Posted by Lieutenant Junior Grade Aaron Williams (Chief Science Officer) in Mess Kitchen - Cadet Dawes Is Hungry on USS Challenger

Posted by Cadet P’Mala Dawes (Doctor) in Mess Kitchen - Cadet Dawes Is Hungry on USS Challenger

Posted by Lieutenant Junior Grade Aaron Williams (Chief Science Officer) in Mess Kitchen - Cadet Dawes Is Hungry on USS Challenger
Posted by… suppressed (5) by the Post Ghost! 👻
Though she was thankful that the NC let her into the mess kitchen, P’Mala Dawes felt somewhat out of place in the space. It was pin-clean and gleaming stainless, everything in its place as though it was rarely used. She brushed one hand through her short hair. Hopefully nobody would mind.

P’Mala laid the brown paper bag she’d brought on one spotless surface. She’d stowed the bag with her personal items, and was surprised it hadn’t been jostled into mush in the cargo bay–the bag contained several plomeek. She quickly located a too-big stockpot, a cutting board, and a knife, and began chopping the flowering Vulcan plant into chunks.

Though most Starfleet ship replicators carried a passable plomeek soup, P’Mala preferred the taste of grown-in-the-ground vegetables to replicated ones, though, she supposed, atom for atom, they were the same. She poured enough water in the pot to cover the plomeek and began to root around for an onion. A leek. A shallot? A human ship must have an allium somewhere…

Aha! She found a little bin meant for storing root vegetables underneath one of the counters. A couple loose beets, a load of Peruvian, Idaho, and Andorian potatoes, some withered-looking gourd… and a blessed bulb of garlic.

She threw the bulb, skin and all, into the pot. By now, the mixture was barely simmering, just as it should be. P’Mala stirred it, briefly watched the plomeek swirl around the pan, becoming broth.

Cadet P’Mala Dawes

While the broth simmered in its stockpot, P’Mala read and responded to some messages on her PADD: one from an old colleague at the hospital she’d briefly worked at in Kentucky and a longer update from her mother.

P’Mala’s parents were currently interviewing a sect of Vulcan apostates who worshipped an ancient water God in a compound on the shores of Lake Yuron–the subject of their next book. She let them know that she was settling in somewhat–that she’d send another message soon.

By this point, the broth was almost done. The plomeek broth had a delicate, almost floral smell. She decided to strain the garlic bulb and chopped plomeek, and began looking for a colander.

Cadet P’Mala Dawes

On Vulcan, the cuisine had several kinds of plomeek soup or broth. It’s as regional as noodle dishes on Earth. P’Mala’s favorite plomeek soup was not this recipe at all, actually–just one she’d learned to throw together. Instead, her favorite was almost as clear and delicate as water, made in one stall at one market in one corner of San Francisco.

Unsuccessful with finding the colander, P’Mala Dawes walked back to the stove and turned off the heating element–didn’t want to the whole thing to boil into nothing but burnt bits of plomeek after all the trouble she’d gone to make it.

Cadet P’Mala Dawes
The doors opened, followed by a sniffing sound and a voice : “Who is cooking a flower soup ?” Aaron walked out of the small kitchen corridor to reveal himself. His face goes from a frowned-intrigued expression to a brightened one. “Oh, it’s you Dawes ! Seems like you found the kitchen already”, he says with a smile. “Don’t mind me, I’m making gnocchi.”

At the sound of a door opening, Dawes jumped a little–but then relaxed when she turned and saw it was the CSO.

“Lieutenant Williams, my apologies,” she said, “I was making soup. Every time I move, it’s one of the first things I need to do.”
The man smiled and wave his hand, trying to ease the cadet: “No need to be that formal, we’re not on the bridge. Besides, it’s more fun to cook without the hierarchical pressure, don’t you think ?”

The lieutenant started to roam around the kitchen, taking a pot and a bag with a small squishy ball of potatoes inside. He filled the pot with water and put it on a ring. Waiting for it to boil, he turned around to face P’Mala : “So, how are you feeling aboard the ship ? No problems so far ?

Lieutenant JG Aaron Williams - CSO

P’Mala took a bowl from its shelf and ladled a couple spoonfuls of the plomeek soup into it, used the back of the ladle to squash a garlic clove into the broth.

“To be honest, I am still getting used to the ship. I do feel positively, though.” She paused for a moment. “It is nice to officially meet you, by the way! I believe I remember reading one of your xenobiology reports at the Starfleet Medical Academy.”

