New-Fangled Appliances

Posted on 23 May 2012 @ 11:29am by Ensign Rhett Brubwick & Lieutenant Lilou Zaren
Edited on on 23 May 2012 @ 11:46am

2,001 words; about a 10 minute read

Mission: Episode 01 - Project Sienna
Location: USS Galileo - Deck 7, Main Engineering
Timeline: MD07 - 1945 hours

[ON]

It had already been a bit of a day. Rhett had boarded the Galileo, gotten a physical, gotten the stink eye, had his head shrunk, met with the captain, and now he was on his way to engineering to make a formidable request. If the rest of the day was any indication, however, it seemed like this meeting might actually go smoothly.

He'd looked at the ship's manifest on the way over, so he knew who to look for. As he stepped through the narrow entrance into Engineering, he couldn't help but whistle appreciatively at the throbbing, pumping heartbeat of the Galileo. Rhett had no interest in engineering, but he couldn't help but appreciate the immensity of the forces that engineers dealt with on a daily basis.

He tore his attention away from the core and surveyed the room, searching for a Master Warrant Officer's pips. He had glanced at a number of collars before his eyes found the one they were looking for. When his focus shifted he couldn't help but smile. Starfleet was often the haven of the homely, but apparently the Galileo collected beautiful women.

Rhett approached the slight engineer with a smile. "Hi, are you the Assistant Chief?"

"I am." Lilou looked up from the open central ODN grid, peering up at the tall ensign somewhat nervously. He was smiling. That was a good sign. But she didn't know why. That was not. "Can I help you, sir?" she asked. Something needed fixing, doubtlessly, but usually those requests came through as memos and maintenance requisitions.

"I have something of an odd request, and I thought you might be able to help me with it." Although he noted the slight discomfort with which the engineer addressed him, Rhett chose to ignore it, instead sharing the most non-threatening body language he knew.

Odd request? she wondered. If it had brought him to engineering, she had a hard time thinking of anything that might qualify as 'odd'. "Yes?" she asked again, waiting for him to elaborate.

Rhett took a deep breath, "I'd like to install a small kitchenette in my quarters, if at all possible." He smiled his most convincing smile. In the time he'd spent on ships during his childhood, he'd seen only one officer's quarters with modifications like the ones he was hoping for. Either that meant that most officers didn't care to cook, or it meant it was against most regulations. It was good news for him on one hand, and bad news on the other.

"A... kitchenette," she said slowly. Well. That explained why he hadn't made a formal requisition request. There wasn't a form for that one as far as she'd heard. "A small kitchen." She wrinkled her nose, thinking. A little out of the box, not really a challenge, although - depending what he was trying to accomplish with a limited amount of space, it might be. She had some time. "Do you know what kind of equipment specifically you want for that?"

"Oh, not too much, really. A small range, oven, sink, and maybe a small ice-box ought to do it." He thought for a few moments before he added, "Some small amount of counter-space wouldn't go wrong either." He ticked the items off mentally as he went through. He was, technically, a senior officer and his quarters reflected that status. If they were careful, and used a compact design, there would likely be room for everything.

"Ice-box?" she asked, confused. Why would anyone want a box of ice when they could just replicate ice whenever they wanted it?

Rhett looked sheepish, "Sorry. It's an old-fashioned term for a refrigeration unit. It keeps ingredients cool until you need them, or preserves left-overs. It also had a partition kept below the freezing point of water to maintain the cooler temperatures required for some ingredients."

"But won't you just be replicating the ingredients?" she asked, suddenly curious. She knew cooking. Well, sort of. She knew her father's version of cooking, which was picking berries and leaves directly from the arboretum and making meals of them. And she knew the system of tools and implements in the mess hall kitchen, just in case she needed to fix any of them, but she wasn't entirely sure what many of them did.

"Most of the time, yeah." His hand wavered back and forth in the human "sort-of" expression. "Sometimes I have to make the recipe in parts and one part has to remain cool while I prepare the next. It really depends on what I'm cooking."

She wrinkled her nose at him thoughtfully and hummed, tapping her fingers against her toolbelt. "What unit are you in? Your quarters?"

"Uh," the man had been to his quarters exactly once since coming aboard the small ship. "I honestly have no idea." He pulled a PaDD out of his back pocket. "Let's see..." he mumbled as he pulled up the information. "Deck 2," he hummed and extended a hand with the device. "I'm not sure which number you're looking for, to be honest."

She looked at the PADD, then him, then back and forth a couple times, "It would help if I knew your name, sir."

He smiled, and shook his head. "Rhett Brubwick. Chief Diplomat." He extended a hand, and added in an aside, "That's what the quarter master gave me. I have almost no idea what it means."

She looked at his hand, then at him, and slowly extended her hand to shake his. "What's what the quartermaster gave you?" she asked.

"The document I pulled up." He pointed at the PaDD. "It's got my quarters assignment, the diplomatic offices, and apparently all the furniture in both."

