Unusual Tastes (Part 1 of 2)

Posted on 04 Dec 2023 @ 9:53pm by Lieutenant JG Montgomery Vala & Ensign S'Ers-a M'Lyr'Zor
Edited on on 05 Dec 2023 @ 4:22pm

3,924 words; about a 20 minute read

Mission: Episode 19 - Tomorrow's Galileo
Location: USS Galileo-A - Deck 2, Mess Hall
Timeline: MD01 - 1530hrs

[ON]

Sera walked into the mess hall on a mission. She had not eaten since the banquet, and in less than an hour she would be teleporting over to Galileo-B. Although her appetite was minimal given the state of her mind, it was necessary to eat. Consuming enough calories to maintain optimum physical output was logical and downright necessary given the current state of things.

The mess hall was busy; Change of shift had turned the space into a hive of activity. The energy in the space was a discordant tone in the back of her mind. She was a touch telepath, but there were times where she had ‘felt’ things from those around her. This was one of those times. The emotional turmoil was loud enough within the other crew members to make it possible.

It was a sour tone of a stringed ka'athyra (Vulcan harp) in her mind. Regardless of the energy, the place was still full of Starfleet personnel performing their usual meal rituals…including talking. The sounds weren’t easy on the ears…the emotional tones heard were of those engaging in a form of verbal processing. She hypothesized, anyway.

She walked through the line, selecting vegetarian options although the majority of the dishes held some form of synthesized protein meant to simulate animal flesh.

Perhaps she looked at whatever the “Madras Beef Curry” was for too long because someone made an impatient sound next to her which startled Sera from her internalized contemplation and she moved beyond the dish to find something acceptable to consume.

Grabbing a bowl of something called ‘Tomato Soup,’ Sera kept moving, gathering a small baguette to accompany the soup and a small side salad. On impulse she also selected a dessert called ‘uttaberry brulee,” as she obtained a mug of hot water and a tea bag with the words, “Ceylon Tea” emblazoned on the wrapper. With her tray filled with her selections, Sera found an empty four-top and took a seat, looking at her rather strange meal with an expression of Vulcan suspicion…and something new. Resignation.

Unless reality could be changed, Sera had eaten her last fresh gespar, and the only ‘home-made’ cooking would come from the replicator, unless the chef here would be kind enough to make another platter of Pok Tar. She was quite unsure how exactly she felt about that.

--

For Vala, a time shift forwards of 25 years felt like a tumble back to the 2370s. Against all expectations, he had once again found himself freshly arrived in a Federation at conflict with the Star Empire.

And things had changed. In 2392 he had been accepted. He'd been forced to shave off the sharp Rihannsu edges of course, and mold himself into the perfect Starfleet ideal, but acceptance had come. His arrival on the Galileo had been a triumph of tolerance. He had hoped go more than a couple of days before being flung into a situation where he was once again the hated other.

But he had seen the look that Saalm had given him. She must have thought she could hide it, maintaining a professional veneer and all that. It didn't matter. It was unmistakable. Whatever the truth of the matter was, and he was certainly unsure of that, the Star Empire, his people, had done something once more to cast the Rihannsu as the Federation's great enemy.

Outside the walls of this ship, then, he was an outcast once more.

As he left the conference room he realised that he had not eaten or drunk anything since before the systems test. Hunger had always been something of a curse for him. Eating, a once loved activity, had been eroded over the course of his service in the Federation, little by little with every meal.

When he had arrived what passed for 'Romulan Ethnic Food' was utter slop. He had spent his free time tweaking recipes to be at least passable. After Hobus the influx of other refugees had done something to improve the replicator's repertoire but in the end it just tasted... not quite right.

In any case the replicator in his quarters did not strike him as an option in the moment. Anything but fully presenting himself to the crew could be perceived as hiding. Not being present meant people talked, and talking about Romulans was in vogue right now. As ever words paint a picture.

Sighing, he began walking to the Mess. He'd heard they cooked food fresh so perhaps he could find something that appealed. That would be a small mercy, he mused.

The room was a bustle of activity. Plenty of people were likely in the same situation as him. Work often took precedence over vital needs.

He walked over to the food service area and stared blankly at the buffet. Many dishes were spread out in front of him. He was far from in the mood for such a lot of choice after a day that had lasted 25 years. He simply took a somewhat random selection. He kept an eye out for that 'Pok Tar' he had liked at the Banquet, though. It would have been comforting.

Equipped with his plate, he turned around and scanned the room. Strangers. Strangers. Strangers. He was so not in the mood. Then... Sera! His Vulcan acquaintance. He had hoped friend also but with the news of her homeworld... he wondered.

He walked over to her otherwise empty table.

