In the Kitchen

Posted on Thu Sep 17th, 2020 @ 8:08pm by Crewman Thomas Jefferson

Mission: By Odin!
Location: USS Independence
Timeline: Current

Thomas was examining the possible flight plans that the Independence was likely to take from Starbase 10 to Pyxis Alpha 5 and cross referencing the systems along the way with entries in a large, leather-bound tome. He was always on the lookout for exotic ingredients with which to stock his kitchen. He was so absorbed in the task that he did not notice the entry of a rotund human with a long, pencil-thin mustache whose ends were curled with mustache wax. He was wearing a bright yellow, double breasted jacket with a red ascot and dark blue trousers that were almost black.

He walked through the kitchen with the air of a drill sergeant conducting a surprise barracks inspection followed by two lackeys dressed in white double breasted and dark blue trousers. He nodded in several times and finally said, "Yesss, zis will be entirely zatisfactory."

Jefferson's eyes narrow as he turns towards the invaders in his domain. "And WHO do you think you are to declare MY kitchen as zatizfactory?!?" All the while calculating if a single phaser blast would be sufficient to disintegrate the interloper.

The man turned with the laborious shuffle of a walrus. He removed a small pillbox hat and gave Jefferson a remarkably deep bow given his girth. "Oh, excusez-moi monsieur! I yam Pierre Saint Pierre, personal chef to his most exalted excellency, Ambazzador Edward Baer."

Thomas had heard of Saint Pierre, he was a hack in the kitchen and a pompous ass. Stepping up to him and invading his personal space, and through sheer force of will, he walks Pierre Saint Pierre backwards until he steps into the corridor. "And Ziss is where you will Ztay". Closing the portal he says "Computer seal this door".

Determining the issue settled, Thomas returns to his log to continue his research on possible treasures to be found as they hop from world to world.

He turned back to his task only to see his wife Marie standing in the doorway of the small office attached to the kitchen. See was looking at Thomas with a smile on her face. Brushing his face lightly with her fingertips as she walks by him "peur d'une petite concurrence saine mon amour?"

A loud pounding came from the door to the kitchen followed by muffled pleas from St. Pierre, "Monsieur! Pleaze allow me to hex-plain! I meant no dizrezpect!"

Before he could say anything to stop her, Marie activated the door panel and St. Pierre stumbled forward into the kitchen at the unexpected disappearance of the door. Glaring at his wife as she sidesteped the advancing walrus, Marie turned, blew him a sweetly sarcastic kiss and vanished down the corridor. The last thing he saw was her waving hand.

"Merci, Madame!" St. Pierre called out to Marie's retreating form, as his two deputies assisted him in regaining his footing

'always interruptions' he thought to himself. Taking a carving knife out of the block and setting it on the cutting board next to him he looked at St. Pierre.

"Monsieur," St. Pierre began, "I apologize for exprez-zing myself poor-lee. Federacion Standaard iz not an easy language for mee. I had not hexpec-ted to see such a well appor-shaun'd keetchen aboard a military vessel. Indeed, I have not seen zee likes of eet since I depaw-ted my own restaurant in Paree."

{"*in French*"} "*Then stop speaking English*" responds Thomas, actually hoping that that would also just make him stop speaking...

"*Thank the Sainted Mother. It is such a relief to speak in a civilized tongue*," St. Pierre replied in his native French. Not picking up on Thomas' hint, Pierre continued, "*Ambassador Baer is very particular about what he eats. He refuses to eat replicated food," Pierre pantomimed spitting, "and insists that all his meals are freshly prepared. I will take full responsibility but I am afraid that I must beg your indulgence in using your kitchen. I shall, as your guest, follow your rules and limit myself to preparing the Ambassador's meals.*"

Thomas ran through various permutations of conversations he could end up having with the Captain of the ship over this issue. There were no outcomes he could perceive that ended with him being able to keep St Pierre out of his kitchen. Sighing he says as he points with the carving knife "*you can use that station*" putting the knife back in the block "*and don't touch my knives*". Turning back to his book he continues his review of star systems on the upcoming flight path.

 

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