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Quarters -Attn Ensign Kastarak and crewman Sega'a-

Posted May 31, 2022, 9:58 p.m. by Ensign Todd "Shocker" Applegate (Communications Officer) (Christopher Logan)

Posted by Ensign Kastarak (Doctor / Counsellor) in Quarters -Attn Ensign Kastarak and crewman Sega’a-

Posted by Ensign Todd “Shocker” Applegate (Communications Officer) in Quarters -Attn Ensign Kastarak and crewman Sega’a-

Posted by Ensign Todd “Shocker” Applegate (Communications Officer) in Quarters -Attn Ensign Kastarak and crewman Sega’a-
Posted by… suppressed (10) by the Post Ghost! 👻
As the ensign sat down about 1600 in his quarters. He had asked that Ensign Kastarak comes by and helps him with things in the mess hall. He just started to get everything set up and what not. He is happy to have friends to talk to, hang out with. He was super happy.

Ensign Applegate

The door chimed, and in came Kastarak.

“Good afternoon, Mr Applegate. Are you ready?”

– Ensign/Doctor Kastarak

“Hello doctor. Yes I am.” He said

Ensign Applegate

“Very good,” replied Kastarak. “I will call Mr Sega’a and tell him we are ready to come by and help him.”

Kastarak touched the communicator, [o]Sega’a, this is Kastarak. I have rendezvoused with Mr Applegate and we are ready to come to the location that you have procured for this afternoon’s and evening’s culinary activities. Please advise.[o]

– Ensign/Dr Kastarak

Sega’a scrambled to the commpanel when he heard Kastarak’s voice, very nearly knocking his collection of pots and pans from the countertop.

[O]Hey Kastarak! I’m in the galley attached to the private mess…[O] he glanced around for the nearest entry point [O]…you can come through the main doorway. I’ll wait outside for you.[O]

— Sega’a, Chef

“Shall we Kastarak. We can take what we have here and take it with us.”

Applegate

“Let us depart,” Kastarak replied and led his colleague (and new-found friend) to the closest turbo lift.

“Deck 2”, was the order Kastarak gave to the lift.

– Ens Kastarak (dr/cns)

As the turbolift squealed to a halt at Deck Two, its doors peeled open to reveal a burly Orion man in standard reds and a tattered purple apron with mismatched patches to cover decades worth of wear and tear. He didn’t seem to mind them. In fact, there was a broad grin on his face that suggested he was excited to show off his prized possession.

“Kastarak, Todd! Always a pleasure,” he extended his arms and swung them to a nearby door, “come. I prepared drinks and a few appetizers to snack on while we cook. I hope you like artichokes.”

Why was this man always so loud? And why did it not bother Kastarak? It confused me, had any one else behaved like Sega’a, Kastarak would have attempted to restrict his time with that person to the bare minimum, but Sega’a just kept intriguing Kastarak more and more. The way he talked, showed emotion, moved around – it looked so liberating. Is this what unchained channelling of happiness looks like? Sega’a did not appear as if he was putting on an act. This was him, surely. Hopefully, in time, he would learn to understand this anti-Vulcan as much as he could, and perhaps they would have things to learn from one another.

Sega’a bimbled to the private mess and stepped aside, gesturing for his friends to go ahead. Inside, they might notice a table set for three with Orion cutlery and dishware from his private collection. They, like his apron, showed signs of age. Sega’a appreciated antiquity and the stories it brought, but he did not mention this to Kastarak and Todd as his ‘antiques’ were as natural to him as synthesized forks and spoons might be to them. They were tools—beautiful ones, at that.

“It is remarkable that we have been given leave to use this room tonight,” commented Kastarak as he looked inside. It looked to Kastarak what his human friends would call cozy. It was odd seeing Orion cutlery on the table – he had never seen those before and was not sure how to use them, but he had dined with various species and cultures and varied forms of eating. He had learnt that simply following the lead of the host would be the most energy-efficient way to avoid embarrassment. Though, as a Vulcan, he reminded himself, he did not feel embarrassment. He meant of course, to avoid disrespecting the host and the host’s culture.

