"Eggplant: the Other White Meat"

[Guest TParek]

Shaow was reading over the information scrolling by on the tactical screen, keeping a careful watch out for any unexpected guest harassing the Challenger in this unexpected area they had found themselves in. Every once in a while, she stole a glance over at the prim and proper Vulcan that had just given her a talking too.

 

T'Parek didn't notice the few illicit glances; if she did, she chose to ignore them. A little while passed, however, before her stomach informed her that she'd gone a little long since breakfast. More than a little, in fact.

 

She started for the turbolift, stepping into the doorframe before taking her own look back at the cat.

 

"Ensign, would you join me in the mess for lunch?" With luck, it wouldn't be a shock.'

 

JoNs's ears lay back in shock. Is that an order? Instead, she silently nodded to a crewmember to man the tactical board for a while so she could depart for a quick bite to eat. It would be for the best - she was starting to get a headache from lack of food. "Aye sir."

 

The Vulcan held the lift, waiting for the Caitian before JoNs entered. "E-deck."

 

The Caitian adopted a relaxed parade rest in the transport lift, wondering what this was all about, the food run aside. An officer scolds you and then invites you to the mess?

 

"Ensign, how long did you serve in the Caitian fleet?" she asked, pointedly.

 

"Six years. Prior to that, three training to serve in the Planetary Armed Forces. I am twenty six in human terms."

 

"Interesting. Clearly, they are more lax than we are. I hope you will not forget that in the future." The statement carried a tone of closure, as well as a gentle chide.

 

The young Cait became highly interested in the doors of the lift. "Do not blame current Caitian training practices based on one individual's transgressions. Yes sir." The tone was matter of fact and truthful.

 

"Very good. In the meantime, have you tried many of Chef's dishes?"

 

The brown-furred Caitian turned her attention fully to TParek. "Actually sir, I have not. Since being on board this short while...I have not gotten into a regular pattern of eating. There is much to do and take in. When I do eat, it is usually ...junk food?"

 

She barely refrained from wrinkling her nose. "That sort of food is usually lacking in healthful benefits. Hence the 'junk'."

 

"You sound like my mother sir."

 

"Do I now?" She raised an eyebrow again, stepping out into the corridor.

 

Open mouth and insert paw. Wonderful. Nice move Shaow, make the Vulcan even more "not" agitated with you then she already is. She moved out of the lift in silence (this is a wonderful concept) and followed the senior officer.

 

"Now we will introduce you to the foreign concept of healthy food. Perhaps B-vitamins might give you some common sense, as well as glossier fur." Was that a hint of a smirk the operations lieutenant bit back? Moving into the gathering area, she motioned towards the food case. "You may select something from here. Preferably something, as mentioned, nutritious."

 

Shaow moved with a casual familiarity; she had used eplicators before, but all of the Cait ships she had served on always had a cook, so the food replication tech the Challenger employed was something new. She chose a chicken and shrimp dish.

 

Bird and fish, with a twist. Interesting how some things never changed. Secretly, T'Parek wondered if, had there been a rodent dish, the Caitian might have picked that. "Excellent choice. Now, a drink," she coached.

 

The Caitian offered a whiskered smile. "Sir, I do believe I can handle the whole drink thing."

 

"Non-alcoholic, please," she added. Drunk cat. No no no no.

 

Shaow stared at the Vulcan officer and then started to chuckle, almost a purring quality to it, shaking her head as she did so. She ordered a non alcoholic drink, thank you, and placed it on her tray. "Mission accomplished sir."

 

"Very good." She selected her own fare -- a mixture of exotic vegetables -- 'eggplant' and 'squash' -- and placed it on her tray. "When you're more settled aboard the ship, and also less likely to be mouthy, you might be inclined to try something with caffeine." Addressing the drink-plicator, "Green tea, chilled."

 

JoNs very much bristled at the mouthy remark, her fur 'poofing out'. It was not one of her more dangerous reactions, it was more so the reaction she would have had toward her older brothers or sisters when they had started to get on her nerves. Not taking the hint, she opened her mouth. "Yes sir. Could I trouble you for a charting based on the level of caffeine in certain drinks?" She looked askance at the Lieutenant.

 

"Of course. I'd be very happy to provide that to you. As well as chartings of sugar and sodium content in foods. Vitamin outlooks as well."

 

Pick your battles Shaow, pick your battles. She began scanning the mess hall for an open table. She decided to tactically change the subject. "Sir, how long have you been serving with Earth command, or are you attached to the Vulcan consulate?" One ear flipped back in open curiosity.

 

"Two years with Earth command. I've been re-establishing ties with the Consulate, though I'm not formally under their employ." She sipped from her tea-mug. "I was at one point, however."

 

The Caitian nodded and took a sip from her own drink, simple H2O, watching the Vulcan with an in born feline curiosity. She picked up the knife and fork and started cutting the food on her platter, curbing her more carnivorous desire to tear into the food with her paws and fangs.

 

T'Parek nodded, seemingly impressed. "I'm glad the merchant fleet also teaches its younger members table manners. Your kind is more advanced than I had previously given credit for."

 

Shaow huffed a breath out her muzzle. 'There is no need to be insulting sir."

 

"Insulting?" T'Parek appeared genuinely confused. "I was being rather complimentary, I thought."

 

The ensign sighed. "Apologies, again sir. It would seem this assignment is bringing out my stubborn side. My brother always told me it would be my downfall. Honestly, our felinoid drive tells us to "attack" our food with claws and fangs. If I were not in...polite, no Caitian company I would forgo the utensils."

 

She stared at the feline again, this time refraining from comment. "I see. When on a primarily human vessel, I would recommend never letting your guard down. You wouldn't want to be like those ferocious-looking mongrels who so kindly welcomed us into their space awhile ago, would you?" T'Parek nearly shuddered, trying to imagine the Demons one day being integrated onto Coalition starships. It clearly would not work.

 

"Wise advice sir. And no I would prefer not to be akin to the Demons. They should have been kept on a tighter leash. She made an annoyed paw swipe through the air between them. "I can't believe they stranded us here with that malfunction of theirs, in gods know where. Uppity canines anyway. Bullies. "

 

"Agreed. Hopefully they'll retreat to their own little den in space and stay there, where they belong." Diving into the eggplant, she gestured with her own fork to the plate. "This really is quite good. I'd put this on my meal plan, if I were you."

 

"It does look quite appealing. I will make note of the option." Embarrassment crossed her golden eyes for a split second as she speared a shrimp. "Sir, I am curious, regarding this. You did not have to lunch with a junior officer, especially one who did not exactly make the best first impression toward you. Why?" She daintily popped the shrimp in her mouth, fangs gleaming for a second.

 

"There is a saying on Earth..." she glanced up, her eyes nearly twinkling. "Curiosity killed the cat, Ensign."