Pink Bows and Walking Food (Part 2)

Posted on Fri Jun 13th, 2025 @ 3:44am by Lieutenant H'iri & Captain M'Raz

1,679 words; about a 8 minute read

Mission: Resistance is Necessary
Location: Captain's Private Dining Room | Deck 2 | USS Jane Addams
Timeline: MD002 - 2030

"I prefer things cooked, as well. Even so, you don't see humans going and eating anything raw." She shook her head sadly. "A chase is fun to a certain extent, but I would suppose that is the equivalent of catch and release fishing."

"You'd be amazed," Raz said as he leaned back in his seat so that the steward could serve the first course. "Things the Chef has served that were raw included Steak tartare, beef carpaccio, kibbeh nayeh, ossenworst, and koi soi. Most have been good and none of it violated the eyes and writhe rule."

"Tuna tartare," the steward waited until Raz had finished and said as he set plates before both of them. "Ahi tuna, soy chili vinaigrette, pickled fresno, asian pear, and taro chips." After making sure that they both had glasses of water and that Raz's coffee was topped off, he turned toward H'iri. "Anything else you need, Ma'am?"

H'iri considered the steward for a moment and said, "An iced tea would be wonderful to go along with the water. Everything looks delicious. I hope that I do not gain ten pounds tonight." She giggled again lightly.

"I'll return with it shortly," the steward answered as he left the dining room.

Raz watched him depart, taking up a forkful of tuna and chewing thoughtfully. "It will take a few minutes," Raz observed. "Chef doesn't serve anything from a replicator which means he'll be down there yelling at one of his minions about getting it done right, not fast. And you ... you've never had a problem with your weight."

"Never?" H'iri asked quizzically. "Have you been checking up on me all of these years," she teased.

"Educated guess based on what I remember of you," Raz said, deftly avoiding the question. Closing the door on his home world and his people had been hard, had taken a lot of discipline. Releasing the anger had taken longer. Imagining her in the arms of someone else, well, as the saying went, that way lay madness. "You always took tiny portions and swore you were full after a couple of bites."

She shrugged shyly and helplessly. "Well, my appetite had lain elsewhere," she admitted. Suddenly the tuna looked much more interesting. She took a small forkful and put it in her mouth before something more incriminating left her mouth.

"So, what do you think of it," Raz said, letting the moment slide into the past where it belonged. "I've become a bit of a fan over the years."

"The tuna?" H'iri asked, after swallowing her last bite. "This is delicious. When this entire affair is settled, I should have to see about stealing your chef from you."

Raz chuckled, low and raspy, as though it had fallen out of use, "You're welcome to try," he said, "but I outrank you and that affords me a privilege or two along with the crushing weight of responsibility and all." His gray eyes twinkled, taking the sting out of the words. "He's been with the ship longer than me. Personally, I think his loyalty is to the Jane Addams and not any particular individual."

"Well, there is a lot to be said about loyalty; but responsibility is always easier when shared with people that you can trust." She shrugged, as if the concept was obvious. "But trust is hard for you. I know that." Her eyes looked downward after she briefly smiled at him. Therefore, she chose to put some more food in her mouth to try and disguise her emotions.

Raz nodded his agreement. "You've got a point," he said, "especially given the current situation." His voice turned gruffer, tinged with shyness, as he added, "I'm glad you decided to join me for dinner tonight."

"I'm glad that you invited me," H'iri responded before allowing her hair to fall around her face as she shyly turned away. "But, please, let's not talk about the outside universe. Right now, there's just so much to be scared about, I would rather take some comfort in what is." She turned back to Raz and asked, "Is that alright with you?"

"Certainly," Raz said, nodding slightly. Before he could say more, the steward returned to clear the appetizer and serve a small tomato burrata salad, composed of heirloom tomatoes, white balsamic vinaigrette, and basil crystals. "Thank you," he said to the steward who nodded politely and left quietly. Raz watched him go and said, "I swear that boy wears sound dampeners on his shoes."

H'iri giggled lightly. "Do you eat this way every meal?"

