First Contact

Posted on 31 Jul 2016 @ 11:47pm by Commander Andreus Kohl & Lieutenant JG Randolf Eklund

1,544 words; about a 8 minute read

Mission: Episode 11 - Divinum Mundi
Location: USS Galileo - Deck 7, Callisto Bar
Timeline: MD 05 - 0830 hours

[ON]

The noise of clinking glasses and soft conversation slipped away for Andreus Kohl. In his head, he wasn't sitting at one of the unpopular tables in the Calliso Bar -- you know the ones, the ones where line of sight to the viewports is blocked by other tables. He wasn't sat at a table with a stylus in one hand and a PADD in the other. In his head, he was still on the Bridge sitting in far different chair altogether. Kohl was working to remember every moment in precise detail as he worked to craft his duty log for the day. And when that didn't work, when that proved frustrating, he starting to write his log in iambic pentameter instead.

The multiple duty shifts on a ship never failed to amaze Randy. There were always people up and about, no matter the hour. That was so unlike the community he'd grown up in. He usually enjoyed cooking for himself, but as he was still new on the ship he had decided to eat out. He paused to look around the bar. Busy, but not crazy. And, Commander Kohl was sitting by himself.

Randy wasn't sure if the man was interesting or frustrating or both. This was an opportunity to find out, though. He walked over to the table. "Commander? Do...you mind if I join you?" He smiled with a bit a mischief, "I was wondering if you could tell me what makes a good meal..." He thought a bit of turnabout would be fair play as his grandfather always said. And the commander had certainly asked Randy his share of odd questions. He realized the prospect of talking to the commander was actually fun.

Kohl raised a hand to indicate the chair opposite him, welcoming Randy to sit. "A good meal," Kohl answered without a heartbeat's hesitation, "is about striking a balance between the pleasure and the anticipation. Anticipation for the next bite, anticipation for the next course, and even the anxious anticipation that this meal may one day come to an end." --Kohl sipped from the amber liquid in his tumbler, before he continued-- "But it must be balanced like a perfect-score game of parrises squares. Those fleeting moments of anticipation must be overwhelmed by pleasure the food brings to all of your senses."

Randy sat, sighing. "So disappointing," he grinned. "In most cultures, a meal is a social act. It's as much about who you are eating with as about what you are eating. I was expecting that a man such as yourself would have valued the company you were in as a large part of a 'good' meal." His grin was even broader. He hoped the commander knew he was just teasing.

Looking back at Randy, Kohl's lips thinned and the fog of a dubious expression crossed his face. "I can enjoy your delightful company the twenty-something other hours in a day," Kohl said. He shook his head, just slightly, to express his disagreement. "Eating is a sensual experience. A sacred experience! (Food give us life.) There's nothing you might have to say in those moments that needs to come between me and my meal."

Randy's smile faded. He looked down at his own tray, suddenly unsure. "I'm...sorry, sir. I didn't mean to interrupt. I understand the desire to enjoy good food, but the culture I grew up in felt that meals were a communal experience. We shared our days over our meals, reconnected, reinforced the bonds of family and friendship. I...I thought that was a fairly common thing; apparently it isn't."

Being this far from his family, both physically and philosophically at this point, Randy had been hoping to start establishing some of those connections here on Galileo. Now he wondered if that had been such a good idea. "As I said earlier, I should probably loom silently more and speak less. I...can move if you would prefer to be alone."

Kohl raised his glass and gave it a little shake. The tumbler briefly twinkled when the light it one of its facets. "I don't have any food here to distract me from your looming, nor from your words," Kohl said. "Please. Stay. You literally cannot say anything to offend me. No need to keep silent."

Randy relaxed a bit, at least not tensing to stand and leave anymore. "You might really want to talk to my mother before you say that. She swears that I was born with my foot in my mouth. If there is anyone who can say something to offend you, I'm afraid you're sitting with him." He took a bite of the stew he'd chosen to think for a moment. "I appreciate the company with my meal, though. And I appreciate you not taking offense at my poor attempt at humor."

Buttering the roll he'd gotten with his stew, Randy decided to take the commander at his word and let his curiosity take over. "So, is your view on socializing over meals personal, or is it something specific to your culture or species?"

Pursing his lips, Kohl found himself already shaking his head before he could answer. "I can't say I've put much thought into it," Kohl remarked, and he found some humour in that fact, "Until you asked about it. Food is life. Food is the point of living. Enjoy it with people, or without, it's still as pleasurable on the tongue." Shaking his head again, Kohl added, "Best you not consider me a reliable source of Argelian culture. My parents are Gallamite and Tiburonian, and neither of them had seen their homeworlds since childhood. I suspect I was raised in a hodgepodge of Federation tradition and values."

"And I'm afraid I'm the exact opposite," Randy shrugged as he took a bite of his meal. It really was very good, though he always preferred eating with someone else as opposed to alone. "I grew up with about as little exposure to other cultures and values as a kid can get and still live within the Federation. And in my extremely limited cultural experience, breaking bread was always a social occasion. I think before I left for the Academy I can't remember eating alone more than a handful of times unless you count grabbing an apple on the way out to the fields or stealing a cookie from my mother's cookie jar."

"Was it difficult for you?" Kohl asked, because his mind went there. Of course hardship and emotional turmoil was exactly where his mind went. He sipped at his drink again. "Going to the Academy, I mean," he clarified. "How did you manage to cope with living away from home for the first time, and interact with people who don't even value any of the same things Humans do?"

"Sometimes," Randy admitted. "Then I realized that the universe wasn't quite the scary place my community made it out to be. Sure, there were some real jerks at the Academy, but they were just as likely to be other humans as Andoran or Bajoran or anything else. Once I realized that, I guess I just started looking at other species as a lot more similar to me than they were different. One of my best friends at the Academy ended up being a Tellarite engineering student. We were helping each other out. He was helping me get up to speed on one of my required tech classes, and I was helping him pass his fitness class. We just ended up clicking. Martz can drink more than anyone I've ever met...I love him like a brother."

Chuckling at that, Kohl's sapphire eyes stayed with Randy even as he tilted his head back. "I'd say you haven't properly met me yet," Kohl said with a hint of a challenge in his tone. An inquisitive smile came to his face, when he asked, "Where has Martz been assigned?"

"Martz?" Randy smiled at the thought of his friend. "He's an engineer, obviously, on the USS Astoria." He smiled as charmingly as he could, "And you're right I hadn't met you at the time, but still, I doubt very much that you're a jerk." He narrowed his eyes. "Granted, you like to push buttons on people just to see what will happen, but I can't imagine you doing something like that to intentionally harm someone."

Kohl's first response was a jack-o'-lantern grin. He made no attempt to disagree with Randy; Kohl didn't even look ashamed of Randy's assessment of his character. Kohl took one last pull from his drink, and then he said, "Aren't you ever a little curious about what might happen?"

"I," Randy paused for a moment before continuing to respond. He wondered what exactly the Commander was actually asking him. The man was maddening, but not in a bad way. "Sometimes, yes. Sometimes I am curious what would happen if I said something or did something unexpected. Not doing so doesn't make me boring, though." He grinned right back at the Commander. "I think I'm plenty interesting already."

[TRUNCATED]

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CMDR Andreus Kohl
Second Officer
USS Galileo

LTJG Randolf Eklund
Asst. Chief of Security
USS Galileo

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