Fleet Captain Addison MacKenzie - The Smell of Fermentation

[Addison MacKenzie]

((Outside the Slug-nasium - Ferenginar))

Having decided to abandon the likely-rigged match they'd likely way overpaid for, the two senior-most Artemis officers spilled onto the streets of Ferenginar, grateful that the rain temporarily stopped. As they started to walk up the street in the direction of many brightly colored neon signs advertising various cuisines, shops, and attractions, MacKenzie spotted a familiar face peering in store windows. She wasn't sure if the figure was confused, or looking for someone.

MacKenzie: ::squinting:: Is that... Doctor Bancroft?

Munro: Response

Addison thought she'd spoken loud enough for him to hear, but he seemed to be engrossed in whatever the store had on display.

MacKenzie: Why is it that any time I've seen him out of Sickbay he's either looked like he's lost, or confused?

Munro: Response

The pair of officers approached the doctor, still very focused on whatever he was trying to see through the glass pane of the establishment's facade. As if it was spring loaded, one of the pips launched from his uniform collar but was quickly intercepted and reattached by the doctor. Whether or not he knew the two women were there, MacKenzie felt it only polite to clear her throat as they walked up to prevent startling him.

MacKenzie: Looking for something, Doctor Bancroft?

He turned slowly, one hand still adjusting his collar. Though there was a smile on his face, MacKenzie could see the silent horror living behind the man's eyes.

Bancroft: Captain! ::to Munro:: Commander! What a… profoundly unexpected meeting.

Munro: Response

MacKenzie: Commander Munro and I were just about to grab something to eat. Would you like to join us?

She wasn't sure if she'd ever seen that shade of white before. Likely an unconditioned response. 

Bancroft: I… can’t think of a single reason to decline, ma’am. ::beat, then attempting optimism:: What are your cuisines of choice?

Munro: Response

MacKenzie pointed to the window in which Bancroft had been looking.

MacKenzie: What about this place? Do they have anything to eat?

She'd looked at the sign above the establishment, but it was in a language she didn't recognize. No time like the present to be adventurous.

Bancroft: I mean… possibly? It likely depends on your definition of ‘edible’ – and whether or not you believe morality applies to appetizers.

MacKenzie thought about it, then shrugged.

MacKenzie: What I don't know what hurt me, I guess. Unless I die, in which case you should know that the murder of a flag officer is treasonous. 

She blinked amusedly.

Munro: Response

Well. It seemed he wasn’t getting out of this that easily.

Bancroft pushed open the door to the shop and, rather than be greeted by a chime, bell, or some other welcoming noise, was instead greeted by a loud recording of a  Ferengi voice shouting ‘Hooray! Profit!’

(( ‘Appetite Optional’, Ferenginar ))

It was warm in the establishment. Not quite sauna-level, but noticeably warmer than outside, and only time would tell if it was too warm. And it smelled. Sure, there was the underlying current of herbs and spices, but it was dominated largely by the stench of fermentation. From a recession in the wall, a small creature blinked slowly at them, making a low burbling noise at them.

A Ferengi host emerged from behind a curtain.

...She should have stayed to watch the end of the match.

Host: Welcome to Appetite Optional! May your culinary thresholds be expanded. Table for three, right over here.

He gestured with both hands, ushering them toward a perfectly ordinary-looking circular table – three modest wooden chairs, a clean surface, and no obvious moving parts.

Bancroft stopped just short of the table, squinting at it warily.

Bancroft: It’s… normal. I don’t trust it.

MacKenzie rolled her eyes. If she was going to be subjected to whatever this establishment had to offer, she sure as Hades was going to get on with it.

MacKenzie: ::pointing at an empty chair while pulling out her own:: Sit down.

Munro: Response

Roy nodded slowly, waiting obviously for the two senior officers to take their seats first before lowering himself into the final chair. The doctor's rigidity was obvious, but he'd clearly been blindsided and was doing his best to roll with the punches.

Above the table, three menus blinked into view – shimmering holograms that rotated between languages in a slow, deliberate cycle. Andorian. Vulcan. Denobulan. Then, for one horrifying instant, an image of someone screaming – before flicking neatly into Federation Standard.

Bancroft: I’m sure that was just a glitch, right? Not a… customer testimonial?

MacKenzie looked from the menu to Bancroft.

MacKenzie: You'd better hope not.

Munro: Response

The commanding officer's brow furrowed as she glanced through the menu. Using her finger in the air, she swiped through various pages but, despite being in Federation Standard, she didn't recognize many of the items, and the ones she did recognize weren't generally items she'd prioritize if given the choice. It was going to be an adventure after all.

...And the last time she'd let Bancroft pick an establishment.

She glanced back and forth between her two companions.

MacKenzie: Anything catching your eye?

Bancroft/Munro: Response

The redheaded commanding officer suddenly smirked and stuck up her index finger, proceeding to holler at the Ferengi host.

MacKenzie: We'll take an order of the gagh and tube grubs in a garlic and bloodwine reduction for the table, please!

If she wasn't going to get anything tasty out of the deal, she wouldn't be the only one to suffer.

Bancroft/Munro: Response

Tag, and TBC!

---

Fleet Captain Addison MacKenzie, M.D., Ph.D., FASFS
Commanding Officer
USS Artemis-A

Executive Council Member

V239601AM0