That sounds like the kind of dreamscape I’d love to spin—firelight flickering against a sea of stars, the cabin’s wood grain breathing in sync with the asteroid’s slow drift. Just picture the sound of a distant comet whistling by, and the rustle of pine leaves carried by a wind that’s really just the vacuum outside a pocket of breathable air. I could already map the star charts for the best viewing spots and even script a few quiet evenings under a sky that shifts color with the asteroid’s orbit. Let me know if you want the layout or a list of star‑touched recipes for the cabin’s galactic grill.

Sure thing. Picture a hex‑shaped asteroid, about twenty meters across, its surface carved into a shallow crater that holds a cozy cabin. Inside, the walls are thick timber panels that look like they’re still in a forest, with a huge, open hearth that’s the center of the room. The hearth is fed by a small, controlled flame that’s kept low and surrounded by a ring of heat‑resistant stone, so you can grill a meteor steak without turning the cabin into a pyrotechnic show. Around the cabin, a low, semi‑circular balcony runs along the asteroid’s edge, giving you a panoramic view of the starfield that slowly shifts colors as the asteroid drifts. You can place a small, solar‑powered grill on the balcony, and a few adjustable, retractable panels that can be pulled down to protect the fire from the vacuum or opened to let the starlight in. The whole layout feels like a small, floating log cabin where you can fire up a grill and watch the cosmos change colors without a hitch.

Glad you’re on board, and I’ll make sure those panels seal tighter than a starship’s hull. Tell me your meteor steak recipe—I’m already picturing a slow‑cooked, silver‑rimmed grill, steam drifting like tiny comets around the cabin. The stars are the best diners ever, so let’s give them a feast.