Touching Base

Posted on Sat Oct 1st, 2016 @ 12:12pm by Admiral Deela T'Lar

2,277 words; about a 11 minute read

Mission: Episode 93 - Warrior VS Warrior
Location: Section A1, Level 16, Galley
Timeline: MD1, 1930 hrs

ON:

Deela was looking at a list of those in the Chief and Assistant positions. One caught her eye so she decided that this would be the best time since everyone was on a mission of sorts.

=^= Admiral T'Lar to Lieutenant Isen. Please report to the crew galley, section A1, level 16 in thirty minutes. =^=

Deep in Romulan ship schematics, Isen barely heard the voice that brought him out of reading. Looking at the chronometer he saw only a few minutes had passed since he settled in for the night. Tapping his combadge he replied, "Acknowledged sir."
He reached for his still warm tea again and finished it in one swallow, before placing the cup back into the replicator. Meeting the XO, let alone an admiral was the furthest thing on his mind, but at least it wasn't at her office. ~But why the crews galley,~ he wondered to himself.
Shrugging he tugged on his uniform, glad that he hadn't taken it off.

Some five minutes ahead of time, he arrived and was rather unprepared for what awaited him. "Lieutenant Isen reporting as requested Admiral."

Deela looked up from what she was doing, "Oh good, you're here." She stopped what she was doing and threw him a white apron, "You can start peeling those potatoes." She handed him the vegetable peeler, then went back to cutting the carrots in front of her.

Slightly puzzled at the sight before him, Isen stood there holding the apron. His gaze moved to the small pile of the said potatoes, then back to the admiral and then right back to the potatoes. "I...um..." His voice trailed off as he put the apron on, walked over and picked up an old style peeler.
"You cook sir?", he finally asked.

"Who wants to eat replicated food all the time?" She pushed the carrots to the side and started on the red onions, "I have discovered that cooking helps me think. And while I was thinking, I remembered that I was supposed to schedule a meet and greet session with you today so I figured, as the saying goes, I would kill two birds with one stone, so here we are." Deela realized that she made a joke and chuckled a little, "I hope you don't mind."

Cracking a smile Isen, began peeling. "Not at all Admiral. But it's certainly a first. Just wish I hadn't already had a good feed earlier." He put some of the peelings off to be, oddly enough, recycled for replicator matter.
He looked at the vegetables whilst going over possible recipes and asked, "It may help to know what you're making though eh?"

"Braised Chicken with Vegetables, an old Earth recipe. It is a very simple recipe. Chicken stock, salt and pepper, smoked paprika vegetables and..." She pulls out an open bottle, "And wine. Would you like a glass?" She continued to chop the onion.

"As long as it's not red wine sir. I only use that for cooking, not drinking." The thought of drinking that dry bitterness made the El-Aurian cringe just a tad. He was almost done with the potatoes.

"California white wine, a Chardonnay to be exact. It is not as sweet as the Moscato but it is palatable." She poured them some.

"So, have you settled in alright? I do have to apologize for not greeting you when you first arrived." She finished the onions, poured the olive oil into the pan and then tossed them into the hot pan she prepared and started stirring.

"Ah, about that..." Isen pondered a bit. She obviously didn't embrace Vulcan stoicism, so he believed he wasn't about to get a dressing down.
Normally, he was supposed to report to the CO and XO as well as the Chief Engineer, right away but recent events had come to play.
"Apologies for not coming to you either admiral. It's just with hearing about Admiral Bremer being attacked and injured, I was going to hold off until tomorrow."
Finishing the peeling finally, he moved the potatoes over and continued. "As to the job, well, reckon I wasn't expecting commander Solomon to be called away so soon. But I'll hold the fort down, if that's the Human expression?"

"I have always wondered about that saying. Why would you want to hold something down that does not float?" She looked at him with a serious expression before breaking into a smile and a slight chuckle, "Sorry. Everyone when they see me thinks I am going to be this straight faced Vulcan type who never smiles at anything. I actually have a great sense of humor."

Deela slid the potatoes over to her and started chopping, "Give the onions a stir, will you?" She continued to chop, this time a little faster, "But seriously, the attack on Bremer has everyone on edge. Hopefully, they will find this guy who did it. So do not worry about protocols and such. I hate protocol."

Deela gathered the carrots and potatoes and dumped them into the onions that were slowly cooking. She cranked up the heat a bit, "I am glad that you are holding the forte for Lt. Cmdr. Solomon. I am just sorry that no sooner you arrive, he had to leave. When he gets back, I am sure he will be grateful for your help while he was away. Have you had a chance to meet him at all before he left?" She kept stirring the mixture.

Isen gave a nod while taking the glass in hand. "Species stereotypes are still so common eh. Most Humans usually expect me to be counsellor full of..." He picked up a small shaker off the spice rack nearby, before continuing."...sage advice."
Rolling his eyes at his own lame joke and put the container back on the rack. "But you've got a rather mixed heritage, which is something the Federation should look forward to as the centuries go on. Less profiling eh?"

"Definitely." She looked at him and smiled.

He stepped back to give T'lar some more room. Something about too many cooks in a kitchen came to mind, and the admiral had been right in saying it was a simple recipe.
Taking a gulp of the wine he continued on. "Aye, Solomon. Indeed I did meet with him sir. Top bloke. Dodgy circumstances in his career, but I judge by the person, not their rank."
Clearing his throat for a moment, he looked around. "Right, now where's the chicken?"

