Domesticity In The Modern Day
Posted on Sun Sep 23rd, 2018 @ 5:19pm by Commander Rita Paris & Lieutenant Commander Sonak
Edited on on Sun Sep 23rd, 2018 @ 5:34pm
Mission:
Hera v Hera
Location: USS Hera, Deck 8, Lieutenant Commander Paris' Quarters
Timeline: 2395
.
It had been a long few days.
Onboarding hundreds of new crew and officers, conflicts, reading and analyzing each of the senior officer onboards for reports that never seemed to end. Capturing a spy and chasing down kidnapped crewmen, on top of the fact that the mission was a very angry goddess who had declared war on a great number of races in the Federation, whom they were to stop. Whom had demonstrated a penchant for transforming people into beasts and objects. Fitted for an EVA suit, watching an assassinated officer drop dead, dealing with the idiosyncrasies of many of the extreme personalities that a starship assignment like the USS Hera tended to attract (or have sent to her).
It had worn Lieutenant Commander Rita Paris out, just a bit. Thus she had blocked off a few hours of ‘the First Officer is off duty’ time to tend to herself and her better half.
While she was no chef by any stretch of the imagination, Rita could follow a recipe and assemble a meal. While it was an oddly domestic skill for the extradimensional explorer to possess, she found the ritual of preparing and cooking a meal to be soothing to her nerves. Besides, she was not cooking for one anymore, which brought a smile to her face.
It was still unbelievable to her that Sonak had found her, lost to time and space, once she had provided him with a clue. As impressive as he had always been to her, his latest accomplishment was just that much more incredible. No matter the obstacles nor the distance, he would come for her. The unreasonable faith she had in the man had once again been justified. Despite the statistical improbability, he had masterfully managed to orchestrate their reunion, and make her whole once more.
Now, in their own tradition, she bustled about the larger quarters to which they had been transferred. The executive officer’s quarters were larger even than the chief flight officer’s quarters, and just opposite the captain’s quarters on the starboard side of the starship’s midline. Rita had very practically had the room dividers collected around her kitchenette, then she had just called for the cargo transporters to do a site to site transport to move their belongings, which were admittedly few, and their furniture and room dividers from one quarters to the other.
Which she insured that she was nowhere nearby when said beaming was occurring. Rita had no desire to end up with something inanimate interspersed with her molecules, or finding her atoms rearranged into chicken cordon bleu or a lovely ottoman. While she was absolutely certain that experts from all over the galaxy would reassure her that such a thing were impossible with modern transporter safeguards, she’d heard that more than once, and still beaten the odds to have something unbelievable happen to her.
Another consolation to the extradimensional explorer was that Mirror Universe Commander Rita Paris was almost certainly now long dead. The odds of the woman having experienced the same accident as Rita were too astronomical, even for a Paris. For her peace of mind, Rita was going to file that under the 'pretty positive she's dead by now' category. The look in her eyes as she screamed those last words to her still made the accidental adventurer shudder.
"I will come for him no matter how far you run!" the madwoman had screamed, and Rita believed her.
But that was then, and this was now.
Right here, right now, in the far-flung future of 2395, she was settled on a starship with which she had fallen in love. Sonak by her side, a captain who valued her input and efficiency, and high adventure on the horizon. In short, she had everything to live for, and she wasn’t about to jeopardize that by giving the Starfleet corps of engineers another head-scratcher as they repeated the same lines as their counterparts from decades past. ‘Huh, it isn’t supposed to do that’ was small comfort when your life had been ruined by unstable technology.
Although her latest accident, far from ruining her life, had catapulted them into a future of miraculous technologies, mighty starships and a Federation that had indeed boldly gone. Rita Paris in the 24th and a half century. Buck Rogers be damned.
A few polite requests of some Ops crewmen to help get things set up was easily accomplished, with handshakes all around afterward, and within half an hour the move had been accomplished and Rita was cheerfully bustling about the executive officer's quarters that were three times the size of the bridge of the USS Exeter. A collection of replicated vegetables had been sliced, diced and sautéed, then combined with a little flour and water to be stewed in a saucepan as she’d mixed flour, water and baking powder with a pinch of salt to create a biscuit mix, which she had then rolled flat, with which she had lined small baking tins.
