=/\=
Stardate 52649
"Try one of these appetizers, Tuvix. What do you think?"
I nibbled on one. "Very tasty, Dad. I love the slight tang after the cheese melts on the tongue."
"Oh, dear. I may not be able to serve these, then."
"Why not? They're delicious."
Dad explained that the Kadi follow an ascetic lifestyle. They eschew anything that may stimulate their senses or appetites. Quite literally, in the case of appetites. Their food is very bland and all but tasteless. He had me try another hors d'oeuvre, from a recipe the abbot had sent him.
I sampled the dish. It was mild, but not bland. It wasn't tasteless. "I like this, Dad. The flavor is very subtle. It's more like a Vulcan dish than a Talaxian one, to be sure." I could see he was still worried. He slipped out of the kitchen to offer a sample of the appetizers he'd prepared to Tom and B'Elanna, who were enjoying a quiet dinner. They seemed to like them, too. I couldn't help remembering what Tom had said to me, shortly after my place on Voyager had been confirmed. I'd mentioned I would advise Dad to tone down his spice-shaking arm. Tom's reply to me was, "Good luck with that, Tuvix." And, I'm sad to say, Tom was right and I was wrong. Dad's biggest challenge as head chef has always been remembering that everyone on the ship doesn't care for the spicy Talaxian cuisine Dad prefers.
I'd already offered to help him prepare the ambassador's dishes, but Dad said he'd get back to me on that. I'm still waiting for his answer. Although Dad usually exudes a great deal of confidence in any task the captain assigns him, this one has him more than a little flummoxed.
The Kadi colony has a theocratic government, since the first settlers of the planet were monks. Most of the population are civilians, or, in religious terms, the laity, but the monastery leaders function as the government whenever interplanetary visitors come to call, or more likely, to bargain. The planet itself (called Kad, after their deity) is blessed with minerals deposits of unusually pure quality. Even more are available in asteroid field that is positioned in the next planetary orbiting position away from their sun. They won't trade with just anyone. They have exacting moral standards and will only agree to engage in trade and commerce with those species who are judged to be trustworthy.
Ambassador Tomin, one of the monks and the assistant to their abbot, will live board Voyager for a week to assess our crew. He will decide if our moral character is sufficiently high to qualify us as trading partners. Captain Janeway and Father will be visiting the colony at the same time to represent our crew. When I first heard about this plan, I wondered if the Kadi were like the Varro, but they apparently aren't that rigid. Although they disdain cultural contamination from more worldly groups, they aren't xenophobic. Dad, as Voyager's "ambassador," has been tasked with providing for all Tomin's needs during his stay.
While Dad was circulating around the Mess Hall, handing out samples of his appetizers and asking for the crew's opinions, I noticed B'Elanna get out of her seat and cross over to the other end of the room, where Seven was sitting. Their conversation turned into an altercation. Seven had taken upon herself the task of studying mating practices. From the excerpts B'Elanna read from Seven's PADD of notes (at sufficient volume so that everyone in the Mess Hall must have heard every word), Seven's behavior seemed to fall more in the "stalking" category. Had she spoken to me about it beforehand, I would have urged Seven to explore the subject in the database first. I certainly wouldn't have suggested she record when Tom and B'Elanna resumed intimate relations after an argument - especially if lurking in the corridor on Deck 9, Section 12 in the middle of Gamma shift would be the way she obtained her data. While it's certainly true that when Tom and B'Elanna are enjoying their physical relationship, everyone in the area knows exactly what's going on, by tacit agreement, the crew doesn't usually take detailed notes - I don't think. If they have, no one has ever shared them with me.
The situation was escalating rapidly. Even though I was off-duty, I approached the potential combatants. Before I reached them, however, Tom threw his arms around B'Elanna and held her away from Seven, while Dad moved in front of our former Borg, effectively moving the two farther apart. No one suffered a broken nose (as B'Elanna threatened to do to Seven), and Tom successfully dragged his girlfriend out of the Mess Hall.
While I cleaned up Tom and B'Elanna's table, since they hadn't had the chance to do that before the situation became so volatile, I pondered what I should do about the situation. While it was a private matter in some ways, having the chief engineer and the head of Astrometrics ready to do battle was not optimal at any time. It certainly wasn't conducive for the pleasant visit with Ambassador Tomin we planned. The negotiations were sensitive enough as it was. When I mentioned to Dad I really should report this incident to Father, he heartily agreed. "We don't want any trouble while Tomin is here!"
Supplemental
I contacted Father, who thanked me for the warning about possible "bad blood" between B'Elanna and Seven. He must have told the captain, because she contacted me a few minutes ago and asked me to describe the entire incident in detail. When I was finished, I could almost hear the captain rubbing her forehead, as she does whenever a headache threatens. She promised to speak to Seven in the morning, before she and Father leave for the Kadi colony. "I can't allow that sort of behavior to continue," she commented. "Voyager isn't a nature preserve!" While I quite agree, I'm not sure Seven will see it that way.