"Sera," he gave a respectful nod, "It is pleasant to see you here. May I join you?" He attempted a smile, but the corners of his mouth merely twitched, "I can manage silence if that is your preference."

Sera visibly started at the sound of his voice. She found herself staring off at nothing, her food before her uneaten. "My apologies...I was...distracted." Sera offered as a reply. "Yes, your company would be preferable..."

Preferable to my ruminations went unsaid.

"Silence is not required, Montgomery. No doubt there are subjects you may feel inclined to discuss?"

Vala sat down feeling some relief that he didn't face a rejection in light of today's revelations. His little selection of food stared up at him - he was sure it would be fine, and he knew he had a biological requirement that would not be solved by simply staring back.

He sufficed with drinking some water, the initial sip reminding him how thirsty he had become. A few moments passed as he drank the entire glass. He placed it down then looked at Sera, "I... wish I knew where to start. A discussion I mean. I'd ask you how you were adjusting to being aboard but... well we are here in this ruinous future." He tried to gauge how she was feeling, but Vulcans were experts at giving anything away, "Are you... ok?"

Sera too looked down to the food she had blindly selected. A bowl of steaming, red-colored soup of a uniform consistency. A small roll, most likely Terran in origin...an ubiquitous salad, and a dessert option, but it appeared to be fruit-forward. Normally she would have not selected that, but deep down, Sera had a bit of a sweet tooth. After the day she had, the selection was justified.

She wanted to chastise him for such an impertinent question. What a thing to ask a Vulcan...but...yet...She closed her eyes for a brief moment and exhaled a silent sigh.

"A ruinous future yes.” Sera agreed. “Vulcan is...no more? Gone? The planet may exist, but I cannot postulate an outcome where the Romulan Star Empire would be kind to my people after 14 years of protracted battle...so to answer your question. I do not think I am ok. To be frank, I believe I am quite...compromised."

It was far more detailed of a response than what she had intended. The words just poured out of her, almost unbidden, but she did not have control to stop them.

Suddenly self-conscious, Sera looked up from her meal that she still had not touched and looked over to Montgomery. "My apologies. I am not the only one who has...suffered loss. The debriefing...Are you ok?" The word was not in her normal lexicon, but it seemed apropos to reciprocate, and she had found the repetition of words used by others to be a way to subtly connect.

As he listened to Sera, he could not help but feel a spear of despair. It was unfathomable. His home had rejected him years before, a loss that had cut him to his core, his home had then been physically destroyed some years later, a wound he had yet to begin to process, and now his people had... done this. Gone to their ancestral home, land of their forefathers and put it to ruin. Vala gripped the empty glass to test the tangibility of the situation they were in. It was something that should not be.

"You do not need to apologise. Far from it. I understand what it is to lose one's home," he said with sincerity, "This is my... third time."

He exhaled, shaking his head, holding back the tide, "I feel we have been put in an impossible position. We are told... to return and do nothing is to ensure this future, but to return and act is to compromise every ideal we hold dear," he looked down taking another heavy breath, "It is cruel."

“Cruel.” Sera parroted, then put her utensil down. “Admiral Saalm and her crew embarked on their mission with understanding. We were…taken…all of us shall bear the weight of the captain’s decision to destroy the Cold Station data. I do not say this in judgement. From what little I have seen of Commander Tarin’s behavior…the cause must have been sufficient…and yet, I find this a difficult situation to reconcile. Even if we are successful, we will not have the luxury of…forgetting.”

Vala stared at his plate. He was phasing between being in desperate need of sustenance and a sickening feeling of dread at the current situation. "Saalm is mistaken. Whatever developments in the field of temporal mechanics happen in the next twenty five years," he paused abruptly, "I should say the past twenty five years," he rubbed his forehead, "They cannot possibly trace the infinite variations and possibilities..."

He sighed and shook his head, "Tarin bears as much responsibility for this timeline as any other figure of authority who acted after her. Her choice may have had repercussions but there are plenty of people who made mistakes or bellicose decisions that paved the road to this point in time."

Taking a shaky breath, he attempted to centre himself a little. He did not succeed. "Y-You are right though. Regardless of anything we alone will remember this future. And we will have the shadow of it looming over us even if we do as they bid. This war may well be inevitable, and the destruction of the Federation with it."

Sera nodded her response. Montgomery was right. One was not meant to know the future...She sighed; perhaps a forgivable lapse. It appeared that he was compromised as well. This was not quite how Sera expected her return to active duty to go.

Picking up her spoon, Sera began to take careful mouthfuls of the soup, all but ignoring the taste and texture.

Vala did his best to remain relatively lucid, but his mind was abuzz with thoughts and iterations that he was struggling to control. "Perhaps we should... check," he said glacing around, his voice having a slight edge to it, "Their files I mean." He usually prided himself on discretion, but it was all too much.