This one was an experiment- carrots, celery, bell peppers, onions, potatoes and something called a lingami root that was supposed to be delicious weren’t quite the ingredients with which she was familiar, but when adapting recipes to a vegetarian lifestyle, sometimes bold choices had to be made. Pouring the mixture into the dough bowls formed by the dough in the baking tins, she laid more of the flattened biscuit mix over the steaming liquid, pressing the edges together and trimming away the excess before sliding them into the oven.
Dinner was underway, and would cook for the next twenty minutes at a low yet miraculously efficient heat. Thus by the time Sonak came home, their quarters would be filled with the scent of home cooking, which made Rita happy and tended to intrigue her logical mate. Headed for the shower, Rita peeled off her uniform, humming a happy tune.
Life was good.
The scent of an unknown, intriguing savory meal flooded the vulcan's nostrils as soon as the door wooshed open. One sharply-angled eyebrow went up slightly as he approached his alluring human wife.
"It always puzzles me to find you so often engaged in the antiquated traditional role of a human wife, and seem to enjoy what has been described in your society as the last form of slavery."
"It is antiquated, and I did struggle and rail against it for years," Rita wiped her hands on a dishtowel, a streak of flour underneath her right eye as she came around the kitchen's island to greet him clad in a short pair of engineering red shorts and a tight pink t-shirt that boldly declared 'Dumb Blonde'.
"But for you, it's different. It fulfills and satisfies you, and I enjoy making you... well, happy isn't the right word, but it stimulates and pleases you. Which stimulates and pleases me." Proud of herself for the mental gymnastics to make her statement logical, she beamed a smile at him- a warm smile amongst the many that she shared with the world. Save that this gentle smile of longing and vulnerability was for his eyes only. For it was only he who made her feel this way.
In the time-honored gesture of intimacy of his people, he extended his two fingers toward hers. As soon as they touched, he shared his thoughts in communication both aloud and telepathically through the bond they shared.
"Please tell me how may I contribute to this time we will share together. Beginning with the meal." Tenderly she stroked his fingers, reveling in the sensation it provided to him before speaking sweetly.
"You may give me a hug, so that I may welcome you home." Enfolding the lanky athletic build of the Vulcan in her arms, she snaked her hands up his back below his own. Barefoot, she was three inches shorter than he, and by cocking her hip and shifting her weight, she lost a bit more height to him. All of which she enjoyed about Sonak, via his solid physical presence which continually served to remind her that she was here, she could be heard, and that she existed.
Sighing away the tension of the day, she let it go. The stress, the schedules, the demands of the job washed away like the tide. Filtered through the calm logic of his mind, her emotional duress and the pressures of the day were easily objective, and could be dealt with rationally. Filed as experiences to assist in formulating future decisions. All of this she accomplished with a hug... and a few years of experience interacting with his incredible mind, meditation techniques and a few intuitive leaps on her part. After all, their union was only possible because they had been so incredibly compatible through some accident of fate.
Sonak felt the wave of her feelings on the shore of his emotionless serenity with the same natural ease as the sea rolls onto a rocky beach. Although the experience was hardly new since he had known her intimately, it was always a novel experience to him. The chaotic flux of human emotions and impulses was as unpredictable as the waves of the ocean and yet as whole was an ordered movement that went so deep he could not fathom it. This alone was something few Vulcans ever experienced; only such as famous historical ambassador Sarek, and legendary science officer T'Pol of two centuries past may have known.
His methodical mind put those short, intense new experiences in a recess of his mind for further meditation, and he returned to the present moment.
Pulling away from him so that she could make eye contact, those bright blue eyes opened wide as Rita smiled a close-lipped smile. "You can set the table and get the drinks? "
"The established ritual then; acknowledged," he answered in his deadpan tone that made it amazingly enough sound like wry humor. "What will be your choice of beverage?"
"Water for me please, I need to hydrate. I've been going all day pretty much nonstop." Fetching a pair of red and white plaid padded cloth oven mitts, the starship siren turned on the oven light to peer at her feat of baking, which looked to be done. The pie tops were golden brown, and they certainly smelled good. Opening the oven door to retrieve the baking pan holding the little biscuit pies, Rita brought them out to pass them under her nose for a long sniff. "Oooh, spicy!"
