Cmdr. Karrod Niac - Shaka, When the Soufflés Fell
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Karrod Niac
May 6, 2022, 12:23:26 AM5/6/22
to USS Excalibur-A – StarBase 118 Star Trek PBEM RPG
(('Bistro Manev,' Holodeck 2, Deck 6, USS Excalibur))
Niac: Maybe I should ask the Commodore if she'd like a Chef instead of a Chief. Probably better hours for one thing.
Across the table Addison raised her eyebrows and seemed to look inward with just the hint of a resigned sigh. What he'd meant as a small joke had apparently struck a chord with the woman.
MacKenzie: Well, I certainly relate to that. Third pip gets tacked on to your collar and suddenly any opportunity for free time goes out the door with it.
Karrod took a sip from his wine glass, nodding slowly. He'd thought of himself as prepared for the responsibilities when he was a younger man and had gladly accepted their weight at the time but he hadn't anticipated how much more heavy that same burden would feel later in life. Objectively he knew that it wasn't the duty that had changed but, instead, his relationship to it. Addison took a sip of her soup and pivoted the conversation tactfully.
MacKenzie: So, how did you end up on the Excalibur?
Karrod considered the question and any number of responses he'd already given to it since leaving his posting at Starfleet Command. He'd joked, he'd prevaricated and he'd even told the truth once or twice, but he'd never really told all of it.
Niac: I took ship duty again because I felt like I owed it to one of Niac's past hosts...but I ended up on the Excalibur because, and this may sound odd, but because you folks had just lost your ship. I...know a thing or two about that...know how jarring that transition can be. ::Karrod took another drink, composing his thoughts and mostly draining the glass.:: I thought here was where I could be the most useful. Or maybe...here's where I thought I was the most needed.
Addison took in these small insights without much in the way of reaction, just a quiet consideration over soup. If this ship had a standing poker game Karrod suspected the woman was an absolute terror.
MacKenzie: And what do you think of your time here so far? ::coughing:: …aside from our time spent on Demes…
He chuckled, relaxing as he found Addison surprisingly easy to open up to. Rostil was trying to get his attention about something but he jabbed his abdomen under the table, unwilling to be distracted at the moment. He looked across the table warmly.
Niac: I think it's slowly starting to feel like home. I don't feel like quite as much of a stranger here anymore. As I get a little closer to ...::Karrod mentally kicked himself, drowning out Rostil's incessant attempts to get his attention::...to the crew...I find myself thinking about a real future here.
Karrod noticed that as he'd been speaking Addison had mostly finished her soup and watched as she refilled both their wine glasses with the remainder of the fine bottle she'd brought along. Karrod nodded to the nearly empty soup bowl with a smile.
Niac: Rostil always said a clean plate was a good sign for a Chef...I'm glad you enjoyed it.
Rostil was now nearly panicked, all but shouting and waving his non-existent arms up and down to try to catch Karrod's attention.
MacKenzie: You know, had you not told me the dish was missing anything, I never would have known. I would say your substitutions were spot-on.
Karrod smirked and looked across the top of his wine glass.
Niac: Was that a Trill joke, Addison?
Karrod expected a bit of a laugh but instead Addison's face scrunched up, sniffing the air and looking around in something like concern.
MacKenzie: Is something burning?
Rostil finally got sick of waiting and began howling in his mind about the delicacy of the soufflé and why he never worked with amateur chefs and a number of other less polite things directed squarely at Karrod's upbringing, parentage and general intelligence. Addison's head snapped around to the kitchen just as Karrod rose in alarm, his eyes tracking towards the open archway that was now filling with smoke.
MacKenzie: Fire!!
Karrod slammed his knee into the stupid artisanally crafted table, rattling the plates and glasses and tugging the tablecloth askew. He grunted and began hobbling towards the kitchen but he knew what had happened before he'd even crossed the threshold.
Niac: My soufflés!
The painstakingly recreated oven, so meticulously crafted in the holodeck to be indistinguishable from the original model that Rostil had used for years, had no automatic cooking controls or computerized intelligence to stop belching out heat when the meal was prepared. Rostil had taken offense to the very idea of it, suggesting that a real chef would never rely on such contrivances. What that meant in the present was that their entrées, which had been ready and quite perfect several minutes earlier, had continued being heated until they'd been incinerated. Rushing and with tears in his eyes from the smoke, Karrod fumbled at the analogue controls for the stove and opened the door, catching a massive wave of heat and acrid smoke full in the face. To add insult to injury, it still smelled slightly of the rich bunnicorn meat that had been it's main ingrediant. He backed away from the stove, sputtering and coughing, trying to clear his eyes.
MacKenzie: Response
Karrod found the nearby prep sink and splashed water into his face, trying to clear his eyes and nose. Now in addition to being singed his beard was sopping wet. He barked to the sky as Rostil continued fretting and insulting in equal measure.
Niac: Computer, vent this smoke...and disable the stove!
MacKenzie: Response
As the air quality improved Karrod could get a clearer sense of the damage and scowled deeply. Retrieving a few nearby oven mitts he reached in and retrieved the baking tray which held the two ramekins that had held the evenings centerpiece and which now held two deflated, blackened bits of meteorite debris. Karrod moved the tray to the prep station and let it land with a thunk. He took a moment, took a breath, and then did something entirely unexpected. He laughed.
Niac: Well Addison, it's only the finest here at Bistro Manev. ::Karrod shook his head and laughed again:: Be sure to leave us a favorable review on Trilladvisor before you leave.
MacKenzie: Response
Karrod looked over to the woman in surprise, unable to read her coy expression.
Niac: Well there was a desert around here somewhere if you're feeling brave.