Cadet P’Mala Dawes

Putting the gnocchis into the pot and setting the fire on low heat, he chuckled when hearing the cadet’s enthusiasm. “Thanks, I put some of my heart into it. It was supposed to be my finals for my Medical course, but I kept writing some papers on the subject.”
It’s been a moment since he thought about his former doctor’s activities. Looking at the cadet, he could almost see the young Bajoran that serve onboard the Challenger with him just a year ago. Same excitement she had…, he thought, a bit nostalgic.

Playing his thought backward, he noticed something unusual about the woman. Trying not to put her in discomfort, he asks: “But tell me, you’re a bit… emotional for a Vulcan… No offense, I wouldn’t dare to !, but it’s something I’ve never seen before.”

(OOC: So far, so fun! I just needed to clarify something : I assumed your character was enthusiasm, since P’Mala jumped of surprised, and you used an exclamation point, BUT if it was not intended and it is not a part of your character, correct me. By the way, I like your writing style !)

Lieutenant JG Aaron Williams - CSO

“No worries, Lieutena–” P’Mala halted. “Mr. Williams. Aaron. I admit that I’m not exactly the textbook Vulcan.”

She’d had this conversation before and didn’t mind it. Normally when folks saw a green-tinted six-foot woman with pointy ears and a severe bob, they had certain warranted expectations.

“I’ve learned to balance, in some ways better than others.”

She poured the remaining soup into a thermos for later set aside for now.

“My mother was a human. From Kentucky. I’ve ended up spending most of my adult life on Earth. Until now.”

She paused.

“I feel rude going on and on. What about you? Where are you from” P’Mala asked. “Oh, and would you like a small bowl of plomeek broth while you wait for your gnocci? I made quite a lot. “

(OoC: Thank you–I like yours, too! And honestly I’m flexible with how others want to RP with this character–I have some broad goals in mind and enjoy the collab/improv aspects of RPing. How about you?)

Cadet P’Mala Dawes

“Oh, gladly, but just a bit, I don’t want to deprive you.” Taking a bowl from a near shelf, he put it on the table, next to the plomeek. “At least, I know where the flower scent came from”, he joked.

P’Mala ladled the last few spoonfuls of plomeek soup from the large metal stockpot into the bowl.

“It’s really a rather conflicting taste,” she said. “Like human cilantro. I personally can’t get enough of it, but my roommate back in San Francisco, a big ol’ Pakled named Grustle we called “Garbage Can,” even he couldn’t stomach it.”

“As for me, I have quite an ordinary life”, he began. “I was raised on earth, my father was a Starfleet officer and my mother a doctor. So I took the two of their job and mixed them into mine as a Doctor in Starfleet.”
Looking down, he continues : “I wouldn’t be here without my mother. She really pushed me to study when I didn’t want to, and when I was down. Thanks to her, I get to live a wonderful life here on the Challenger.” Thinking a bit of her, he stays silent for a bit, letting the bubbling noise of the water drive his mind into some memories.

P’Mala listened thoughtfully. She knew how it was to be driven in a direction by a loved one, and how any kind of separation was hard and complicated.

“My parents were always very non-traditional. Academics. Studying religion. You’re familiar with Vulcan philosophy, the teachings of Surak?”

She took a spoonful of soup, chewed thoughtfully.

“Father’s family line has skirted hereticism for generations–he taught me how to have a relationship with my human self, just as he learned to build a relationship with my mother.”

“Still, it’s really great you embrace your human part”, Aaron says, suddenly changing the subject. “You’re not the first half-breed Vulcan, but surely you must be one of the first that listen to their emotions. I don’t mind logic, but It’s a nice change you bring.” The way he sound was fully supportive. He could guess it wasn’t an easy choice for P’Mala to choose between two sides of herself.

(OOC : I really enjoy the interaction in RP, especially on STF, it must be the most interactive community I’ve seen. And if it can help you build your character, I’m glad to be part of it !)

Lieutenant JG Aaron Williams - CSO

P’Mala squashed a garlic clove into Willams’ bowl.

“I do try to keep human emotions in mind,” she said. “I can put what I feel into boxes, and I can choose to open them at the appropriate time.”

She pushed the bowl toward him. “Do let me know what you taste!”

Cadet P’Mala Dawes