Bringing them to the dining table, Sonak slid plates in and created a place setting of the utensils with adroit skill. Meanwhile Rita took the small pie tin in hand, protected by the mitts, and dumped it upside down on Sonak's plate. Doing the same for hers, she nodded in satisfaction, then sat down, awaiting her mate with the beverages.
Sonak brought up a pitcher of Earth mountain water he had programmed into the replicator himself, so as to match molecular composition to the original down to the forty-seventh decimal. He poured two servings in Andorian crystal flutes he had acquired somewhere during his Academy crash course. The pitcher itself gave any liquid inside a glowing blueish tinge, as if they were drinking electricity. They also acted as soft glowing moving lights, reminiscent in tone and feel to candle light. The soft, soothing lighting from them he found conductive to restoring serenity after a hard day of work, while he knew Rita would also find it romantic, and quite satisfying to her emotional sensibilities.
With an analytical eye he viewed the dish she was serving and allowed the aroma of it impregnate his senses. As stated the wisdom of Gol, one had to live for the moment; because there was no past; and no future without it.
"My wife, it never fails to fascinate me to see you exhibit with such excellence the ancient culinary skills of an Earth woman of centuries past while knowing that you are an accomplished pilot of the most advanced spacecraft, even of this advanced century. You are undoubtedly without peer."
Breaking with Vulcan tradition as he always had done since knowing her, he served her the first glass of water.
With a slow nod of her head, she acknowledged his gesture. "My husband... I tried that out earlier. It doesn't seem quite right to me somehow, after all these years. Which is hilarious since I was the one who insisted on formalizing our union. I'll get it. Somehow just... Sonak sums it up for me. But I suppose I'll see how it develops over time, yes?"
"I have a tendency to use the traditional forms as a habit of methodology. Our relationship, however, is anything but traditional. Therefore, if your prefer to call one other by our name, let us do so."
"Well, let's not be completely hasty..." Rita waved her fork like a baton, then waggled it absently. "I... do kinda like it when you call me your wife, I must admit. Maybe because I spent all those years telling Daddy I didn't need a husband, it sounds odd for me to embrace it?"
"I have not studied human psychology well enough to make a valid assessment on the matter," he spoke in his usual deadpan tone."However, I have shared your feelings and I understand this; you do not indeed need a husband in the legal nor social sense. What you need is a concerned friend, an attentive partner, and a respectful colleague in all aspects of your life. I am gratified to be able to attempt to fulfill this need, in reciprocity for the unique growing life experience you give me; even in the most simple details, like this shared meal."
Shaking her head, she grinned. "You are right, as always. I'll work with it some, but please, don't let that hinder you from exploring these titles as well, my love. Experiment and see what definitions appeal to you, hm?"
"As for this meal, it's a peasant food of Earth that is called a 'pot pie'. A very ancient Greek recipe, altered by the Romans when they added the crust on top. However, the best way to eat them is to upend them, then mash them onto the plate so that the mixture has a chance to cool, thus bringing it to an edible temperature. Usually fowl meat would provide the protein element. But I think the lingami root should make an interesting substitution." With that, she mashed out the pie onto her plate, the steaming contents filling the air with the fragrant aroma. Closing her eyes to sniff the air, a small contented smile settled onto her face.
"A cultural and historical experience as well as a culinary one; I am grateful for this opportunity."
So saying, he duplicated her action, mashing the meal on his plate with mechanical precision, before taking a morsel to smell it and then slowly taste it. His eyebrow went up and he nodded.
"Rich yet light, nourishing yet tasteful, strong and spicy yet delicate and smooth; this reminds me much of you. You make even a simple shared meal a reminder of our bonding. Again, well done, Rita my wife."
And so saying, he went back to his plate with obvious appreciation.
The smile that spread across her face was one of simple joy. To some the declaration might have sounded cold and logical, bereft of any care or comfort. Yet to her, the words melted her heart all over again. While he appreciated her, more than that, he celebrated her- her culture, her cooking, and herself. She knew there was no false flattery nor lip service to keep her supported emotionally while he hid the truth, as so many did. With him, every statement was genuine, every expression a truth. Who could not love all of that in a man?