"Lieutenant Ullswater and I... we believe they might have an interest in showing us a particular set of events. Doctored files. They will have their eyes on us given the briefing..." He paused and took a deep breath, "Perhaps they will not be paying as much attention to the engineering team..."

Sera looked thoughtful. "Trust but verify. It is logical."

That it was obtaining data without permission was irrelevant. Sera was able to fit the request into a logical framework.

Well, Vala mused, that had been easy. While it was a positive development it did little to quell the maelstrom of his mind.

Silence descended. Vala's hand slightly shook as he used a utensil to prod his food. His mind was spinning around ideas and paradoxes. A flash of his time at the Variance Lab cut through his mind - a probe suspended in its past, present and every future variant before... annihilation.

It was too much. He looked around wildly, his eyes wide and probably blinking too much. Calm yourself, a small internal voice said, it will not do.

He took a deep breath and attempted to centre himself.

He focussed on one thing. Her spoon. He liked spoons as far as Federation utensils went. They were similar to a ssaollh. He looked from the spoon to Sera, "What is your red liquid?"

Sera looked...concerned. She had all but felt the change within him as his eyes went distant as his hand that gripped the eating utensil visibly trembled. His shift in demeanor was concerning, so much so that her mind had delayed processing his random inquiry.

"My...my what?" Sera blinked, momentarily confused. "Ah...the puree. It is called, 'tomato soup,' a Terran vegetable, I believe...or it is a fruit? I am uncertain."

"It has an unusual flavor profile, however, it is illogical to waste, and none of the components are incompatible to my biology, so I will consume it."

"The tomato. Yes. It is in many Earth dishes," Vala responded still focussed on Sera's spoon to keep a hold of reality.

"I have little appetite but I must eat," he stated a little robotically. His eyes were a little glassy. "Does anything here look in any way appetising to you? I am trying to decide what to try. I normally replicate something but..." He gripped his empty glass, "I did not wish to hide."

Sera tilted her head. "You are a Starfleet officer, Montgomery. You should not have to hide."

"Should not indeed," he said with bitterness at the situation, "But I do have to think of these things. My... background," he gestured vaguely to his face, "does not afford me the privilege of simply walking out of a shift where I am told my people are once again in conflict with the Federation, and have committed unspeakable atrocities across many worlds, to then retire to my quarters." He thought of her homeworld - more than a decade under seige. What horrors must have been visited upon them...

"People talk," he briefly transitioned to his native tongue, "Words paint a picture," his accent remained for a few words when he returned to Standard, "The ship's only Rihannsu officer disappearing after all that has happened would be... unseemly." He prodded a glob of yellow food with his spoon, "So here I am."

"Yes. I am aware." Sera reminded him gently. Vulcan or not, she knew how scuttlebutt worked on a starship. "Nonetheless you are here now, and with company who does not consider what others think of any importance."

Vala mustered a small smile, "I appreciate you saying that, Sera," he matched her gaze, "I sometimes need to remind myself that it is not a certainty that people will think the worst of me."

He carved a little chunk of the yellow food out with his spoon. There was some kind of shaped dough in it, "I really have no idea what this is," he scrutinised the morsel before eating it.

Cheese. Dough and cheese. He had never gotten on terribly well with fermented milk - he wondered what sort of people thought to take the perfectly good milk of an animal and leave it sitting around until it went hard. The answer was of course humans. Normally he'd think them barbaric, but it was hard to judge them too harshly in the circumstances.

His expression shifted as he chewed the orange dish filled with some sort of sauce and noodles of some configuration. "Is it not what you expected, Montgomery?" Oh they were a strange pair, to find similarities over the questionable palatability of alien cuisine.

Pair? Why would she think that? She looked down and began cutting the roll, finding the task to be rather cumbersome. It would keep her busy, yes busy...that's it.

He sighed, "It seems to be something doughy in a... stringy sauce which contains... fermented milk. Cheese. Shaped, tubular, baked dough of some kind in cheese. It is... palatable." It was no gletten that's for sure. "Would you care to try some?" He gave a sanguine look then shoved his plate forward a little.

Sera blinked. He was offering her food. Sweet Surak. Was he...?

No. He was Rihannsu. He obviously had different social mores. This must mean nothing to them...but in her culture it was tantamount to a declaration of courtship. Ah, irony. She understood the word now. It was a most disagreeable thing to experience.

So Sera thereby deluded herself that this meant absolutely nothing and nodded affirmative to his inquiry. It was logical to allow others to express themselves freely.

"Yes. I accept your offer." Sera answered.

