Cultural Exchange Over Dinner

Posted on Sun Nov 4th, 2018 @ 9:19pm by Commander Rita Paris & Lieutenant Commander Sonak & Lieutenant Commander Mnhei'sahe Dox & Lieutenant Asa Dael

Mission: Escaped Pantheons
Location: Crew Quarters of Rita Paris and Sonak, Deck 8
Timeline: 2395

The invitation, sent across HERAnet was simple.

LTJG DOX LTJG DAEL You are invited to attend dinner with the Commanders. Dress code casual, bring a coffee or a dessert. This is a voluntary invitation, not an order. We're just inviting you over for dinner. Ravioli in marinara sauce with garlic bread and some synthesized red wine. Your medical records indicate no food allergies? 19:00 hours.

Asa tapped back in response, “No allergies, I look forward to it. I will be happy to bring coffee.” After the PaDD indicated the message was sent, Asa strode around their quarters, looking at their wardrobe. “Casual? Huh, um, not sure I know how to do that.”

Before getting dressed, the doctor set about preparing their favorite Earth blend of coffee. It was a mixture of Kona beans blended with hazelnuts and a hint of vanilla. After allowing it to brew slightly less time than normal (after all, it would need to keep for a bit, thereby increasing its strength), Asa transferred the beverage to a carrying container along with cream and a choice of sweeteners.

Now for the much dreaded portion of getting ready….clothes.

The young doctor had spent their childhood running around in whatever scraps were available from surrounding Bajoran settlements. Clothing had not been high on the list of things the cult their parents joined cared about, and Asa had a sneaking suspicion they did not really have a sense of style. After all, one of the great things about Starfleet was the uniform. It provided an easy way to know what to put on every day without looking like an utter fool.

The doctor thumbed through some images of their time on Earth, looking at the people in the background and scrutinizing for the first time the ways others dressed. Deciding to just replicate something instead of cobble together their pitiful wardrobe, Asa set about programming what they were looking for.

After retrieving the clothing from the replicator, the doctor dressed in brown, red, and black herringbone print pants made of a soft wool that had a wide leg and deep pockets, two of the things the doctor knew they valued. They opted for a simple black v neck t shirt top, not loose but not tight, and black slip on sandals. They grabbed the coffee serving dish and set off for the Commanders quarters.

In the turbolift on its way to deck 8, Lieutenant Junior Grade Melanie Dox adjusted her top. It was a few minutes prior to nineteen hundred hours and she didn't want to be late regardless of this not being an official function.

In the short time since she had begun her service abord the massive Nebula Class Starship, this was the first time she had left her quarters in anything but her uniform, but the invitation mentioned casual dress, and as she was off duty she didn't want to come off as more uptight than she usually did. But tonight, Melanie wore a loose fitting dark turquoise blouse that bunched at the side with a slightly wide neck and a pair of black pants with wide bottomed legs. In her hand was a shallow ceramic container with a clear lid containing a dark brown pudding.

She had gotten off of duty only an hour and a half prior at the end of her first week as the new Chief of the Flight Control Officer and she felt like, with a few stumbles aside, that it was going moderately well. At least she hoped it was.

The turbolift dropped her off at the far end of the corridor of Deck 8, as was a habit for her. Dox tended to run anxious and liked to giver herself a little bit of a walk to vent that stress. But within a moment, she found herself standing outside of the door to the First Officer's quarters. Swallowing slightly, Melanie assured herself that there was no need to be anxious and pressed the pad outside the quarters, hearing the familiar chime of the door from within.

"Enter."

The voice was soft and deep, obviously that of the tall Vulcan that appeared behind the sliding door. Sonak was wearing a sand-colored poncho-like garment and tight leggins over matching soft boots. There were Vulcan sigils etched in gold from the closed collar in a straight line towards the hip-length hem of the flowing garment, under which he wore what appeared to be a white cuffed ample-sleeved shirt almost reminiscent of old Earth pirate shirts. but this was in truth a traditional formal Vulcan garb worn by kolinahr adepts on Vulcan, but it looked quite casual to offworlder's eyes.

"Welcome, Lieutenant Junior Grade Dox. Peace and long life to you. It is agreeable to have you accept our invitation."

