, and waits for it to slowly stew. At, apparently, maximum heat.

She meant to leave the lid on, but she can't quite bring herself to stop stirring and checking every minute or two. She doesn't entirely understand or trust this stove.

...it'll probably turn out okay. Not her finest work, but the potatoes and cabbage are coming along and nothing's burning. That's good, right?

It smells nice.

Walta pops in at some point. "Aww, you're cooking for us! Sweet. Smells good. I've got to go tie the ship down though back in a few!"

...And disappears again.

She flashes Walta a smile.

She ladles the stew out into bowls. And grates a little of this hard cheese over each one, why not.

(The tomatoes didn't cook down as far as she'd hoped. Oh well.)

"Oh come on, Captain, that can wait until after we eat, it's just sitting there and I need to meet Lilith properly now."

Nick and Walta come in.

"How did you like the stove? Very light and efficient since it pulls waste steam from the boilers..."

She blinks. "Oh, that's why it cooked slower than I expected. That's clever, I like that. I think I'll get the hang of it."

"Hi," she adds.

"Anyway, I made a thing, I hope you like it." She sets out bowls and forks.

"Ah, stew. Simple. Classy. Easy to store leftovers."