Zeke had one goal: lay low. No rebellions. No councils. No sacred llamas.
He booked a quiet stay in Sector N9-K, a backwater orbital station famous for one thing: its total irrelevance.
It was perfect.
"I just want to eat, sleep, and maybe figure out why Bitty's glowing again," Zeke mumbled.
Bitty responded by vomiting a holographic lasagna recipe.
Tess, who had insisted on tagging along "to keep him from accidentally starting another religion," sighed, "You're trending again."
Zeke froze mid-bite.
...
Before he could protest, the station lights dimmed. A booming voice echoed:
"CONGRATULATIONS, YOU'VE BEEN SELECTED FOR GALACTIC GRUB: CELEBRITY EDITION!"
Spotlights hit Zeke.
A crowd roared.
A stage rose from the floor with chrome counters, floating utensils, and a sentient spice rack named Gordon-AI.
"WHY." Zeke whispered.
...
The host—Flambérax-7, a flamboyant android with chef's hats for shoulder pads—descended with flair.
"Our first contestant: The Neon Ghost! Hacker, prophet, and now... chef?!"
Zeke was shoved behind a prep station. Tess had popcorn. Bitty donned a tiny apron.
Contestants beside him included:
A tentacled pirate who only cooked with explosives.
A noblewoman from the spice empire who threatened her ingredients before using them.
And a former assassin droid now dedicated to baking pies.
"Round one: Create a dish that represents peace across galaxies!" Flambérax shouted.
...
Zeke looked at his station. One ingredient: llama milk.
"Of course," he groaned.
With absolutely no clue what he was doing, he panicked and poured the milk into a blender with hot sauce, cereal, and something that looked like a telepathic fruit.
Bitty zapped it. It turned purple and started humming the Interstellar Anthem.
Flambérax wept.
...
Judges tasted the dish. The pirate's exploded. The noble's was declared a war crime. The assassin droid's pie triggered an existential crisis in Judge #2.
Zeke's dish?
They said it reminded them of their first kiss, a distant sunset, and universal understanding.
Flambérax wiped a tear. "You win this round, Neon Ghost."
Zeke blinked. "I was just trying to make cereal."
...
Later, Tess leaned over. "You're going to the finals."
"For what?"
"Diplomatic cooking. You're representing Earth."
Bitty projected a chef's hat onto Zeke's head.
Zeke stared at the camera drone hovering near his face.
"…Help."