"Thank you, Lieutenant Sonak. And to you as well." Dox replied with a slight nod, as her hands were still full carrying the requested dessert tray. But she was glad for the slight inconvenience as she was anxious as to whether it was appropriate or not for her to return the Vulcan greeting as she was taught as a child and having full hands removed some degree of options from her.

While on bridge duty, the Captain made a perfunctory introduction to the ships Science Officer but this was Melanie Dox's first real meeting and she was, as is standard operating procedure for the anxious young officer, nervous. But in this case, it was nerves born of her upbringing. Dox's mother was a half Romulan, but one that left her service on Romulus inspired by the calls of reunification begun there years prior. As such, Melanie was raised with a certain reverence of Vulcans and their culture.

Trying her level best to not let her anxiety be too obvious, Dox stepped into the room. "Where would be good to put this?" Dox asked, slightly raising the dish as she spoke.

"Allow me to provide assistance," Sonak replied, taking her burden away from her to put it on the table. "Please make yourself comfortable. Would you like some refreshement?"

"Uh... Please. Whatever is already prepared is fine, thank you." Dox replied.

Although he had been working with humans mostly and many other species during his decades as a Starfleet officer, the Vulcan was not much experienced in social events; even less one where he had to play host. On Vulcan, things were made very simple with time honored rituals no one had to think about. It became quite more complex when interspecies relations were concerned.

Now his only reference were Strafleet protocols and what he had observed from personal meetings with higher ranking officers; not quite adequate for such a socializing event as Rita expected this to be. Although it was impossible for the kolinarh master to feel nervous, he certainly didn't feel quite up to the challenge yet; but that is what made it a worthwhile challenge to begin with. And as he was fond of saying, in a crisis, each one answered according to one's gifts.

Thus he proceeded in the only way he knew; logically.

Shortly after Sonak began speaking with Dox, the chime rang on the door as Doc Dael stood outside, shifting awkwardly from foot to foot.

Emerging from the bedroom, Rita made her way around the metal weave dividers placed creatively about the room that turned the spacious quarters she inhabited into more of an apartment by breaking up the space into ‘rooms’, as had her old quarters on the Exeter. Clad in an oversized baby blue t-shirt, surprisingly the same color as the science department, printed on the front was ‘Talos IV department of Tourism’, while below she wore some bright red short shorts that showed off her legs, and she was padding around her quarters barefoot. Calling out to the overhead, Paris requested, “Computer, please open the door.”

As the door to the quarters hissed open, Rita thanked the computer as she made her way to the kitchen she had set up, calling out “Come on in, Doc!”

At the sight of the ships Chief Medical Officer, Melanie Dox turned and smiled. It wasn't a forced smile like so many social functions she had dreaded in the past. She found she really liked her new crew and the doctors energy was something the usually reserved Melanie found infectious. "Evening, Doctor."

"Greetings Doctor," Sonak followed suite, coming back from the table. "Peace and long life to you. It is agreeable as well to have you accept our invitation."

This time, having learned from Dox' arrival, he took from them what they had brought to go back with it to the table and set it all there.

"Thanks, Lieutenant! Glad to be here. And hey, Miss Dox! Congrats on the promotion, that's really great! Commander Paris, excellent shirt!" the small individual was buzzing with happy energy to be surrounded by friends. They were happy to have found a place in the crew so soon, and relieved their 7-year stretch of being a near pariah seemed to be at an end.

"Uh, thanks." Melanie replied to the energetic doctor.

Doc Dael moved to sit next to Dox, bumping her shoulder amiably and asked, "Anything I can do to help?"

The quarters themselves, broken up into an apartment, had a few prints on the wall, including a photo of a handsome engineering lieutenant in a red shirt from back in Paris’ day, and an image of the USS Exeter in her original Constitution glory, prior to a refit. The space was broken up by metal mesh screens as movable dividers, and furnished with comfortable furniture that, combined with the screens, most definitely gave the quarters the feel of a starship quarters one might find in a museum, except ten times the size.

As Sonak showed the guests to the dining table, place settings were already in place, water glasses chilled and filled with water that literally glowed blue due to the exotic pitcher from which they had come. Meanwhile, in the adjoining kitchen, the feisty first officer was bustling about, stirring sauce, then sliding a tray of prepared bread slices into the oven before wiping her hands on a red and white checkered dishcloth.

