"Normal-person-sized, but big for it. This is the farm that handles all of the grocery stock. For organic stuff anyway. I'm not sure how energon is treated or processed or whatever, or anything but that there's regular and then there's high-grade." It was a subject to look into, sometime, and one easy to investigate; the Cybertronians she'd spoken to---even Dirge!---were generally willing to answer whatever questions she asked, even if they were occasionally surprised by being asked.

"Oh, that's harsh. Nixing one mod, when we've agreed radiation is not to be taken lightly, and making cookies conditional so you won't weasel and I'm a fascist?" Sam clicked her tongue, turning the cookie tray to finish filling it. "You might as well call me a wicked witch and have it out. Running out of room, here; you want to pass me another pan?"

Plap.

Plap.

With space for another six spoonfuls, Sam stopped long enough to look to Hiro and nod approvingly. "That would actually be pretty cool, and also encouraged."