MacKenzie: Response
Tags/TBC
===============================
Commander Karrod Niac
Chief of Operations
USS Excalibur - NCC-41903-A
Commodore Kali Nicholotti, Commanding
V239509GT0
Niac: Maybe I should ask the Commodore if she'd like a Chef instead of a Chief. Probably better hours for one thing.
Across the table Addison raised her eyebrows and seemed to look inward with just the hint of a resigned sigh. What he'd meant as a small joke had apparently struck a chord with the woman.
MacKenzie: Well, I certainly relate to that. Third pip gets tacked on to your collar and suddenly any opportunity for free time goes out the door with it.
Karrod took a sip from his wine glass, nodding slowly. He'd thought of himself as prepared for the responsibilities when he was a younger man and had gladly accepted their weight at the time but he hadn't anticipated how much more heavy that same burden would feel later in life. Objectively he knew that it wasn't the duty that had changed but, instead, his relationship to it. Addison took a sip of her soup and pivoted the conversation tactfully.
MacKenzie: So, how did you end up on the Excalibur?
Karrod considered the question and any number of responses he'd already given to it since leaving his posting at Starfleet Command. He'd joked, he'd prevaricated and he'd even told the truth once or twice, but he'd never really told all of it.
Niac: I took ship duty again because I felt like I owed it to one of Niac's past hosts...but I ended up on the Excalibur because, and this may sound odd, but because you folks had just lost your ship. I...know a thing or two about that...know how jarring that transition can be. ::Karrod took another drink, composing his thoughts and mostly draining the glass.:: I thought here was where I could be the most useful. Or maybe...here's where I thought I was the most needed.
Addison took in these small insights without much in the way of reaction, just a quiet consideration over soup. If this ship had a standing poker game Karrod suspected the woman was an absolute terror.
MacKenzie: And what do you think of your time here so far? ::coughing:: …aside from our time spent on Demes…
He chuckled, relaxing as he found Addison surprisingly easy to open up to. Rostil was trying to get his attention about something but he jabbed his abdomen under the table, unwilling to be distracted at the moment. He looked across the table warmly.
Niac: I think it's slowly starting to feel like home. I don't feel like quite as much of a stranger here anymore. As I get a little closer to ...::Karrod mentally kicked himself, drowning out Rostil's incessant attempts to get his attention::...to the crew...I find myself thinking about a real future here.
Karrod noticed that as he'd been speaking Addison had mostly finished her soup and watched as she refilled both their wine glasses with the remainder of the fine bottle she'd brought along. Karrod nodded to the nearly empty soup bowl with a smile.
Niac: Rostil always said a clean plate was a good sign for a Chef...I'm glad you enjoyed it.
Rostil was now nearly panicked, all but shouting and waving his non-existent arms up and down to try to catch Karrod's attention.
MacKenzie: You know, had you not told me the dish was missing anything, I never would have known. I would say your substitutions were spot-on.
Karrod smirked and looked across the top of his wine glass.
Niac: Was that a Trill joke, Addison?
Karrod expected a bit of a laugh but instead Addison's face scrunched up, sniffing the air and looking around in something like concern.
MacKenzie: Is something burning?
Rostil finally got sick of waiting and began howling in his mind about the delicacy of the soufflé and why he never worked with amateur chefs and a number of other less polite things directed squarely at Karrod's upbringing, parentage and general intelligence. Addison's head snapped around to the kitchen just as Karrod rose in alarm, his eyes tracking towards the open archway that was now filling with smoke.
MacKenzie: Fire!!
Karrod slammed his knee into the stupid artisanally crafted table, rattling the plates and glasses and tugging the tablecloth askew. He grunted and began hobbling towards the kitchen but he knew what had happened before he'd even crossed the threshold.
Niac: My soufflés!
The painstakingly recreated oven, so meticulously crafted in the holodeck to be indistinguishable from the original model that Rostil had used for years, had no automatic cooking controls or computerized intelligence to stop belching out heat when the meal was prepared. Rostil had taken offense to the very idea of it, suggesting that a real chef would never rely on such contrivances. What that meant in the present was that their entrées, which had been ready and quite perfect several minutes earlier, had continued being heated until they'd been incinerated. Rushing and with tears in his eyes from the smoke, Karrod fumbled at the analogue controls for the stove and opened the door, catching a massive wave of heat and acrid smoke full in the face. To add insult to injury, it still smelled slightly of the rich bunnicorn meat that had been it's main ingrediant. He backed away from the stove, sputtering and coughing, trying to clear his eyes.
MacKenzie: Response
Karrod found the nearby prep sink and splashed water into his face, trying to clear his eyes and nose. Now in addition to being singed his beard was sopping wet. He barked to the sky as Rostil continued fretting and insulting in equal measure.
Niac: Computer, vent this smoke...and disable the stove!
MacKenzie: Response
As the air quality improved Karrod could get a clearer sense of the damage and scowled deeply. Retrieving a few nearby oven mitts he reached in and retrieved the baking tray which held the two ramekins that had held the evenings centerpiece and which now held two deflated, blackened bits of meteorite debris. Karrod moved the tray to the prep station and let it land with a thunk. He took a moment, took a breath, and then did something entirely unexpected. He laughed.
Niac: Well Addison, it's only the finest here at Bistro Manev. ::Karrod shook his head and laughed again:: Be sure to leave us a favorable review on Trilladvisor before you leave.
MacKenzie: Response
Karrod looked over to the woman in surprise, unable to read her coy expression.
Niac: Well there was a desert around here somewhere if you're feeling brave.
MacKenzie: Response
Tags/TBC
===============================
Commander Karrod Niac
Chief of Operations
USS Excalibur - NCC-41903-A
Commodore Kali Nicholotti, Commanding
V239509GT0
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