“So thanks for coming and braving my cooking! I’m going to qualify up front, I am a navigator, not a chef, so don’t expect the moon here!” The smells wafting out of the kitchen belied the old-school officer’s objections, as it smelled pretty darned good. “Would anyone like a glass of wine? It’s synthehol, I assure you.”

Shuffling slightly in place, Dox was beginning to feel a little uncomfortable as the energy in the room rose, but was trying to keep focused and not let her anxiety get the better of her. She tended to view social situations as tests, and they were tests she felt she always failed at. As such, her throat was feeling a little dry and she was happy for the Commander's offer. "That..." Her first word was slightly hoarse, so she cleared her throat with a slightly nervous chuckle. "That sounds great, thank you."

"Never had it, sounds great!" chirped Asa.

Pouring two half glasses of robust red wine into glasses from a carafe with practiced ease, Paris half turned as Sonak came alongside her and smoothly took the glasses from her hand as if they had done this a thousand times. Bearing them to the table smoothly, the Vulcan scientist presented the drinks to the two junior officers.

“Dox, relax,” Paris called without looking up from where she was pouring ravioli into the boiling water. “We’re off duty and you can’t screw up. It’s dinner. Don’t eat with your feet and you are pretty much home free. No ranks, no judgment, just a little harmless social interaction and some ‘getting to know you’ time. Doc, how’s your spleen?”

"Well, it's still there, so that's good," Asa said with a chuckle. "No, the Doctor did an excellent job as always. He's- to use his own words- a great bloke. Counselor Jurot also helped with the surgery as it turns out. I owe her a debt of gratitude, I can't imagine she felt very comfortable digging around in someone else's innards. It's a bit of an acquired taste, truth be told."

As if realizing what they had just said, and in what environment, Asa shifted slightly in their seat. "Wellllllll that might not be normal dinner conversation for everyone else though, huh? I guess medical training kinda knocks the shyness right outta 'ya when talking about that kind of thing."

"We always welcome opportunities to learn more from you... and about you," Sonak assured Dael and Dox both. "It is indeed a great part of what this meeting is all about. So feel free to indulge in any subject you wish to discuss."

Taking a sip of their wine, Asa politely put the wine back on the table. Turned out red wine was not to their palate, but they didn't plan on saying anything.

"Where did you learn to cook, ma'am? It's a skill I'm lacking myself."

“Recipes,” Paris replied, sashaying in from the kitchen with a wineglass of her own in her hand. “Sonak observed that humans emotionally bond over food sharing, and it certainly is true. I started doing it when he and I started dating, because he was a bit of an orphan, and he wanted to learn about human culture."

"Which probably requires a bit of an explanation. But before I con my spouse into explaining the tragedy of other timelines- Doc, we’re off duty, I’d like to think we’re friends and we’re behind closed doors. Please, call me Rita. That goes for you too, Dox. I’d appreciate it if you would keep it professional out there on deck, but between us, we’re all senior staff and I’m just a person, flawed and… ah, fallible as any other. So no ma’am’s, just relax and feel free to be causal, okay?” Rita Paris flashed that winning million-watt smile of hers that brightened a room, inviting the two others to do the same. After all, they were, in fact, her own age physically, if not chronologically.

Meanwhile, Melanie sat quietly, nursing her wine and doing her best to keep up with the conversation, which by her personal standards, was somewhat brisk. But she knew she had been addressed and and didn't want to be rude, so she responded with a slightly more casual then normal, "I'm still working on that one." Followed by her trademark nervous chuckle.

"Which, I guess kills the point of my relaxing if I'm working on it." She thought out loud before taking another sip.

"We share the same predicament, you and I," told Sonak standing as rigid as any Vulcan would in any circumstance. "Perhaps this occasion will be an opportunity to help one another in that regard. With the help of our more... casual-experienced acquaintances, of course."

"I suppose so. Though I could certainly use a little logic to tell my brain I'm anxious for no real reason." Melanie responded with more frankness then she would have expected. "Or, more accurately since I obviously know it, to just let it get through for a change." She took a breath and set her drink down on the table beside her, having spied a coaster, and turned to Asa. "I'm really glad you're doing better, doctor. I was worried after I read all the department reports that were made available."