"So, were you successful in your endeavors about the ship today?" It wasn't 'how was your day', but that was a nonsensical statement that he had to translate when she spoke thusly. So she made the effort to couch her phrases to be sensible to the logical kolinahr, while still asking about his day and how things had gone.
"Meeting with the captain was... intriguing. She has a way of thinking I do not as yet fully comprehend; but this was only a first contact. Learning to interact with a commanding officer is always part of one's duty. If you recall, it had not been all that easy with Michael either, back then; and he was only human, not a joined twin entity like her."
As he spoke, he did not eat. It would have been disrespectful as much the food itself as too her. Each was an experience of it's own, he wanted to experience fully on their own.
"Captain Telven is, I agree, quite intriguing," Rita responded. "A pirate princess who ran away to join Starfleet. I'll admit that I don't always follow where she is going, but I think in that she is less enigmatic and more..." The word Rita would have used was 'human', but in the 24th century that was simply too close-minded a phrase to be used any longer. "Flawed. She knows an abundance of secrets and she always has an ace up her sleeve, an edge yet to be brought to bear on the situation. She has difficulty trusting, yet that seems to be her fondest desire. This one is a heroine, who rescues the orphans and the abandoned then gathers them to her, inspiring loyalty with her deeds and her desire to help, which she tries to hide behind a cool facade of indifference."
"The chief of science is just as intriguing. Like the commanding officer, this is the first time I have met one of his kind; an artificially-created species, in many ways as much displaced as we ourselves. This Lieutenant Vaemyn is also remarkably emotional, yet seemingly in perfect control; this should prove not only a good balance to me in our work, but a most interesting behavior to experience and learn from. It could even prove useful in my relationship with you."
Before continuing, he looked at her for a second, even as she smiled back at him, enjoying listening to his account of his day aboard the Hera.
"Meeting the El Aurian doctor was also most interesting. This Doctor Dael is obviously very young, especially for their species allegedly, and I sensed some uneasiness in my presence. Yet, our chief medical officer is highly competent, intelligent and open-minded, and truly has our health and care at heart. You might say, in your colloquial human way; what more or better could be asked of a physician?"
"Agreed. They are a young immortal, apparently, taking their first faltering steps into the universe," Rita offered. "Left to their own devices, we will all be dust for centuries before they are even our comparative ages. How exciting to be intheir lives now, in these formative years as they begin to explore the wonders and mysteries of existence. This doctor has courage and compassion in abundance, that simply have yet to be tested, I'll bet."
"As do all living things; each according to their gifts," he concluded.
"As for you, Sonak my love, you never realize just how intimidating it can be to meet you," Rita sighed as her bare foot sought out his, her toes seeking his sock-clad ankles under the table. "One does not encounter a kolinahr master every day, especially not one who hurtles himself across time and space to reunite with his lover. You are an impressive figure, not just to me, and our story is rather well known across the Hera. You remember how difficult it was for me to understand you when we met, and I was a seasoned officer by then."
He stretched his leg towards her to better accommodate her need for physical contact, of which he was well aware. But he did lift an eyebrow at her words.
"Indeed? I was not aware of the emotional effect I might have on others. I shall try to be more... amenable to my fellow emotional colleagues. As for my status as a kolinahr, even Vulcans find it uncomfortable and difficult to understand. It cannot be helped short of explaining myself. And to be honest, I prefer to die misunderstood than to waste all my life explaining myself."
Apparently not even aware of the humor in his statement, he took a forkful of his pot pie, but did not eat it immediately.
"The rest of the crew is representative of the diversity of this twenty-fourth century Federation itself. It seems exploration and discovery will happen, as much within the ship as anywhere else."
"Well, you can be intimidating- that said, you certainly don't need to alter your behavior to accommodate others. I mention it so that you may be aware of how you may be perceived, so that you might have some insight into the reactions your interaction with some of your shipmates may produce. Your guide to the emotional, as always my logical love." Rita grinned cheerily before scooping up a rather large forkful of the pot pie to shovel it into her mouth, only to reach for her water glass. "Hot hot hot!"
Taking the time to taste again the meal she had obviously made especially for him, Sonak, once he had fully swallowed his bite, looked at his bride with seriousness.
