Layton sat in a cramped prison cell aboard an Alliance Police ship, glancing at the "meal" that had just been delivered to him.
The food, if it could really be called that, was just a multicolored slop.
Certainly, it was nutritious and would provide a person with the necessary calories they needed, but its taste was far from good.
"I don't consider myself particularly, picky, but I certainly won't be eating this." Layton grumbled as he pushed the tray away.
Frankly, he missed the accommodations on the mercenary vessel that he had been held on for a few days.
They had not had enough room in their brig to hold everyone, so he had been placed inside a room meant for crew members instead.
Certainly, he had been locked in there, but it held a decent bed and a desk he could sit at.
The food had been better too.
It had come out of at least a decent autochef, even if the capsules used were of low quality.