Asa had adopted a much less rigid posture since Rita had clarified it was ok to be just people behind closed doors. They appeared to have one leg at about a 45 degree angle away from the other and their arms were loose and gangly. The overall appearance was not entirely unlike a Great Dane puppy sitting at the table. All awkward and eager and smiling.

“Aw, thanks for asking, Dox. And please call me Asa, or Doc if you like. I seem to have overestimated my ability to bleed internally without being endangered. Stupid move on my part, but the EMH is a talented doctor, and he put me to rights. Counselor Jurot was also kind enough to assist, allowing the rest of the staff to focus on the crew. It was a bit closer call than is ideal, but hey, I’ll be right as rain in a few days. Speaking of, I am dying for a dip in a pool or waterfall or something. Anyone know any good holodeck programs for that?”

"Hmm... I have no idea." Dox thought for a moment. "I have a library of saved programs I brought with me, but they're pretty much all either flight simulators or starship exteriors."

“I, ah, that is… Thex, Lieutenant Commander sh’Zoahri, introduced me to the running trail at the Academy program. I ran cross-country at the Academy, so I have a lot of fond memories of that trail. Aaaaand I’ve never tried to look for any other programs,” Rita coughed, a bit embarrassed to admitting that she was woefully behind on the curve with the modern entertainments.

"I mostly WALK them just to relax... But..." Dox paused, a bit nervous about sharing something she was worried might come off as silly. "If you want to try them, I have over twenty programs where you could run on the exterior of a ship. I... It's something I started doing in the academy. I'm tweaking one for the Hera in my off time as the computer didn't get her pearlescence right." She paused to take a sip of her drink. "And I've programmed it to adjust the POV so you could move across any surface and the projection always keeps down under you're feet."

Imediately, Dox felt her face go flush as she started blushing, which for her gave her cheeks a tan shade due to her quarter-Romulan herritage. Her personal interests were something she didn't always feel comfortable talking about very often, but she wanted to really try and be more open on the Hera and so far, Rita and Asa seemed to sincerely want to make the anxious pilot feel welcome.

For her part, Rita’s face dropped. “I totally have done that!” Paris practically squealed. “I used to hang out on the hull all the time on the Constitution, because I could, and when we were first assigned to the Exeter she was in dock at Lexington station, but she was quarantined. So we were trying to manage the ship and crew when no one was allowed to go aboard, and so since she was there and I could, I ran the saucer section a few times before the Admiralty beamed me off for a meeting. So I would love to see those programs….” At that, Paris paused, then added somewhat hesitantly, “Melanie?”

"Oh, absolutely! I already have a Constitution and a Constitution Refit made. I think they would be ideal for your runs as the hulls were so much smoother. Less windows and... Stuff... all over." Melanie responded energetically as her face lit up, not even registering that Rita had used her first name for the first time until she stopped talking. But as soon as she finished and her brain caught up with her, she smiled broadly with her cheeks still blushing as she added with a slight nod, "Rita."

At the mention of running along the outside of the ship, Asa quirked an eyebrow and asked remarked to the table, “Ok, so all pilots are crazy. Duly noted.”

Unable to restrain herself, Melanie let out a snort at the doctor's comment. "Quite possibly, yeah." She chuckled out.

“It’s a thing… when I was little, my father drilled etiquette into me, and you never use someone’s first name until they give you permission. Which is why I offer mine, but writing a one-sided contract where I expect the other person to adhere to my internal rules is silly. So I tend to nudge the boundary. If it makes you feel any better, I’ve never called the captain by her first name, because she’s never given me permission to use it and I am too neurotic to ask,” Rita admitted before taking a gulp of wine, then smoothly pivoting to head back to the kitchenette. As she slid on an oven mitt, the oven timer went off and she opened the oven door to retrieve the garlic bread.

Doc Dael was sipping on their wine. After the initial shock, they decided it was a taste they could get used to, at least during social occasions. Although why anyone would prefer this to Horchata, or even better, fruit punch, was a mystery to the young person.