"This is most satisfying. That being said, I would like to point out that I do not expect you nor demand of you that you follow my nutritional habits. Humans need complete proteins in their diet which is most easily, and I was told savory, when obtained through the consumption of animal products. Doing so with non-animal food requires complex nutritional calculations and balance and sometimes even supplements; none of this conducive to a satisfactory eating experience. Please do not deprive yourself on my account. I have no problem with you eating meat, fish, eggs or dairy products even in my presence."
"So you've explained, darling. And I do supplement my meals with proteins from time to time, and I assure you, Doctor Dael is certainly watching my health. But when we eat together, I prefer it to be a shared meal that we can both enjoy without compromise. It makes me happy to do this, so it is no sacrifice on my part. Besides," the expressively emotional human woman smiled at the calm kolinahr, "I'm used to it now. More than a little meat in my diet tends to upset my digestion after all these years. I'm content with our compromise- I find ways to interpret my planet's recipes for you, as you explore the spicy and savory dishes of my culture. And we bond emotionally over the sharing of food, which fulfills me. I create, I provide for you, we enjoy together. I daresay I have it better than most."
The somber scientist nodded sagely.
"Flawless analysis and perfect logic. You would not have done better had you been a Vulcan woman. And it is all the more fascinating to realize that it all comes from an emotional standpoint of a desire to share a life experience. I am humbled and honored by your decisions and actions, Rita, my wife."
"What higher praise could a girl ask for?"
When dinner was finished and the dishes had been washed and put away, the leftovers were stored to be distributed later amongst their senior officers. Curled up on the simple yet comfortable Scandanavian design sofa in their living room, Rita snuggled against the lanky athletic form of her husband... lover... Sonak, she still felt summed it up. Rolling her eyes skyward, the fickle woman resolved to continue to play this one by ear.
"While I understand that you have infinite patience for watching the old Earth vids of our entertainments- and I do have to show you Wreck-It-Ralph, that reminds me- but tonight, how about you show me something from your culture that was created after..." Rita pulled back from him a bit so she could make eye contact, even though in contact with him like this, if she thought it he knew it, and what she felt he felt. Yet it was important to her to see his eyes when she said certain things, and broached certain subjects. Because it was reassuring to her to see his reactions.
"You know, after your Vulcan was no more? Tonight kind of celebrate the future of your people that was meant to be?"
It took him a moment to fully process what she was hinting at.
"After the destruction of Vulcan, there had been an intensive work of finding a new home and trying to preserve our kind from extinction. The urgent need of preservation of what we had been stunted any new artistic endeavor for a good while."
Another moment passed in consideration for him before he spoke again.
"There was, however, an ode composed by Ambassador Spock, shortly before he passed away on New Vulcan. Of course, it is unknown in this universe, so there is no way to show it to you... except if I were to play it on my own ka'athyra,; my lyre."
The eyes of the pretty pilot went wide. "Wait, you can play an instrument too?"
"Most Vulcans do," he replied matter-of-factly."Music is highly mathematical and conducive to higher brain function stimulation."
Those bright blue eyes slid to half lidded as she made the realization. "Of course you can. How silly of me." Rolling over to sit in a lotus position on the couch, Rita prepared to be an attentive audience. She'd actually meant something from the Vulcan of the Prime universe from the past 120 years, but this promised to be rather unique and beautiful experience all its own. "Did you bring one with you? Oh wait, you can replicate one, can't you? The future, I tellya."
"I brought my own from our own universe, when I traveled quantum realities," he revealed. "Musical instruments need to be... enlivened, for lack of a better word. They must be played and aged with the musician, to best render in sounds what is within the artist."
Sitting up straight, Rita offered a happy tight-lipped smile to her still-surprising after all these years mate. "Yes, please? I would very much like to hear Ambassador Spock's final composition. Thank you, my talented spouse. Oooh, I like that one! Spouse..."
The stoic Vulcan stood up and went to his own bag that he hadn't taken time to empty fully, caught up in his reunion with his T'hy'la and their bonding, and meeting his fellow officers and preparing for the mission. He returned with a strangely warped cross between a harp and a guitar, with controls aligned on top, and a big knob where the strings met at the base. While he sat cross-legged, Sonak rested the curved base on one thigh, as the rest of the instrument rose vertically along his torso and over his head.
Activating the electronics within the simple dark lacquered wooden frame, he took a moment to adjust the metallic strings to harmonize the eerie haunting sound that emanated from the circuitry.
