Rafaela glared at the plump figure on the main display screen, but that didn't stop her from pulling on her clothes and grabbing the container of hot food that the dispenser provided before she made it to the chair.
"You are genetically impaired," her ship informed her reluctantly. "And the medical pod doesn't have the supplies needed to fully repair your DNA."
She paused with the first bite still held in front of her mouth. "What do you mean? Do you mean the incompatibility between my L and M genes?"
The plump anim shrugged. "Your lifespan is greatly reduced compared to the average span for humans according to the medical system," it announced soberly. Rafaela took a deep breath, but the ship continued, "However, I think that most of the humans currently living in this system probably share the same lifespan limitation, so it's likely that you inherited it from your father."