“We…..didn’t really do etiquette, truth be told. We all were expected to follow the leaders of our faith absolutely. Beyond that, it was pretty patriarchal. If you weren’t a man, well…..you weren’t really a person. The Bajoran’s I would sneak off to be around didn’t care about any of that. Honestly, there weren’t too many rules they cared about at all, in an easygoing kind of way,” Asa remarked. “But I do appreciate the honor to call you all by name. I understand the importance of chain of command and protocal to the fleet, so I tend to err on the side of caution. Honestly, I feel a bit odd calling our EMH by Doctor only. He’s such a vibrant person, but he will pick out a name when he’s ready. He’s the first holographic individual I’ve met before, so I’m still learning a bit about how to accommodate his personal goals.”

"I tend to lean on ranks not just because it's more respectful, obvoiusly in a chain of command way..." Dox took another sip, starting to talk more freely. "...but because I am seriously terrible with names. It took me 4 months to remember my roommates name in my first year at the academy. I made it the whole time never actually calling her ANYTHING just to play it safe." She laughed at the absurdity of the idea. "I have a PaDD in my quarters with pictures and names of everyone in the Flight Control department and I have been quizzing myself after hours now all week."

"Not a half bad idea, Melanie. And hey, we all have our own strengths and weaknesses. Nothing to be ashamed of there. Heck, I can't walk in a straight line without serious effort. It's like some days my legs don't know how long they are," Asa remarked.

Laughing out loud with a joyful tone, Melaine turned with a smile to Asa, kicking her legs back and forth as they hovered just slightly off the ground while she sat. "Mine don't know how SHORT they are. It's a good thing starships don't have pedals or my career path would have been dramatically different."

"Sonak, would you help me in the kitchen please?" Rita called uncharacteristically as she eyed the heavy steaming pot.

"Acknowledged."

The Vulcan did not show any strain or discomfort handling the hot pot even without kitchen mittens and bringing it where she indicated. 'Hot as Vulcan' was not just a mere joke within the Federation. Only Andoria, on the opposite end of the temperature scale, could boast a native sentient life form on a planet with such a harsh environment. His own body temperature was perceptibly higher than the human standard, and so he felt ambiant heat much less.

"That smells delicious." Melanie leaned slightly towards the Doctor. "It's... What again? Ravioli? I've..." Dox was slightly nervous again, a back and forth emotional rollercoaster she seemed to live on. "I've never actually had it and forgot to look up what it is in my quarters."

Sonak's sensitive ears picked up both her question and her emotional discomfort. As a good host, he did his best to answer both.

"That makes two of us, Lieutenant. They could be defined as small wheat-based pasta pouches filled with whatever mix of food with pasta sauce and spices; usually meats and vegetables. Since as a Vulcan I am vegetarian by choice, Rita has accomodated us with these distinctively colored pieces; greenish for me, reddish for you omnivorous table mates. But you may have your pick of both as you please."

"Thank you, Lieutenant Sonak." Dox responded with a bit of a bounce in her voice. "I'll have to try them both, I think."

As her shoulder was still not completely recovered from a harpy dragging her into the sky by it, Rita wasn't about to go picking up a hot heavy pan in front of the ship's surgeon who had warned her to take it easy. Besides, working in the kitchen with someone always made it better. Holding the strainer in front of the pot edge, Rita indicated that she wished it poured out, which her spouse obliged, and through teamwork they accomplished their goals with a minimum of stress or strain. Directing Sonak to set the bichambered pot down (as she did not mix vegetarian and non-vegetarian pastas) Rita began dishing out the pasta pockets into wide flat bowls.

“You kidding me? Pasta is the BEST!” Asa enthused. “One of my roommates at the Academy ate cans of the stuff though, and they always smelled a bit off. Fresh is definitely best. Thanks for cooking Rita!”

“Gotta say, I’m pretty much always starving the last couple of days, part of how El-Aurians heal I guess. No one ever really mentioned that bit of information growing up, and it looks like none of my forbears felt the need to share that with Starfleet either. I swear, sometimes the elders logic makes no sense. They are so secretive about everything, it serves no useful purpose,” in that moment Asa sounded a bit like a petulant teenager, but also like a frustrated physician, realizing they don’t even know how their own body works.

“Anyway, this smells great! What about you Melanie, you a meat or veggie lover?” the ever inquisitive El-Aurian asked.

