A Good Meal to Start the Day

Posted on Mon Aug 31st, 2015 @ 3:51pm by Captain Tim Williams & Lieutenant Commander Horatio Hawke & Lieutenant Commander Ciaran McIntyre & Lieutenant Commander Jean Reynard & Doctor Rikka Takanashi M.D. & Lieutenant Ryan North & Karil

Episode: Lost Property
Location: USS Highlander - Mess Hall
Timeline: MD01 0600hrs

Tim's morning routine had become settled in through so many years that he no longer needed an alarm clock. He'd wake at 5 and get a sonic shower and put on a fresh uniform. Then he'd read through any reports from Starfleet that had been flagged as urgent and delivered overnight before heading to he mess hall for breakfast. The mess hall had long ago been converted into the format favoured by ships such as Voyager; forgoing the impersonal replicator banks and separate captain's mess for a kitchen and serving bar, giving a more social aspect to the crew's meals that Tim had always liked. He grabbed a piece of fruit from one of the bowls resting on the counter top and tossed it in the air casually, catching it before taking a bite out of it. "What do we have for breakfast today, Rijan?"

Rijan was an unjoined Trill who had joined them as ship's chef shortly after their Dreyas IV mission, and who tried to keep varying the selection of meals offered to the crew for each meal - though he always tried to accommodate any requests the crew had. He'd made fresh pizzas at least four times this month already.

"This morning I have a choice of Ktarian omelette, with my special seasoning, or Bajoran Larish sausages, with klavaatu-flavoured pancakes and mapa bread, Captain," Rijan responded, busy with one of the numerous pans he had going.

"You know, that second one sounds good, but I've been scolded by my daughter that I need to start eating better," Tim answered. "I think I'll have a plate of your omelettes instead."

"As you wish captain! Your usual cup of coffee with that?"

"Of course," the captain smiled. The rapport he had built up with the chef over the last few months helped the morning get off to a good start, and it helped that his food was always delicious.

"I'll bring it right over," Rijan said, as Tim moved to find a seat near the windows.

The mess hall doors parted to reveal Karil and Seylan, both carrying trays. Seylan's fingers were carefully wrapped around his- krei'la and hivas- as though he would drop it at any minute. Karil's tray was distinctly lacking in the Vulcan dietary customs department: a large plate of steak and eggs. He herded Seylan toward Captain Williams and smiled. "Seat taken?"

"No, be my guest," Tim said, indicating the seats around the otherwise empty table. "How are you two this morning?"

McIntyre rolled into the mess hall, immediately glancing round for Hawke. They had worked their way through most of a bottle of Lagavulin 12 the night before and the Lieutenant was feeling decidedly worse for wear. He just hoped it didn't show.

Lieutenant Commander Hawke was always impeccably presented; he took great pride in his appearance and that of his uniform. Today was no exception and he looked every bit the military man as he stood near the replicators with a large glass of ice water. But someone familiar with Horatio Hawke would know right away that something wasn't right; the shadows under the eyes, the slightly pale skin on his face and the not-quite-as-straight-as-usual stance could mean only one thing.

Mac drew level with him, gazing fixedly into the viewing port which showed the stars slipping by inexorably. That made him feel worse so he tried to shift his gaze to his friend. He took in his pristinely turned-out friend. His eyes widened as their eyes met. Last night had been last night, and they would say no more about it.

Hawke saw the cringe on his friend's face just before he turned his back to the streaming starscape out the viewport and couldn't help but smile. "Best not to look out, mate," he said, having learned that lesson the moment he stepped into the mess. He slurped the water and added, "Glad to see it's not just me then."

Mac gulped, quickly turning away from it when he realised that the movement was what was making him nauseous. "Oh, it's definitely not just you. Let's just go and sit down - I don't really want to have to throw a sicky today."

"No, you'd better not!" Tim called out, having overheard the short conversation. He'd caught sight of both of his hungover officers pretty shortly after they'd come into the mess hall, and had just as quickly noticed their current state. "Get yourselves over here with some breakfast and coffee to clear your heads - or I'll tell the doc to withhold the headache tablets from you."

When Lieutenant Jean Reynard entered the room, after a moment's thought headed toward the serving counter rather than the replicators. As much as he would insist that replicated food was indistinguishable from so-called 'real' food 99% of the time, he had to admit the smells associated with cooking added an extra psychological effect. After glancing over the selection he got the sausage and pancakes, with a lone mandarin orange and a glass of juice his nod toward proper nutrition. Turning away from the counter, he was struck by the dilemma as old as mess halls and public dining facilities: where to sit when you were the new guy. If he'd wanted to sit alone, he could have stayed in his quarters, so that option was out. The captain was the only one present Jean recognized, but the idea of just inviting himself to join the CO was a bit daunting, even if he seemed friendly enough. Certainly his previous captains would have frowned on it. Then again, that had been as a junior officer on a ship with a thousand people. Now he was a senior officer on a ship a tenth that size, with different expectations. Nothing ventured, nothing gained, he supposed, and headed over that way.

"Do you mind if I join you, sir?" Jean asked the captain, trying not to sound like he was too nervous.

"Not at all, pull up a chair," Tim said, pleased that already this morning had turned into an impromptu group breakfast. He always enjoyed it when he could get his crew sitting and interacting with each other. "Everyone, if you haven't had the chance to meet him yet, this is Lieutenant Jean Reynard, our new Ops chief."

"Thanks, sir," Jean said, sitting down. He glanced around, trying to make sure he could connect faces with names from the crew roster. "Nice to meet you all. I look forward to flying together."

She had arrived late last night after most of the senior crew were already asleep. It was like she was a ghost which had snuck onboard without a soul knowing. She however stood out a little. Her purple hair swished as she walked through the doors to the mess hall. In her hand she carried several blue paper files, each with white lettering and the Starfleet Medical Logo printed on the front. Doctor Rikka Takanashi was an unusual officer that was for sure.

