The Meal from Time Lost
Posted on Fri Nov 9th, 2018 @ 3:58am by Captain Remas McDonald
1,394 words; about a 7 minute read
Mission:
S0:1: What Is Past, Is Prologue
Location: Rena's Quarters, Deck 2
Timeline: Mild Backpost
Rena smiled as she focused on the pot that held her newest concoction. It was a dish that Yarem loved to make, and it was similar to human soup with meat and some food that was technically classified as a fruit. "Hope you brought your appetite," she said over her shoulder. She had invited Remas to dinner, subtly as a chance to return the gift with one of her own, but also for the company. Rena tucked a lock of hair behind her ear as she stirred the soup-like contents. Instead of her uniform or scrubs, she was in a pair of dark, loose lounge pants and a pale blue top. She sniffed the soup before adding a red-colored spice to it.
"It is certainly in attendance, as well as the appetite of everyone on the deck who shares a ventilation vent with this frame," Remas smiled. He had come in a riot of colours, the clothing merely the casualwear he had grown up with. Loose dark pants, but the shirt had the homespun appearance to it being a collection of fabrics and colours all seamlessly sewn together. Here a length of silk parachute material, here a more down to earth woollen fabric.
"Thought for sure I'd be defending the door from intruders," he chuckled and held up a curling bottle with three spherical vessels as its base. "A bottle of alchemical wine from Trill."
A chuckle escaped from Rena as she paused in her stirring to see the bottle. "What year is that?" she asked, gesturing toward the replicator for glasses.
"2034 if the vintner I bought this off is meant to be believed. Though I always associated the colour changing wines of Trill to be a fashion of the 22nd century, not the 21st," he set the oddly shaped bottle down and had the replicator spin glasses from filaments of energy. "But I am a sucker for a pretty thing, and so much like this fine ship, I spent over the odd to get that which my heart desired."
Rena rotated the bottle to look at the label. It consisted of an organic, papery material that adhered to the glass, and centuries of wear and tear had curled and eroded the corners a little, helping achieve that ancient look. "This bottle is older than I am," she said in awe, her index finger holding down a corner of the label. "... and for it to be in such good condition... this is probably worth a lot in latinum!"
"500ml of the refined and purified latinum and a story fit for a minstrel's lute to boot. It is, without a doubt, one of a kind," he said, setting the glasses down on the table. "But such things are like the courtesans of Ceantis Prime: storied to the point of legend, but until seen first hand you release that the stories pale to the reality."
Nodding, Rena peeled her attention away from the bottle and back to the food she was preparing. "Speaking of ancient and rare things, this recipe is almost 200 years old and, to knowledge, one of the only copies of it is in the 150 year-old diary of a man who loved to cook." It almost sounded like she was bragging, but to be fair, it was something that really only herself and the one who gave it to her know about.
"Well now, that entails at least a sampling if not a full-on explanation," he grinned he palmed the cork and poured out two glasses of the wine. He watched it slowly begin to shift colour, moving from a soft lilac towards a swirling slash of ruby.
"Not sure how good of a storyteller I am, but I can try," the Trill responded, ladling the soupy meal into bowls. She paused mid-scoop to watch the wine, a whispered "wow" before returning to her task of filling the bowls. "It was Yarem, Kal's second host, who got the recipe," she began, moving the bowls to the table and placing them in front of two chairs. "He loved to cook, and made a career out of it. Even annoyed his daughter by trying to convince her to take over his restaurant. I still have the not-so-secret diary of his recipes."
Briefly disappearing into her bedroom, she returned with a leather-bound book and handed it to Remas to look at. "He always enjoyed getting unique recipes from different cultures."
“And here I thought the Rish had the market cornered in gathering up old stories?” He chuckled, leaning close to allow the raising curtain of scent steam to fill his nose. “Though I will admit, this tale has more meat in it than any Rish fable I could retell. This isn’t a Trill dish if I’m not mistaken?”
"That's right," Rena responded, taking one of the seats at the table. "Remember the Aunithox? Yarem got a chance to meet a couple of them before he was joined. He decided to write it in his journal, and he was lucky he did, because the Aunithox went extinct about a year later."
"I've heard of the Aunithox. They are uttered in the same breath as the Iconian's, a people long since departed the stage we humble player's cast about on," Remas said with genuine admiration. "What were Yarem's impressions of them? I'm curious to know, given very few people live such long lives as to have met any of them."
Scooping up a spoonful of the soup, she blew on it gently to help it cool. "The reptilian-like features were a bit startling, I do remember that. They had a series of... leathery ridges, that ran over their heads, and they were quite serious." Rena paused to take a bite of her now less-scalding bite, using the moment to think back through Kal's memories. "Yarem wasn't able to get a good look into their politics and other behaviors, but he found they were very matriarchal. He was sent to help provide food to one of the dwindling colonies, and he was actually initially met with skepticism, mainly because he was an outsider, but food is a fairly universal language."
"I can attest to that. Food brings people together, its a vestige of our social evolution. Though a fellow can subsist on nutrient paste and protein bar's, spices really do bring life to one's soul," Remas mused. He mused over his soup as he ate, tapping the bowl. "This is a storied meal if I've ever had one. Do I place thanks to you or Yarem?"
"Technically Yarem, for the recipe," Rena said with a smirk. "Or Kal, for remembering. Or me for making it. We are, in an odd sense, the same person."
Remas raised his gass, which saw now slowly shifting into a deep nearly glowing orange.
"Then a toast. To the memories that made us, and came along for the journey," he said, a broad grin on his face. "Had I more to bring to the table than a bottle of wine and my company."
"You have your own stories, I am sure," Rena said with a smile of her own. She raised her glass and tapped his, opened her mouth, then paused as her brow furrowed. "I've never been good at making toasts," she said apologetically.
"A habit of the Rish I'm afraid. Every docking a celebration, every meeting an event to be remembered. Here we few stand at the end of one leg of the journey, on the cusp of taking the next step. I remember as a kid growing up on my parents Homesteader, we had ship meet up where three other Homesteader's were in the same system at the same time," he smiled fondly at the memory. "Meet new people, make new connections, new opportunities. They could last as little as a day, or stretch on into the months."
He looked up at the ceiling for a moment.
"Reckon it might be a while 'fore we get such a chance ourselves."
Rena shrugged. "You never know. We could still run into someone new out here." She then took a sip of the drink before turning her attention (and stomach) to her food. "I think one of Yarem's favorite dishes to make was one from Bajor..."
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