"They bring, I eat," Raz said. "I have an educated palate, so maybe the answer is yes though I suspect Chef upped his game when the steward reported a guest for dinner. And that's not bragging. It's almost required of a commanding officer."

"I would not know," H'iri answered with an apologetic shrug. "Perhaps one day I will find out. After all, I have to find something to do with my time...."

"Thinking about learning to cook," Raz asked. "If so, I'll give Chef the night off and you can prepare dinner instead. Course, he'll complain a lot and you'll hear about it if one thing is out of place afterward."

"I was talking about becoming a commanding officer, more than cooking, Raz." She softly giggled. "One must strive for something, right?"

It surprised him, that she would have ambition given the state of the Federation and the unlikelihood that they'd get back to normal anytime in the near future. Still, it was her dream, so ... "I suppose," he said. "Though that's not the best reason I've heard for wanting a command of your own."

"Do you mean that being fed well is not something that Starfleet looks for in a Commanding Officer?" she teased. "You've really lost your sense of humor, Raz, and right now, we need that. Besides, I have always enjoyed cooking. Have you forgotten that too? All the sweets that I used to bring you when we were young?"

She then looked away. "Sure, I may have been bred to be a debutante of sorts, but all of that has been gone for some time." She turned back, her eyes slightly glassy, but large and determined, "I work hard, Raz. All I've got now is me and damn it, Raz, I'm going to do whatever is best for me. I don't make mistakes twice."

His expression shuttered momentarily; the past was not a place he went too often or at all. He had packed away everything about her in a tight box never to be opened again but he remembered now. Allowed a moment. Half-burned sometimes, slightly under-cooked at other times. Her early efforts delivered in the quiet moments. He thought it was meant as a private gesture but that was back before he understood. Not private but hidden, undercover, kept secret.

He let it go. Couldn't afford to return to those days when he had still had hope for a home and everything that went with it. "I hope," he said, in as neutral a voice as he could manage, "that we can get the Federation back to the point where that sort of thing is possible. Training and the launching of vessels. All of that."

H'iri considered Raz. She could read the signs. Something was bothering him besides the Borg. She answered practically, "One step at a time. We must figure out how the Borg do what they do. It should not be possible. But that's the only way to stop it, I think. Of course, that might be a suicide mission too...."

She allowed an index nail to come out and idly started twirling it in her head's hair.

"I think we'll start with some research," Raz said. "I know an Intel outpost near the Cardassian border. We can try there. See if we can access the intelligence database." He fixed H'iri with a serious look. "Because if anyone in the Federation knows something and isn't telling, it would be them."

"I have to wonder, though, Raz, where they came from? I mean, even Cardassians would have had information on a threat like this." She continued to allow her nail to twirl in her hair absentmindedly. He is rather focused on the Borg. Rightfully so. However, there was something else there. He's suppressing something. I wish he would tell me. How can I get it out of him? At least we're really talking again.

"My point exactly," Raz said. "Someone knows something ... knew something ... and my bet is Intel because they've always been really good about keeping what they know to themselves. If that doesn't work, we're going to have to figure out a way to get a better look at them. Hopefully, from a distance."

"That is ideal. While I do appreciate being decorated with jewelry, I do not think that metal would match my complexion well." She decided to take a small chance and asked pointedly, "Do you?"

"I've never seen you look bad in anything," Raz said. "Though I would hate to see you taken by the Borg. From all accounts, not a good look on anyone. Least of all you." Among his people, if you could call them that, protection of the females was bred into the males. And while she had not been his for a long time, the low rumble in his chest indicated otherwise. She could not be taken; this he knew to the depths of his stubborn heart.

H'iri positively beamed at Raz hearing the growl after receiving the compliment. "I guess we are all going to have to figure out how to avoid it," she concluded with a shy smile. Her fingernail retracted and she put her hands back into her lap. She opened her mouth for a moment, about to say something, but whatever it was faded; she closed her mouth again.

And about then is when the steward returned with the main course.

---

Captain M'Raz
Commanding Officer
USS Jane Addams

and

Lieutenant H'iri
Chief Operations Officer
USS Jane Addams

 

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