In a Pickle
Posted on 20 Jan 2025 @ 8:10pm by Lieutenant JG Montgomery Vala & Nesh Saalm
Edited on on 21 Jan 2025 @ 1:34pm
1,936 words; about a 10 minute read
Mission:
Episode 20 - Reconstruction
Location: USS Galileo-A - Deck 2, Galley
Timeline: MD06 - 0930
[ON]
He stood in a dimly lit room, the metallic walls cold and featureless. The oppressive weight of their architecture pressing in. A single door hissed open, and cowled figures stepped inside, their faces cloaked in darkness, the glint of something sharp stark against the sterile light.
Vala tried to move but found his legs rooted to the floor. White hot pain burned across his cheek. His knee throbbed. The figures stepped closer, their silhouettes blending into the suffocating shadows. From behind them, a second door opened, revealing a woman who was all too familiar to him.
"Why did you leave us, Rh'vaurekorn?" Her voice echoed with betrayal, her gaze piercing through him. The use of his true name, one he had long abandoned, sent a shiver down his spine.
"I-" He struggled to form words, but his voice was silent. The room closed in further, the walls shifting like an encroaching predator until...
--
Vala woke up with a start, dragging gouts of air into his lungs, his respiratory system straining under the pressure. He grasped the edge of the bed to steady himself, his knuckles slowly turning white as he attempted to find his centre.
It had been some time since he had been afflicted by such dreams, but it seemed the events of the past week had begun to open up old, formerly well contained, wounds. He had few allusions about the likely cause - his anger and frustration in the previous evening's meeting had stirred up some complicated feelings no doubt. And now he had shore leave stretching out in front of him...
He shook his head and got up, preparing himself for the day as he ordered his thoughts. Dreams were... disposable things. They had no meaning. Just fragments of things of the past that no longer held sway. One cannot control what haunts in the night, of course.
After a short amount of time he was ready for the day. Lacking much else he had donned his uniform, but had no real agenda. He left his quarters and found himself heading to the Mess Hall, the need for sustenance evidently putting him on autopilot.
There was typically little to look forward to there. Despite the echoes of the past and whatever else lurked there, he had never found Federation cuisine particularly palatable. Well... that was not quite true. The pok tar Sera had introduced him to at the banquet had been pleasant enough. But that had been a small exception to a most significant rule.
Upon arrival he took a bowl of matter labelled 'oatmeal' and sat down. This strange sludge was ground up grain as far as he understood. It was like someone had taken gletten and removed all that was good from it. A victory for calories over good taste.
Still he had to eat so he did. Spoon after spoon the bowl diminished. Echoes of his dream danced around his brain with each morsel. The bowl, ultimately, lay empty before.
Elements he needed a distraction. A problem to solve.
He glanced down at his bowl. Yes. A problem. A problem indeed.
He pushed himself up from the table and strode with some purpose towards the galley, disappearing inside as the doors slid open before him.
Here, a lone green chef worked diligently, an array of dishes in various stages of preparation. Vala waited, ensuring his appearance went unnoticed until he cleared his throat just loud enough to draw attention.
Nesh was chopping vegetables for the salad bar, as she moved in time to the driving beat of the music being transmitted to the discrete earbuds. Normally she blasted the music, but lately she kept the volume low enough to be able to hear what was going on around her. She heard the sound of someone clearing their throat and spun around, still holding the butcher knife with the control and ease of someone who was well familiar with such a weapon. "Generally the crew doesn't come back here. What can I do for you, Lieutenant...Vala is it?
Vala gave a small nod, "Yes..." He frowned a little, having been put at a disadvantage, "Have we been introduced? Did we... encounter one another in the temporal aberration? If so I confess I do not recall you."
"No. We haven't been introduced...and I don't remember much of that, ah...weirdness, but it's a small ship, and I work in the 'heart' of it. I learn all sorts of information. Oh. Of course; I'm Nesh." Nesh smiled and saw the Romulan's slight frown. They were secretive people, and she guessed he wasn't to happy at her knowledge, even as mundane as she considered it.
She reached out a grabbed a towel and wiped her hands. "You didn't answer my question...what are you doing back here?"
"Well, greetings... Nesh," he said slightly awkwardly, "It is a credit to you that you are so familiar with the manifest - few make such efforts."
He glanced around the very active kitchen then laid his eyes upon the Orion once more, addressing her question, "I came back here in the hopes of finding a chef... you I suppose... and seeing if they were sufficiently talented and inclined to prepare something that would better suit the Rihannsu palate." He shifted a little on the spot. "I do not find Federation food particularly... agreeable."
Nesh blinked and looked down at herself. She was wearing an apron that had a male Orion's body printed on it, nipple piercings and codpiece included, and then back to the Romulan officer. "Chef? Ah. Well..." She didn't know what she was really, although after the head clonking she had been taking this cooking stuff a little more seriously.
