(Don't own, etc. I know it feels like most of these are fillers, but everything is integral to the plot, I swear. Or at least, I think so.)
After they'd left her office,the ride down to the mess hall was quiet on the lift. The six got off the elevator on the F Deck, Chekov and Joanna first, the former poking the latter in her stomach. She shot him a glare and he chuckled; the other four hanging back behind them. Chekov and Joanna made conversation as they headed towards a mess hall, soft enough that the others couldn't hear it, but loud enough to tell that they were talking to each other, engaged in a conversation both found amusing. The two led them to the observation mess hall in the middle of the deck on the left side. The kitchen staff had laid out what looked like tacos, even though it looked like it had variants of meat from Tellar, Andoria, and Earth. The shells varied in types too, but mostly stuck with the familiar round shape.
"They spoil me." Joanna laughed as she picked up a hard corn shell and putting it on her plate. "I told them I wanted tacos and the replicator wasn't making them right, and I get tacos two days later."
"But who could say no to you, Joanna?" Chekov said, and she rolled her eyes at him as he picked up a shell made out of a harder Andorian bread.
"A lot of people, surprisingly." She turned to the rest of the group, who were examining the breads on the table. "Now y'all don't have to sit with us – we'll probably bore you anyway."
"What if we want to?" asked Kirk, and all he got was a smile.
"Do what you want, then." She and Chekov both added meat – she a harder variant of lamb from Tellar, he regular beef from Earth – and headed towards the dessert area in sync, yet not talking.
"Do the two of them always do that, David?" his father asked, and David rolled his eyes as he poked at some interesting looking Andorian meat.
"Yes. I swear, if they were closer, they'd be the same person. They met when she wanted to learn Russian, and he was the Operations officer on her first ship. She was sixteen, I think, and he was thirty. They do everything together."
"She speaks Russian?" Spock asked tenatively. "I know she speaks Vulcan, Klingon, three dialects of Romulan, and a bit of Ferengi, but I thought she limited herself to English and Creole as her Terran languages."
"It's been a while since she's spoken with you then, I suppose. She's learned all of the archaic Terran Romance languages, along with Russian. A lot of the books in her library in her office are in Terran languages; I think she wants to learn every language there is."
"She's a linguist at heart. Uhura told me that she ventured into learning the last three dialects of Romulan, but that was because she was interested in visiting the empire."
McCoy snorted, "Fat chance at that. The last Terran to enter the Empire and come out alive had an armed escort."
"She realized how unrealistic it was when she met with an Ambassador who told her in so many words that Romulus and it's Empire would never fully cooperate with the Federation. I suppose Russian was her substitute."
"I guess so, then." McCoy replied, and forked more pulled pork onto his plate. "Spock?"
"Yes?"
"Is it just the way Vulcans learn that allows the brain to have room for all of that knowledge, or is she just an abnormality?"
"No, Doctor. You know humans tend to use only 10-15% of their brains. She opened her mind, and it got her further. It's not just a Vulcan 'thing'."
"I suppose not. Shall we sit with her brilliance and the whiz, or shall we venture out into territories unknown, then?" McCoy questioned the rest of the men, and Kirk shrugged.
"Most of my friends have already eaten lunch, so why not?" They dispersed to the dessert table, and then meandered through the crowd to find the Captain and Ambassador. Chekov was pointing at her with what appeared to be a churro, and she had her head thrown back in laughter as his grin was wide with glee. Their table was on an elevated platform, and rectangular and flat. The pastel and gray theme had not been lost in this room, as the chairs varied from yellows and pinks to blues and greens. The two of them sat facing the rest of the mess hall, their backs to the full observation deck, yet had a side glimpse of the window to space. The men approached the table, with two seats empty next to the other two, they sat facing the large glass window, David and Spock on the outside, McCoy sitting across from Chekov and Kirk across from Joanna. She smiled at them, and started picking at a small piece of what looked like blood pie.
"What is that?" Kirk asked flatly, and she looked at it, "It looks like Targ filling on a pie."
Joanna laughed as she stabbed the harmless dessert with a fork, "Don't worry, it's not Rokeg. I asked the quartermaster to not set out Klingon dishes until we get there – most people's stomachs can only take so much. I think, if I'm correct, that it's Andorian raspberry pie. There are quite dark though, aren't they?" She clipped off a forkful and ate it neatly. "They're very sweet though. Like eating cane sugar."