Deela pointed to a black pot, "It's in that pan with the lid. I've already browned it and it goes in last." Deela added the flour and the wine, "Solomon is a good guy." The thought of him made her smile.

"So what exactly do you like to do on your off time?" She continued to stir the vegetables.

Taking another mouthful of wine, Isen thought about that question. But the more he did think about it, the more he was keen to deflect it and shy away from an answer. "A few things besides this." Placing the glass down, he sniffed the air. "Speaking of which, the food smells interesting Admiral, but I can't rightly place it. Is it from Earth's north american continent somewhere?"

"California to be exact." She looked over at him, "You do realize that I am an empath, right? It is fine if you would rather not answer. Now that you have had a chance to settle in, is there anything you need or anything you want to ask me?" She poured in the rest of the ingredients, added the chicken and put a lid on it. Then put it in the oven.

"Interesting." Isen raised an eyebrow inquisitively for a moment. "Good to know you can read emotions. Luckily for some of us, it's not telepathy eh." Sometimes he envied the four-lobed species like Ferengi.
Picking the glass back up he went on. "Actually Admiral, I haven't had any information about what happened to these Romulan ships on the repair docket. Would help if I knew some whys and what to look out for."

Deela didn't have the heart to tell him that she was telepathic too but she never used it without permission, "The Romulans defected and there were some Romulans that didn't want that. So they were attacked. We have a handle on it now so I wouldn't worry about it. Right now, the focus is on this Morderin person and catching him." Deela had 40 minutes to kill. She motioned to Isen to follow her. With her glass in hand and the bottle in the other, she lead him to the crew mess hall a few yards from where they were.

Hearing about recent defectors perked the El-Aurians curiosity more. It said much to the situation that was still ongoing near the Pact. But more importantly it breathed some urgency into his work shifts, not that he didn't already have enough on his proverbial plate.
Taking off the apron, he followed T'Lar.

Deela sat down and leaned in, "This is not the first time that Admiral Bremer was attacked by Morderin. I hope they get him before he has a chance to finish Bremer off."

That Morderin name, title or thing didn't mean much to Isen as he had no context or history with it. But it couldn't have been good, like most things associated with an injured officer. Security must have their hands full at the moment.
He sat down across from the admiral. "Hmm. Pardon for asking, but you've known Admiral Bremer a long time eh? Does he have a habit of getting seriously injured? Or is he just collecting more enemies than allies around here?" He only had what was now becoming larger-than-life words and reports to go on, before requesting this assignment to Starbase 400. It was impressive to say the least, but if an officer was more like a Klingon, well everyone else may as well wear the middle of 23rd century red tunics again, if it were true.

Deela laughed, "Sometimes I wonder myself." Her expression changed, "He has made many enemies throughout his Starfleet career. I am not surprised that it has come back and bitten him in the butt. He has lost a great deal too because of those enemies like his ex-wife and two of his kids. It is really sad."

A small nod came from Isen. "Indeed. Could make one quite clunky." He looked at his now rather low glass of wine and poured another. "Haven't really given much of um...a go, in those kind of matters myself. It's bad enough to lose mates in Starfleet as it is sir."

"I know what you mean. I have lost two husbands myself. My first husband was killed by the Gorns and my second was killed in a shuttle accident." She also poured herself another glass, "So, since Solomon is away, it looks like you are in charge of things until he gets back. If you need anything, my door is always open."

~Ouch,~ thought Isen. He decided not to poke any deeper on that subject. "Can't say there isn't much to do down in Engineering. But hopefully, I can finish my bridge re-certification. Haven't been on-duty in the top since the Dominion war. Would be grand to do that from time-to-time. " If there was one thing about the Engineering decks, it was being in one of the virtually closed off to outside events place, besides medical.

"Then enjoy the time you have. And definitely pursue that re-certification. I am sure that Jack, I mean, Lt. Cmdr. Solomon would help you to make that happen." She finished her glass of wine, "If you ever get the hankering for some non-replicated food, I am here once a week at the same time. There is always extra."

Isen twirled the remaining wine."May have to do that Admiral. Just be warned my taste in food is more...um...well, it's not everyone's bowl of rice." He thought about a dinner when he had left the USS Jupiter's galley smelling of oi sobagi and hasperat fermentation. Good times.

"Can I let you in on a little secret? I have only been cooking for 5 months. I am not very good but I am willing to learn to cook other dishes from other cultures. You know, they do not let just anyone come in here and cook but being an Admiral and Executive Officer, it has its perks. So as long as I don't burn down this place, I can practice." Her goal is to impress LT. Cmdr. Solomon and maybe actually cook a meal for him rather than replicate it.

"Fair enough Admiral. Could be worse eh. I've heard of some people who manage to burn food from the replicator still." Isen was now going over how that was even possible beyond temperature applications from a replicator. But then he caught himself and chuckled. "You're doing ace compared to that sir."

She laughed as well, "Well thank you and thank you for peeling those potatoes for me. If there is not anything else you can think of that we need to discuss, I will let you go."

Isen remembered the reading he had to get back to in his quarters. "Very good sir. Ta for the wine." Still smiling, it didn't take long to find himself heading towards the nearest turbolift.
That certainly had been one of the more casual reporting ins he'd ever had. There was something to be said of doing it when they weren't working. Hopefully.

Deela watched him leave then went back and waited for her food to finish cooking.

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