"Oh." She said, looking back at the PADD. "Deck two, Corridor five, Unit three," she said after running through the available information. "That's your unit number. So you know. Two five three." She handed the PADD back to him and led him over to a holographic display, inputting the measurements of the unit into the system and calling up a spacial plan, as well as the ODN connection points, power routing, and spacial measurements of his requested items. "What do you need a sink for?" she asked as she went through the list in her head.

Rhett thought for a few moments, "Rinsing utensils between ingredients, I guess." The response was weak. He had always just assumed a sink would be part of a kitchen set-up. Then the reason struck him in one of the dear lord, you're stupid moments, "Part of good cooking is sanitation. I need to make sure it's convenient to wash my hands throughout the process."

"Right..." she said slowly. "Why not use a sonic disinfectant chamber? Smaller. Faster. No splash zone." And I don't have to figure out how to route water to your unit, she added silently.

"Okay." The statement was enthusiastic. It wasn't something he'd ever thought of previously. Of course it would work just as well, and would reduce the space requirements. "I think that sounds like a great idea. I'd never really thought of something like that."

"Could I make one or two more suggestions, sir?" she asked, considering the layout. "In the interest of energy and spatial conservation? I don't know much about cooking, but..."

Rhett gestured for her to go ahead, "By all means." Although he did enjoy cooking, he wasn't terribly particular about all the details, so long as they worked as well as what he was used to.

She pointed to the hologram, moving icons around the spatial representation. "I could install the sonic disinfectant chamber here," she indicated. "And a thermoclave unit, here," she expanded the view, zooming in, "we could install a photothermo unit right over top of that, which would act similarly to a range, while taking up one one hundredth of the space requirement. And utilize a stasis shelf with a temperature gauge. All of it would fit together, using minimal space. Would that work for you?"

"I have one concern," Rhett said, "With the photothermo unit being so small, will it have enough burners, or adjustable heat areas, or whatever that I could cook several items simultaneously?"

She tugged on her ear. Why would anyone want to cook more than one thing at a time? she wondered. Then again, why would anyone want to cook anything at all. Where would they find the time? "I could divide the unit into multiple wavelength-adjustable panels," she hypothesized, "and connect them over a heat-sink material to absorb each panel's thermal surplus."

Rhett nodded, "I suppose that would be fine." Most officers understood the idea of a home cooked meal, which was why having a chef aboard starships was becoming more common. What they couldn't conceive of, it seemed, was cooking a meal for themselves. "How long do you suppose it would take to get everything up and running," he looked at the plan and added, "also, I might need a bit more counter space."

She spun the hologram towards him. "Show me where you want your counter space?"

Rhett indicated an area to the side of the thermoclave and the photothermo unit. "A couple of feet off to either side of this would be wonderful. If this," he pointed to a stretch of counter, "portion fits right under the replicator, it would be perfect."

Lilou tipped her head to the side. If she didn't have to replicate and route all the water sources like he'd asked; if she just did what was there... "It'll take a while for the replicators down here to finish. I'll have to prep them with the specs and materials. That'll be maybe an hour total. Then for install.... couple hours, at least," she averaged, doing the math in her head. As she thought about when she could schedule the time, she had an idea that pleased her so much she smiled. She turned over her shoulder and whistled, "Rothgra!"

A younger, taller Trill hurried up to her side. His hands were a little pink, his expression eager. "Sir!"

"Ensign Brubwick, this is Crewman Apprentice Rothgra." She smiled. "I have a project for you," she told the younger Trill, nodding to the hologram. "How long long do you think it would take, from this point, to build this in unit two three five?"

The young man absorbed the sight, looked at her a little askance, then back at the hologram. "Three to four hours?"

"That a question?"

"Three to four hours," he asserted, flexing his hand a little.

"There you go," she said, turning back to the Ensign and checking her PADD for the time. "It's twenty-hundred now. This we can get the Ensign set up before Gamma starts, Thanis?"

The young man's eyes narrowed in determination and he nodded.

"Get replicating then."

Rhett smiled, "Speedy service. Thank you," he paused, realizing he had never gotten the woman's name, "I'm sorry, what was your name, miss?"

"Warrant Officer Peers, sir. Lilou." Her eyes gleamed a little from the praise, "You're welcome. Anything else we can do for you, sir?"

"Well, in a day or so, after I get the hang of this, I would love to invite you and the Crewman Apprentice," he paused trying to remember the name, and failing, "to a home cooked meal."

She laughed, ducking her head bashfully. "I'm sure we'd both appreciate that, sir. Thank you." She took a step back, "I'll leave you in his capable hands then. Should be finished by zero-hundred." She stood at attention, giving him a small salute, and headed to the lab.

Rhett nodded, "No problem." He watched the slender woman return to her lab. He whistled silently in his head. As soon as she was out of sight he turned on one heel and walked off the bridge, humming the melody of Tchaikovsky's 1812 Overture.

[OFF]
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MWO Lilou Peers
Assistant Chief Engineering Officer
USS Galileo

Ensign Rhett Brubwick
Chief Diplomatic Officer
USS Galileo

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