"That sounds disgusting." David said, making a face.
"It is." She stuck her tongue out, red from the berries' juices. The conversation then went to the grossest foods they had ever eaten, and everyone at the table seemed to have bad experiences with food, though Spock's experience with snake meat seemed to be the most disgusting out of all of them. They then turned to strange animals, and pleasantly talked through the meal until someone plopped next to Joanna.
"Captain, I have some news." said a young looking man with distinct facial ridges.
She sat down her fork and gave the young man a look of extreme interest,"About what, Lieutenant?"
"About that disease you gave me to dissect. I think I've found a way to heal it quickly instead of giving the patients pain medications and anti-bacterials. I'm running it by Doctor Crusher after lunch, but I didn't want to gross him out with the wounds before a meal."
"Wonderful. If you get this right, I think we may have found another reason for the Klingons to be interested in negotiations." Her smile was wide at him, and he looked down, blushing. "How are you liking the tacos?"
"I find them fascinating. You were right, I enjoy them a lot more than yesterday's noodles, but I can't decide whether I like the crunchy ones more than the soft ones."
"Perhaps it's because its your first time eating them. First time I eat something I like, the possibilities seem endless." She glanced back at the table, and smacked her forehead. "Oh, where are my manners? Borkka, these are visitors who intend to help us with our treaty. Admiral James T. Kirk," she nodded at Kirk, " Ambassador Spock," she pointed at Spock, "and Doctor Leonard McCoy, this is Lieutenant Borkka. He's a Denobulan, and our ship's pathologist. He specializes in infections leading to deadly diseases, and is helping me out with a cure for a type of virus that Klingons experience after childbirth. It's like postpartum depression but for the body, all sorts of bruises and welts appear. If we cure it, it'll be a miracle."
"Sounds like a big undertaking." McCoy commented, and the Denoublan shook his head.
"I think it's a strain of influenza like the ancient human papillomavirus, but the vaccine doesn't work on Klingons. It's a nasty bugger but I think we've nailed it."
"Interesting. Can I see your research?"
"Gladly! Most people think older diseases are all cured and that old ways to cure them are idiotic, but I beg to differ."
They wrapped up their meal talking to the cheerful Denoublan, who then walked McCoy down to the Sickbay. David, interested in finishing an experiment that had been put on hold by his Chekov and Joanna got up to clear their plates, then returned to the mostly finished Kirk and Spock.
"Would you two want to join us for a game of chess? Pavel's been trying to beat me, but he has no such luck."
"Only because you cheat."
"I do not, you just over plan your moves."
"Again, you cheat."
"Anyway, do you want to?"
Kirk shook his head furiously, and Spock cracked a grin at that. "If I never see another chess board again, it'll be too soon."
"I have a feeling there's a story behind that, but I won't press it. We should arrive at Qo'noS around 1700 hours, so I daresay we'll be dining with Klingons. Don't worry, there's pretty neat eaters." She and Chekov turned to start their game, "As long as you avoid touching their plates!" The two of them laughed as they walked out of the mess area.
"Spock, did you hear her say 'y'all'?"
"Yes, Jim. She says it when she gets excited, she always has."
"She reminds me of someone we know. A toned down version, but someone." Spock shrugged. "Do you know who her father is?"
"No, but since she refuses to inquire about it, I find it logical not to talk her into forcing herself to find out."
Kirk nodded his head in agreement, and the two got up from the table to remove their garbage. As they exited the mess hall, Kirk stopped. "What do you want to do now, Spock?"
"Well," Spock said slyly, "I was going to ask if you wanted another round of our chess tournament, but obviously you don't." Kirk huffed out, upset by the mention of his failure at the elementary game, and Spock chuckled. "We could peruse the decks, but I feel like that might lead to trouble."
"Since when do we get in trouble just walking around?"
"Every time we seem to have nothing to do and walk around, we get in trouble. Well, you do. I try to talk you out of it."
"What about going for a swim then?"
"I do not have a suit, Jim."
"I'm sure they stock them, and besides, it'll be good for your health. You never do anything adventurous."
"Swimming is what you consider an adventurous activity?" Spock raised an eyebrow at his friend.
"It's something we don't do often. Look, I think this pool is a fresh water pool anyway, you won't have to worry about that nasty chlorine smell."
Spock sighed, "I suppose so. Then there's a reason for me to take a long shower once we return to our quarters."