Rikka had her nose buried deep in one of the files as she walked, tapped at the replicator on the wall. A small bowl with white boiled rice topped with a pink piece of salmon appeared. On the plate was a small portion of soy sauce and two chopsticks. She picked up the bowl, a very unusual breakfast for anyone apart from her and found a table in the corner of the room. She hadn't yet reported in as the Captain was yet to be on duty, but that hadn't stopped her from completely changing around the Highlander's Sickbay. As she sat down she was too busy to realize that a few heads had turned to watch her, obviously she had been noticed.

Ryan had gone jogging through the decks of the Omaha every morning at precisely 5am, it was a part of of his routine that he seldom wavered from. Of course on the Omaha, the ship was larger and had far more space. He realized early on during his run this morning that maybe he would have to take up jogging in the holodeck instead. Not that there was any real difference. He mulled through those thoughts as he stepped into the mess hall.

Ryan caught a glimpse of himself in a nearby panel. He was athletically built, a hold over from his days as a MACO. He had short blonde hair, blue eyes, and a youthful appearance that had had most people thinking the was much younger than he actually was. He had grabbed a protein bar back in his quarters after his workout and opted for an orange he picked up off the counter. He scanned the room, searching for a someplace to sit. He glanced at the captain's table...wait...was that?

Ryan blinked several times and then started over toward the table, hoping that he was wrong.

Crap, he thought as he got a better look at the table. What in the name of all the powers that be is he doing here? I was never supposed to see him again! Instead, Ryan smoothed out his uniform and strode as confidently as he could over to the table.

"Good morning sirs," Ryan remarked.

"Ah, morning Ryan," the captain said, falling into his usual habit of referring to his officers by their names rather than ranks. "Settling in well I hope? Grab a pew."

Ryan sat down, still taking in the surroundings. So far Jean hadn't said anything, which was probably a good sign. Well, at least Ryan hoped that it was a good sign.

Mac sat quietly in the company of the other senior officers, trying to force down a bowl of what he assumed was cereal but couldn't be absolutely sure. "It's muesli." He was sure someone had said when they had regarded his bemusement but the whole thing felt like a dream - something happening somewhere else, to someone else - these team-building breakfasts always did.

He looked across the table to where the captain sat, holding court with a couple of his new officers. McIntyre looked to his right where Hawke sat, holding himself upright as though on marionette strings. They should really put their best feet forward. "I'm McIntyre by the way." He said eventually and to no-one in particular. "Most people just call me Mac."

"Good morning sir," Ryan responded. "Ryan North, I'm your new science department head."

There was a small scream as Ensign Johnson began to choke on his cereal. He stood up, hand on his throat trying to stop himself from choking. Rikka looked up at the man choking on his food. With a sigh she placed down the file on her table and wandered over. He was struggling to breath his face now turning blue.
"Hmm" Rikka said the entire room now watching. "You obviously were too busy chatting up that Ensign Female friend of yours to concentrated on what you were shoving down your throat" Rikka said slightly with a slight smile. "Not to worry though"

People stared as Rikka kicked him in the back of his knees. He fell onto the his knee's in a crouching position still choking on his cereal. Then Rikka's leg swung around again in a circle the top of her foot meeting with his lower back area with tremendous force. The cereal in Johnson's throat shot out of his mouth and splatted on the opposite wall.
"Now then" Rikka said. "That might bruise slightly, but your pride will take longer to heal" she explained with a cute smile and a wink. "Now try and eat your breakfast without dying ok, I really don't want that paperwork..." with that she returned to her seat, picked up her medical files and continued with her breakfast.

McIntyre looked across the table at Hawke having turned back from the unconventional medical scene with a wry smile spreading across his face. "That's certainly one way of doing it." He waved a hand to the Doctor. "C'mon and join us, Doc."

Hawke watched the unorthodox procedure with great interest and a modicum of shock. As Mac waved the doctor over, he gently pushed his bowl of cereal away, finding himself suddenly without an appetite.

Rikka picked up her bowl of Rice and Salmon and moved over to the other table. She gave everyone a polite nod as she sat down and once again picked up her medical files.

"You must be Doctor Takanashi," Tim said, as the doctor came and joined them. He knew that she'd have arrived at some point during the night, but figured that she'd probably have slept late this morning to shake off the shuttle lag. "Welcome aboard."

"Thankyou Captain" Rikka said as she munched away. She didn't want to seem too strange on her first meeting so she kept a low profile,

Tim swallowed the last of his omelette and pushed his chair away from the table. "You'll have to come and see me later today when you're all settled in - get all of the usual protocols and stuff out of the way. In the meantime; enjoy your breakfasts everyone; I'll see you on the bridge at seven." As he moved to take his plate to the replicator, he paused by Mac, whispering mischievously; "We had some more torpedoes brought aboard by the last transport that need to be inventoried. You can work off your hangover by supervising them when you're done."

"Yes, sir." Mac seethed quietly. There was nothing which settled the stomach quite like counting crates of warheads and unruly piles of casings. This was a punishment, and no doubt.

"See you on the bridge," Tim called back, as he headed away. Rijan met him en-route to trade his empty plate for a mug of steaming coffee to take with him, recycling the plate for the captain just as Tim left the room.

Hawke stood up slowly, but steadily, grabbed his half-finished bowl and empty water glass and headed for the replicator. "I have to get started on some work, so I'll see you all soon," he said as he moved away. To Mac he added, "Maybe the doctor here has an unorthodox hangover cure for you, mate?" before continuing on his way and trying to forget his own fragile condition.

"I'll suffer in silence like my forebears, thanks." Mac replied with a forced smile.