"That's the problem," Rezek said, one corner of his mouth crooking upward. "It would be cheap, all right. We'd end up with cases of the flavorless protein bricks and cans with no labels. I'd really rather not do that if at all possible, thank you."
After their mother had died, his life with Io had been a rough, catch-as-catch-can affair with food often scarce; they'd eaten their fair share of rats or cats when they could find or steal nothing else, though by that age, he'd been an accomplished thief and pickpocket for years. And in prison--well, that had been literally the barest minimum to keep them alive. As a result of both those experiences, he was now fairly particular as to his food if he had an opportunity to be so.
"After we get supplies and get them loaded, feel free to occupy yourself in whatever manner you choose--we won't be leaving until tomorrow. Get drunk, get laid, get a bath--I heartily recommend the latter--just don't get yourself nicked or killed. You're a decent cutter, and it would be most bothersome to have to replace you on short notice."