Comfort Food

Posted on Fri May 22nd, 2020 @ 12:27am by

Mission: Cruel Meridian
Location: Mess Hall
Timeline: MD 02 - Morning
2249 words - 4.5 OF Standard Post Measure

With the blessing of the medical staff, Commander Hanover left sickbay after having spent the previous night confined to a biobed for observation. Whether one wanted to consider the visions as simply benign apparitions or the hallucinatory harbingers of a bigger issue, there was no denying that the marked increase of similar incidents to the one he had experienced in the lounge the previous evening was causing the ship's executive officer some mental distress.

The sound of water splashing against the floor of the shower stall snapped his thoughts back to the present. In an attempt to settle himself, Jared went for a run and pushed himself towards the limits of his endurance, forcing himself to stop thinking so hard about everything. The trick worked, if only for a moment.

As he zipped up his uniform to start his day in earnest, a sudden craving gnawed at him from the inside, almost as if a tiny singularity had somehow opened up in his stomach and nothing other than a large breakfast could satiate it. Sickbay had been devoid of snacks, and if he recalled the previous evening's meal correctly, Jared remembered it being mostly liquid in nature.

"Mess hall."

The turbolift obediently hummed into life, depositing the Majestic's executive officer on deck nine. The main breakfast rush was already over, but a few members of the crew were still lounging around before going on duty. Huddled in another corner, some of the junior officers marooned to gamma shift were winding down their day's work with a card game of some sort. Jared wasn't close enough to discern exactly what they were playing.

"Good morning, chef," Hanover smiled as he noticed a partially obscured figure walking towards him from the kitchen. "My name is Jared. I'm sort of new around here, so I'm still introducing myself to people. It's nice to meet you."

"Good morning Commander," Patrick answered as he walked up to the counter, "my name's Patrick though most call me Paddy." His accent was very audible as he spoke and he smiled even if it didn't reach his eyes. "What can I get you for breakfast?"

The young man looked worried and exhausted and clearly was only here because he either needed to be, or wanted a distraction.

"Hello Paddy, I don't mean to impose whatsoever on you, but with the stress of changing jobs and moving halfway across the quadrant, I realized I haven't had a properly cooked meal in a long time," Hanover explained with more flourish than he had intended to. "I know you're technically Captain Saulitis's personal chef, but nevertheless, you seem to take care of our entire crew. Thank you for that."

"It's my pleasure sir," Patrick replied, "besides I haven't got anything else to do with my time and cooking is what I love to do." He stiffled a yawn. "Just not sleeping too great the last few days, and we've got Min to worry about, and now Murph's worried about both of us." He shrugged it off. "What can I get you?"

"I was eyeing those delicious looking buttermilk biscuits over there. I think I am going to have two of them, but is there any chance you might have some sausage gravy somewhere to go on top?" Jared eyed the steam rising off of a small collection of the leavened breakfast bread. His mouth watered involuntarily.

Patrick arched an eyebrow at him. "Gravy on cookies?" he queried, "I'm not quite sure that's a suitable breakfast sir. I tend to serve eggs and toast.... that's what most seem to want."

Jared tilted his head in confusion and looked back towards the table where the food was laid out, only to spot the cause of the cultural miscommunication.

"Oh I see!" Hanover exclaimed. "Biscuits, not biscuits. I see. I'm sorry for the confusion, here," he retrieved his PADD from his pocket and showed him a photo. "If it's too much trouble, Paddy, I would be more than happy with toast and some scrambled eggs."

"How about... you tell me how to make them and I'll make sure I have them tomorrow," Patrick offered, offering a smile, "I'm Irish sir....I have no vast knowledge of American food. I know a wide variety of things but unfortunately I'm only Human, and nothing but Human and I don't know everything." He turned to his pots and pans and in no time produced a few slices of toast, scrambled eggs with mushrooms on the side.

Having taken a seat on a nearby stool, Jared watched in awe as Patrick began to work. Fifty-seven years of life had taught him to appreciate the dedication and discipline it took to become truly proficient in a task, and he felt that same appreciation now as he did in the past while watching an engineer fabricate a repair for a damaged part or a starfighter pilot nimbly weaving in and out of enemy fire.

The difference this time, however, was that the product was edible.

"It smells delicious, Paddy. Thank you so very much," Hanover gushed as he inhaled the decadent odors wafting up from his breakfast. The first bite confirmed his suspicions - it really was as good as it looked.

The Irishman beamed at him as he watched him eat. "No need to thank me," he said, "cooking is what I do, and people liking my food is my biggest reward. And I'll see about those pastry things for tomorrow, just tell me what I need for it."

"Then we are truly lucky to have someone like you," the older man grinned as he reluctantly laid his fork down on a napkin, wiped his mouth, and searched his personal files on his PADD to find a recipe. A few taps of the screen and the text file wirelessly made its way to the ship's database. "Simple food can be so delicious. Seven ingredients and a little technique," his voice trailed off. "That said, even the simplest recipes are beyond me sometimes. My daughters accuse me of being able to burn cold cereal."

Patrick smirked at him. "Murph's the same. He tried to make me eggs this one time, because I was really down. He burned the eggs... suffice to say he's not touching my stove again either here or in our quarters." He paused, leaning forward on the counter a little. "How old are your daughters?"