"I know, Lieutenant Vala. Most of it sucks. Not enough seasoning. Look. I follow the recipes in the database. There is a set menu - you don't think the illustrious Captain would want the crew to have delicious fare to tempt the soul, do you? I suppose I should be thankful that she has allowed me to cook real food for you all versus just sacking me and making you guys eat replicator sludge." Nesh shivered at that thought. What was life if it wasn't enjoyed? "Uh...what do you want me to do?"
Vala glanced at the apron and slightly raised an eyebrow before looking back to Nesh. Icons of virility, while unusual aboard a Starfleet ship, were not uncommon amongst his people. And as he understood, Orions were even more... culturally predisposed to such things.
"I am hoping to solve at least one problem today, Nesh," he said in an earnest tone, "Much has gone on that has been beyond my control. This has vexed me, so I have resolved to try to solve a problem that is possibly within my gift."
He gave her a resolute look before continuing, "I would like there to be a Rihannsu option on the day-to-day menu. Please tell me how I can facilitate this possibility."
Nesh blinked and tilted her head slightly. "Ah...I mean, I'm here for all the meals...I can make you something special if you like...but I don't have any Romulan spices or foodstuffs...or recipes. Do you have a cookbook or something?...and more importantly...what's in it for me?" She smiled softly and leaned against the steel counter behind her in what she hoped was an enticing pose...and only after a brief moment realized she was still wearing the apron that hid her own figure and showed off a far different physique than what she held. Damn.
"A cookbook?" He repeated, unable to avoid glancing at the Orion man on the apron. It was one of those situations where it possibly could have been better had less been left to the imagination. "I believe some exist in the archives - the lack of spices and foodstuffs are the issue though. Federation replicators are quite... crude. They do not manage to reproduce the nuance or refinement of Rihannsu produce."
He looked back up to Nesh's eyes. "I believe a skilled chef or someone with... imagination could recreate the flavours. Or perhaps there is someone aboard Regula who has access to a more complex replicator..." He trailed off, realising he had not truly thought his expedition to the kitchen through. "I do not wish to be demanding, I apologise."
"You are being demanding, but I understand. At least I get wing slugs shipped in quarterly." Nesh looked thoughtful for a moment. "Let me see what I can do. I have a cousin who deals in holoprograms...maybe he can get a hold of a Romulan replicator program that could supply raw ingredients. I promise nothing and guarantee even less...but if I do this for you...you owe me."
Vala cocked his head to the side slightly, not having expected quite such a forthcoming response. He was not particularly familiar with Orions but he had always heard they were inclined towards making connections wherever they went. Evidently Nesh fit into this archetype.
"That would be kind of you, Nesh," he said sincerely whilst giving her a small smile. "For any effort at all I would consider myself in debt to you, as you say." He bowed slightly in acknowledgement. "Though I am unsure what I can offer you in return."
Nesh smiled as her mind came up with a number of ideas...which were shot down. The scientist didn't come across as the adventurous sort, so a different strategy might be needed. For what end exactly, she wasn't sure, but it was never bad to have someone owe you a favor. "I'm sure we will be able to hash out something acceptable when the time comes. I'll see what I can do. I already have to reach out to my cousin regarding holoprograms for a 'bachelorette' party. I might be able to get him to give me a bulk discount or something." Ha! Likely not. she thought internally.
Vala gave an appreciative nod, but found curiosity getting the better of him. He raised an eyebrow slightly, "What sort of holoprogams?"
"Oh." Nesh responded, surprised that he would ask. "Mimi is having a bachelorette party. I'm arranging it and need some specific holoprogramming to make it really...memorable. I'm thinking of a spa program with masseuses. I'm sure my cousin will have something that will fit the bill."
"Memorable..." He repeated, a small smile on his lips. One could only imagine the sort of spa programs that had to be sought outside of the official Starfleet library. "It is good to have connected cousins, I hope he will provide you with something fruitful."
"That's the hope, anyway. One never knows with Kruhd. It's a crapshoot dealing with him. He should have some Romulan stuff though. Might be spendy, but I have my ways...like threatening to flatting his face, perhaps."
"It's often a rather effective incentive," he continued to slightly smile, "If you require, I can cover the expenses. I am grateful for any efforts and... face flattening done in my name."
"If it ends up being more than I can easily cover, I'll come find you." Nesh said with a warm smile. "Besides, I can always expense it to the ship; it's important for crew morale to have fare that is somewhat enticing."
[OFF]
=====
Nesh Saalm
Sous Chef
USS Galileo-A
[PNPC Sera]
&
Lieutenant (JG) Montgomery Vala
Deputy Science Officer
USS Galileo-A