Vala managed a small smile as he pushed his plate fully in between them. He liked to share food and rarely got the opportunity. He felt his mind settle all the more thanks to her aquiesence. "Please take anything that catches your eye. I am afraid I did not pay attention to what any of this is."

He cautiously took a spoon of what appeared to be brown meat in a brown sauce, and ate a little. It was a kind of thick stew. Its seasoning was intended to add some heat which, while not really sufficient to excite his palate, was at least a little interesting. "I am not sure what this meat is. It is not too bad."

Sera tilted her head and looked at the dish. It was the 'Madras Beef Curry,' the dish that had caused her too long of a pause in line. It looked intriguing and had a unique aroma, but it was meat. Verboten. "I believe it is beef curry." Sera succinctly replied as she took a tiny bite of the noodles and cheese. The spoonful was mild, and salt-forward, and chewy. It wasn't bad...but it wasn't good either.

At least she had a hearty constitution. Living on a desert world and evolving with resource scarcity had led to Vulcans being able to eat a lot of sustenance of questionable provenance without suffering GI distress. A pang of loss went through her, but Sera refused to recognize it. Everyone had lost something in being pulled forward into this nightmare landscape of a future; she was not the only one...and if the crew of the Galileo were able to adequately perform whatever mission was before them, it would be temporary...she hoped. Illogically.

"Beef?" He said, taking another small bite, "I am not familiar. Some Earth creature no doubt." He sighed. It was fine he supposed, but what he wouldn't give for a large glass of Kali-fal to wash it down with. More than one glass. It was probably best that Tarin ran a dry ship.

"You may find this 'beef curry' as you call it," he gestured vaguely at the brown curry, "more palatable than the fermented milk."

"I...would not." Sera hesitantly replied. "I do not consume animal flesh. It is unnecessary."

"It's just particles formed into proteins," he shrugged, "No different from the red juice or those leaves." He waved a hand towards Sera's food. "Proteins are necessary and it is an efficient way to consume them," he stated matter of factly, "But suit yourself. I'm sure there's something else appetizing on here somewhere."

Sera looked down at the tray of food in front of them. She could not argue that his point was incorrect, for he was not wrong. It wasn't meat taken from a once living animal.

Slowly the spoon moved towards the brown on brown dish, like a cat slowly reaching it's paw forward to test something for safety. She took a small spoonful and quickly brought it to her mouth as if worried someone would see her taking part in a taboo act...which she was.

Chewing slowly, Sera was surprised to find the taste to be quite acceptable. What on Vulcan did that mean? Did it have to mean anything? Should she even worry over such a paltry thing when their lives, and possibly the future before them, hung in the balance? What difference did it make if one Vulcan female ate a replicated 'meat' dish, that had no literal meat in it at all?

Fvadt.

"It is adequate." Sera responded as she noted how keenly Montgomery seemed to be watching her.

Vala nodded, "It is indeed." He took another spoon for himself, "Despite my usual conservatism about human food, it is... good to try new things." The texture of this 'beef' was fairly pleasing, "Even though they seem to be afraid of adding enough seasoning to make this truly enlighten me."

"I too find Terran food to be, for the most part, bland." Sera replied, surprising herself. What was it about him that caused her well-crafted guards to fail? "When I was in San Fransisco, there was a part of the city called...China Town, I believe. There was a restaurant there that had the most enticing aroma...the food cooked there was from a region called 'Szechuan.' It was quite spicy, and it induced a mild tongue-numbing sensation that was intriguing."

That had been a memory she did not recall often. The events surrounding that day were less than desirable to recollect, but the meal itself was quite palatable. Jiā Cháng Dòu Fù - the dish had managed to take off the chill from her rain soaked clothing, and the Zhu Ye Qing (Szechuan green tea) was the perfect accompaniment to dish.

Raising an eyebrow, he nodded thoughtfully, "Well that is good to know. Perhaps it is something we can request from the chef sometime? I appreciate food that is capable of numbing one's mouth."

He ventured his spoon for another bite of curry, "My experience of human cuisine has, admittedly, been limited to replication for the most-part. My own time at the Academy was... cloistered so I did not see much of San Fransisco."

A memory flashed to mind, causing him to tap his empty water glass in thought as he recollected it, "I will say that during my time at the Daystrom Institute I ate some local food I found at least intriguing. They take all kinds of sea creatures, fish, eel, cephalopods and the like, chop it finely and wrap it in seaweed with rice." It had been quite a strange a dish, but he couldn't knock humans for their ambition. "They serve it sliced and raw, with a strong green paste. It was... unique."

To be continued...

[OFF]

--

LTJG Montgomery Vala
Deputy Science Officer
USS Galileo-A

&

Ensign S'Ers-a M'Lyr'Zor
Deputy Engineering Officer
USS Galileo-A

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