Somehow, Kastarak had imagined there would be Vulcan cutlery – but what did Sega’a know of Vulcan customs? Kastarak had not even used such cutlery since leaving New Vulcan four years ago. So it was logical that when an Orion is host, dining would be done the Orion way – whatever way that would be, the rest of the evening would tell.

“This mess is empty more often than not,” Sega’a shrugged. “I usually serve the Captain his meals wherever he is, and the Department Heads tend to do their own thing. It is only during diplomatic events or the occasional gathering that I see this room host more than a bedraggled officer looking for a quiet place to eat. You don’t hear much up here.”

“So… before we do anything, how comfortable are you both with cooking?” He asked. “Are you more ‘give me a knife and I’ll julienne your carrots’ or ‘I prefer watching the broth so it doesn’t boil over’? No judgement, I just want to make this as enjoyable as possible for all of us.”

— Sega’a

Kastarak was unsure was “julienning” meant, but he assumed it was a way of cutting it.

“I am trained in surgery. I can handle knives.” Kastarak said, “but Vulcan food does not include carrots. This was an evening for Vulcan cuisine, was it not?”

Kastarak felt an emotion of disappointment rush over him. He had looked forward to pure Vulcan food – or as much purity as it could be with the not-too-many species of herbs and vegetables and fruits that had been planted outside Vulcan by the time of the destruction of his planet. All that biodiversity, gone. All that skill in preparing the food, in picking out the right maturity of the fruits and vegetables, local to his province, that he would never see.

He looked down, zoned out for a moment, thinking of the pain of the loss of his culinary culture. Food is the way we think and behave. Meals are the way in which culture is carried. He had not thought about how moving this evening would be – and it had not already begun.

Moments later, he looked up, took note of the emotions, decided he would meditate on them at some other point, put a lid on the emotions, returned to a state of full serenity.

“Oh, rest assured… it is only a figure of speech,” Sega’a extended a tempered smile, “we have plenty of plomeek root on hand and a number of spices and broths. Though, I must regretfully admit, some I had to synthesise. Our inventory has dwindled some since we left the space dock and we are due for a resupply—” he grimaced at the thought of artificial ingredients, “—I hope it doesn’t completely ruin the flavour.”

Ngokav chased away the hint of a frown that threatened to touch his lips. He refused to let the synthesiser ruin their meal, even if it had a particular affinity.

“Mmm, then we’ll put you on chopping duty.” He glanced at Kastarak’s hands, relieved to find they were of a similar size to his own. That would make his knives easier for the good doctor to handle. “Todd,” he turned to the other man, “how do you feel about fire?”

“How do I feel about fire? Well like I said I came from earth but also Vulcan, so I don’t know. I’ve kept my emotions bottled up.” He said.

“Bottled-up is not the Vulcan way. We purge them. Have you had difficulties purging your emotions? Perhaps I can help? Or perhaps the Vulcan way might be incompatible with human neurology. I have never thought of it. What is experience?” asked Kastarak. He was curious, and he spoke to Mr Applegate in a fashion that Kastarak would have spoken to another Vulcan. Perhaps that was the most respectful way – yet he understood immediately after saying what he had said that for a human, this question might be intimate and emotionally difficult to answer.

“Are there aprons for us as well?” he asked, pointing at Sega’a’s well-used apron.

– Kastarak

“Oh! I almost forgot.” He ushered his friends into the attached galley and gestured to the rack where two aprons hang. One was a blue-grey with five-toed pawprints making a bee-line up the front, and the other was yellow with some kind of cactus or spiny bush on the pocket. Both were somewhat worn, though not so much as Sega’a’s, but in good enough shape to last the evening.

“Take your pick,” he smiled, “I’ll get stuff ready.”

— Sega’a

“Just so you know I do not do cooking, I use my replicator rations. That’s why.” So I don’t cook anything.” He said.

“Have you never cooked, Mr Applegate,” asked Kastarak curiously. Kastarak hadn’t cooked much either, but he did when he was a child, before the destruction of his homeplanet…

Kastarak looked away, reexperiencing the viviv memories of the destruction of his planet…

Ensign Applegate.

-bump-

– Ensign Kastarak (doctor / counsellor)

“Oh please Kastarak Me. Cook. As someone who grew up on Vulcan, I don’t cook. I don’t believe in cooking. I’m sorry.” He said.

Ensign Applegate.


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