With a subtle movement, Jared spun his PADD around so that it faced Patrick in the proper orientation. The background image showed him and his two adult daughters enjoying a family vacation on the sunlit coast of some faraway beach. "Daisy's on the left. She's my oldest. As long as you keep it a secret and don't tell her I told you, she's thirty-eight," Hanover winked. "Skylar came along seven years later. I love them both immensely, and I couldn't be prouder of them. I tried hard as a parent - failed quite a bit because I was rubbish at it - but somehow we all made it through."

"Can't always succeed at parenting can you?" Patrick offered as he studied the two women. "You have two beautiful daughters sir and I'm sure they're equally proud of you. I hope to have children of my own too some day but now I'm happy to have Min in our lives. She's Murph's goddaughter." He gestured at the plate. "More?" He asked casually.

"Thank you chef, just a child's portion of eggs if you don't mind," Jared happily extended his plate for a second helping. "It's still the most rewarding thing I've ever done - being a parent that is. If I could go back in time and do it all over again, I'd do it in a heartbeat. Good luck to you and Commander Murphy, Paddy. Even with a smaller ship like this, I'm always happy to see children and families around. It serves as a poignant reminder of why we're all out here."

"Oh we're not ready to have children of our own," Patrick smiled as he served a second helping. "But I'm happy to have Min with us. She's a delightful child."

"Well, whenever the time comes, I'm sure you'll do well," the executive officer replied before taking another fork-full of eggs. "Min is an interesting one. I read through the mission report in my briefing before I was assigned to the ship, but mission reports hardly, if ever, stray from the facts. It's a bit too... cold and calculated. Life is what happens between those entries. I'm glad to hear that she's doing well."

"Have you met her?" Patrick smiled, almost proudly. "She's very eager, and curious."

"Briefly. Captain Saulitis and I had the opportunity to greet her when she came aboard yesterday," Jared mixed in another bite of breakfast as he continued to sprinkle in conversation here and there. "She is a wonderful child, and there is no doubting that she loves her Papa Murph. Besides flying the ship and mentioning her story writing, he's the only thing she was asking about."

"Yeah she adores him and I told him as much," Patrick answered, "wouldn't be surprised if she wants to be an engineer just like him when she grows up." yet he seemed a little disappointed, like he was feeling a little left out.

"Oh, I wouldn't be surprised at all if she starts becoming curious about how to cook like 'Papa Paddy' soon enough. I'm sure she looks up to you, and if she's anything like Daisy and Skylar, anything her favorite people do - she wants to do too. Case in point, both of my daughters followed me into Starfleet. I didn't try to persuade them or dissuade them, it just sorta happens," Jared shrugged and smiled broadly, placing his fork down neatly on his empty plate.

"It's Uncle Paddy," Patrick corrected absently as he stared at something just beyond the first officer. He picked the empty plate up, but then literally dropped it as his eyes widened. "Not again," he groaned, his face going white.

"Whoa, Paddy, are you alright?" Hanover's concern was evident in his voice and in his facial expression. Seeing the look in the chef's eyes helped him understand why his friends had tried so hard to convince him to go to sickbay the previous evening. "Listen," he lowered his voice, "you don't have to reply, but if you're seeing apparitions or other unexplainable things, you're not alone. I would like for you to file a report with medical, however. We need to keep tracking these events and find a solution."

"I've already been to sickbay. Murph insisted," Patrick answered slowly, tearing his eyes away from the apparition to look at Hanover. "You've seen them too?" he asked thinly, "Min saw herself too..."

"I see," Jared incremented the count of cases in his head. "Yes, Paddy, in fact, I'm just coming out of spending a night in observation myself. For me, there haven't been any other side effects other than it startling me. However, it appears to be a growing trend. I don't have any more information right now, but we're keeping track of it."

"That's good to know," the younger man answered. "I hate seeing Murph so worried, and helpless."

"How is he? Murph?" Hanover turned his attention towards a glass of ice water. "I haven't had a chance to sit down with him yet. He seems to be very involved in his work."

"He works very hard. So hard I often have trouble getting him home for dinner, and he doesn't want me to bring it to engineering," Patrick all but groused, "and he's of course worried about Min, and worried about me. He's probably glad we moved away from engineering level for now... there was an explosion once and I was waiting for him in his quarters, and the explosive went off nearby, destroying his bathroom and nearly killing me."

The executive's eyebrow arched at the story. He wracked his brain, trying to recollect if he had read such an account in one of the thorough briefings on the subject of the Majestic he had read during his journey to rendezvous with the ship, but then again, any string of coherent thought was becoming more and more difficult. A feeling of nervous anticipation hung over him like a cloud, almost as if he was sitting there just waiting for his brain and his senses to betray him once again with another apparition.

"Well Paddy, he is certainly lucky to have someone that cares about him as much as you do. Not that you need to hear that from me," he winked with a supportive nod. "Take care of yourself, do be sure to make a note of any further unusual occurrences. You are plugged into the very core of the crew," Hanover motioned around at the mess. "It's quite possible you may observe something that helps us figure out what's going on."

"I'll do my best sir," the younger man promised, "that's all I can do." He started scraping together the remains of the plate. "I have to start lunch prep soon...."

"Oh my, look at the time!" Jared shocked himself sans-apparition. He flashed an apologetic smile as he stood up to leave. "Be well, Paddy. Thank you for breakfast and for indulging my appetite for conversation. See you around."

---

Commander Jared Hanover
Executive Officer

Patrick O'Malley
Chef
pnpc Lhaes