"Meat, I guess." Dox answered a bit more reservedly. "I... Grew up..." Then the young pilot took a moment as the topic brought her back to her past, which was an uncomfortable subject. But she was determined to push past her anxieties. "I mostly grew up on protien rations and the few things a military surplus Romulan food replicator could manage." She fidgeted slightly with her mostly empty glass. "I went a little nuts once I was in the academy, but have a lot of catching up to do, regarding trying new things food wise."

Feeling a bit more confident once her answer was out there, Melanie perked a bit back up.

"Oh that's a fun problem to solve!" Asa gushed. "I am ALL about trying new and creative things, as long as I don't have to cook them. Should probably start more basic there. OK, so what's everyone's favorite type of food then? Breakfast? Dinner? Secretly eating at midnight and hiding from your roommate while you steal their snacks?"

Sonak took a moment to think before responding in his usual deadpan tone.

"I do not have any preference, beyond what Rita my mate works so generously to provide. Logic defines eating as an integral part of life itself. therefore, if we look at life as a journey, each step is significant. Each type of meal is a life experience onto itself, each type of food a discovery and a moment to be... savored."

Sitting back in her chair, Melanie had a long and thoughtful smile on her face. "Wow. There's a certain... Poetry to that, Lieutenant. A thought applicable to more than just food, for sure." Then she sniffed the wafting smells of the meal. "But particularly relevant here and now. That smells amazing."

“Dox, you can try both, since I made plenty,” Rita interjected from the kitchen as she ladled marinara sauce she had made from replicated materials onto a second dish, which Sonak then delivered to the table. It was a break from their usual tradition of him setting and her cooking, but the pair were nothing if not adaptable. As evidenced by the fact that they were from neither this time nor reality, yet had made a home on the starship Hera.

"Thank you. I plan to." Dox replied enthusiastically. She then reached over to refill her glass in preparation for the meal.

"Have you ever watched pasta being made? Like the noodles themself from scratch? That's dang near hypnotic," Asa remarked, "Rita, do you make bread? I've always wanted to learn to do that...it seems like the perfect marriage of art and science. The science of getting the right rise out of yeast, but still the art of getting the right mixture of ingredients to taste right."

“I can, but seldom do,” Rita responded as she came out of the kitchen with the other two plates, serving herself and Sonak before scooting back to the kitchen to return with the piled heap of garlic bread. “Sonak often points out that my insisting on replicating the materials and putting it together myself is unnecessary, but I enjoy the ritual and the process. It’s soothing to me, and I enjoy feeding people a dish I made, rather than replicated. Well, I replicate the ingredients, and I don’t go so far as to make my own pasta… I tend to have a limited window for this sort of thing, and I can’t usually budget that sort of time.”

Settling in at her seat, Paris finished her explanation. “It tastes the same as replicated, it’s true, but I enjoy providing. So, how about a toast?”

"Sounds great! What shall we toast to?" Doc Dael inquired.

Glancing back across the table, Melanie held her glass at the ready, hoping that Rita wouldn't defer to her all the while running through possible toasts just in case.

Without skipping a beat, Rita Paris raised her glass. "To Starfleet. Bringing alien cultures together to share with one another, to grow and prosper together. Fomenting peace through cowboy diplomacy, and exploring the unknown to shine the illumination of understanding to expand knowledge on a galactic scale. To boldly go."

The words were cliched and the ideals old-fashioned, but the young woman from so very long ago believed in them with all of her heart, and that lent the words sincerity.

"Where no one has gone before! And making friends every meter of the way." Asa chimed in, raising their glass high, grinning broadly, and happily taking in the site of their new friends.

Blushing again, Melanie brought her glass in to the center of the table and added to the toast. "To being a part of something bigger."

Sonak was familiar with the Human ritual but had never cared much for it. It looked too much like superstitious magical incantation to his pragmatic, logical, emotionless mind. Still, he understood the cultural significance of it in Starfleet. And so, he complied with the ritual with sincerity, looking first at each of them and finishing with his eyes in those of his wife.

"From the stars; knowledge... where souls meet."

It had started with the well-known motto of Starfleet Academy; but to it, he attached his personal experience, hoping that all gathered here would one day benefit from the same fulfillment that he had... out here, among the stars.