"Music was part of my training in the attainment of kolinahr. As it is also conducive to elicit emotional responses, it was used to bring mine to the forefront; thus I could better understand them, prior to discarding them. This would leave only the intellectual appreciation and mathematical understanding of music, freed of emotional 'noise'. But I must warn you; I am no great artist. I am only an average player, nothing more. Your human sensibilities will undoubtedly find my playing technical and dry. But do I hope you will appreciate at least the message Ambassador Spock tried to convey through the music. After all, he was half-human."
So saying, he let the silence fill the air before starting an long, eerily single note, as if evoking the vastness of space. Then, a few notes crept in, like sensors signalling approach to a planet. And then the full melody began. At first, it spoke of the time honored dignity of Vulcan, and then abruptly came low, tragic notes; the abrupt end of Vulcan, suddenly cutting short the promise of billions of souls on a world destroyed before it's time. Then, slowly, sounds of mourning and loss merged into stronger notes of resolve in the search of a new life, of the effort of rebuilding a future; the sound of New Vulcan.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xRfbWrI03gc
Through it all, Rita closed her eyes, letting the music carry her along on its journey. It was similar to some earth music, if one looked for similarities. Instead, the explorer of space and time and experience simply listened without preconception and marveled at the alien composition, on an instrument unknown on her world. Haunting and beautiful, she found herself profoundly moved by it. The seemingly discordant notes were placed, she felt, with evocative intent, while the flow of the ethereal electronic 'voice' beneath it all that sang a song that was sad, yet sublime.
When Sonak finished, gradually his attentive audience opened her eyes, surprised to find tears rolling down her face. "That was... beautiful and moving. Thank you, Sonak, for sharing that with me. Do you know any other songs... ah, compositions?"
He nodded.
"Would you like one made in the human neo-classical style? You should find it less... alien."
He adjusted his lyre and other sounds came out of it as he played a much shorter but much simpler piece.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T0V1742vwdg
As the evening progressed, at her request he played a few more songs for her, before they retired to the bedroom. There they passed a few more hours, exploring the mysteries of the inner self as well as the pleasures of the flesh; that which she craved, which he did oblige. When the crashing waves of her passion had exhausted themselves against the shore of his stoic endurance, at last they lay still; together, at peace. Her mind was calm and quiet, one of the few times that could be said. Her breathing was slowing, although still elevated to manage her higher heart rate when her mind was so interlaced with his own that it affected her physicality, moving them both toward a center, a compromise between her one and his three beats per second.
Fulfilled, blissful and secure, her soothed psyche would soon drift off to sleep, her body satiated, her soul blissful. The all-too-human woman did not speak nor form a thought, but the deep and abiding love that she felt for the alien male from the dry, dusty planet light-years from her home filled her to overflowing, thus it flowed through her to him. No words could express with such purity the depth and breadth of her feelings for him, when such a simple emotional exchange could speak volumes. A small, contented sigh escaped her lips as she snuggled against his form, as she was wont to do in moments such as this when he was close to her.
As for Sonak, it was much more than just the fulfillment of self, in giving the best of himself to his human lover for her own sake. Rita had literally opened a whole new universe for him; one that he was so much enticed to explore, as it was so rich and so different. So alien, and yet so close to the core of his being.
Apart, but never parted... touching and touched...
As the human woman slipped from consciousnesses, she subconsciously tugged oh so gently at the mind of her Vulcan mate, silently pleading with him to accompany her. While her intellect was not subpar, attempting to affect his vast and organized mind was a feat akin to moving a starship with her bare hands. In his time he had faced some of the most powerful intellects in their universe, and come away all the stronger for the experience. Yet allowing his higher mental function to suspend itself, he too allowed his mind to enter a state of relaxation and slumber. For as was their tradition, where she plotted a course, he willingly chose to follow.
Exploring the unknown... together.
http://memory-beta.wikia.com/wiki/Ka'athyra




By Lieutenant Asa Dael on Tue Sep 25th, 2018 @ 10:32pm
Love it, love everything about it.
By Lieutenant Commander Sonak on Tue Sep 25th, 2018 @ 11:10pm
Thank you. She plots the course and I follow as best as I can.