Another XO, another meal. But Ghubari’s shift in mood lately made it… actually she didn’t know what it was. Some might say ambivalence, others a measure of nonchalantness. Ghubari could only sum it up by saying: things happened.

Her offer to cook for Wallace was sincere, so she arranged a time the next day for them to have lunch as promised.

In the holosuite, at 1300 hours, Ghubari found herself inside the familiar whitewashed building she opted for door this program. Its open floor plan allowed air and light to move, giving a person space to breathe, to feel at ease. In the middle was a long counter with a sink that formed an island and was parallel to the cooking area that overlooked the back ‘yard’. Said yard was really just a dry ground with an improvised garden that opened up onto a set of plains with acacia trees dotted here and there and dry grasses. If there was a source of water, it was no where to be seen.

Dressed in a black tank top and a intricately patterned black, green, white and purple wrap skirt, Ghubari was at the kitchen island , stirring things into a simmering sauce. Despite Jennifer saying she didn’t like spicy food, Ghubari figured she should at least attempt her signature dish, albeit with some modifications. The pungent smell of the curry filled the space, but to her it smelled like home. The the left of the entryway was a sitting area with a sofa, coffee table and chairs, and to the right was a dining area that had a lovely view of the front of the house and the little village they were situated in.

Fl. Captain Koraia, CO