=/\=
Stardate 52651
Dad doesn't believe he'll need my assistance cooking for the ambassador after all. Apparently Tomin has indicated he's more flexible in his food choices than the Abbot indicated he might be. I was glad to hear that, as I have quite enough "on my plate," so to speak, as it is.
Captain Janeway's little talk with Seven must have made an impression. The captain suggested she would learn more about mating practices by trying the first step - dating - for herself. (Seven has apparently already done her research, accumulating gigaquads of data on romantic relationships.) Seven made a list of those crew members she might wish to ask out for a date.
I learned about this when I saw Harry sitting in the corner of the Mess Hall, looking quite morose. Fearing he was thinking of Tal again, I asked him what was wrong. His mopey mood had more to do with our resident former Borg than the long-departed Varro engineer. Harry had seen her in Astrometrics, perusing a list of possible romantic partners - and Harry hadn't even made her list of prospective dates.
Lieutenant William Chapman, is a very nice fellow, to be sure, but he's not someone I would think of as a good match for Seven. He is very intelligent, of course, but he's never struck me as the type of man who would be confident enough to deal with our Seven. She appreciates strength, and I can't see Lieutenant Chapman standing toe to toe with her. Harry would have been a "safe" first date. After all, she hit him on the head when she wanted to return to the Collective (only days after her separation from the Borg), and she humiliated him publicly when she demoted him to Two of Ten. Despite these actions, he's still her friend. I'm sure he'd be very solicitous of her lack of sophistication during a "first date." Many crewmen (mainly the men) have made fun of Harry's abortive suggestion for a "stroll through the Ktarian moonrise holodeck program" with him. Seven misinterpreted his suggestion to go there as a request to copulate. I'm sure he'd have liked to have copulated with her, but he knew it wasn't in her best interests to do so at that time and withdrew the offer. I have much more respect for Harry than I do for those who make fun of him for backing off from a "sure thing."
The Doctor has been advising Seven on the subject of dating, which raises all sorts of alarm bells for me. As Kes once told me, he can be a little TOO interested in the crew's mating habits. He hasn't had that much practice dating himself - I'm hard pressed to think of anyone he's dated, other than Dr. Denara Pel, the Vidiian physician, or Charlene, his wife in his family holodeck program. While I don't have much experience with dating since I've been Tuvix, either, I've plenty of memories from my fathers about romantic attachments. I know the course of true love, as Shakespeare wrote, doesn't always run smooth. (There's a reason most Vulcan marriages are arranged by the parents, when the prospective bride and groom are still children. Vulcans consider "dating" to be an illogical method of choosing a life-long mate.)
I commiserated with Harry by saying I probably wasn't on her list, either. Harry perked up after I mentioned that, because I wasn't. The only other candidate she'd even been willing to consider was Ensign Bronowski. Harry confided to me that Ensign Bronowski has no sense of humor. I nodded sagely, thinking that the ensign might have actually been a good match for Seven. She isn't particularly known for her sense of humor, either.
=/\=
Stardate 52654
Everyone is talking about Seven's date with Lieutenant Chapman. Since it went so badly for him, I doubt there will be a second. He was dancing with Seven and ended up with a dislocated arm. How he managed that while dancing, I have no idea. And he should have known better than to order a lobster for her dinner, instead of permitting her to choose her own entrée. From several of the crew who "just happened" to visit Sandrines during the date, she had trouble knowing how to eat one. She also seemed disconcerted by the prospect of eating something with an exoskeleton, since she has one herself.
After Lieutenant Chapman was taken to Sickbay for treatment of his injury by Tom, who was on duty there last night, Seven danced more successfully with our Doctor. Perhaps she should have asked him out for her first date. She wouldn't have had to worry about dislocating his arm.
Harry asked me if I'd placed my bet yet. I had no idea what he was talking about, until he explained that Tom and the Doctor have posted a wager. It concerns Seven coming with a date at the reception which will be held for Tomin tomorrow evening. Many of the crew are betting their replicator rations on whether Tom or the Doctor will win the bet. Bets upon bets. I'm afraid, in this instance, my Vulcan nature comes to the fore. I'd prefer to earn my replicator rations the old fashioned way, not fritter them away trying to guess which of two crew mates have guessed correctly about an event that will occur in the future. The wager seems quite complicated to me. For the Doctor to win, Seven must arrive with a date, still be on good terms with her date at the end of the evening, and they cannot be involved in a diplomatic incident during the course of the reception. If I were going to join in with the other bettors, I'd back Tom. That's a lot to ask of Seven so soon in her personal study of dating and mating.
Concerning Tomin, the ambassador is giving Dad fits. If Tomin is acting in what the Kadi think of as an ascetic lifestyle, I would hate to see what they'd consider hedonistic. He's been running Dad ragged. The spiciness of his cooking is the least of Dad's troubles. Tomin has been spending an inordinate amount of time on the holodeck, indulging in all sorts of programs which emphasize sensual pleasures, particularly of the sexual variety. At least he isn't chasing after any of our humanoid crew - that I know of. Dad is worried that the trade negotiations will break down if the Kadi abbot finds out what Tomin has been up to on Voyager. I don't know what to tell him. With any luck, Tomin will manage to sow his wild oats and calm down before the abbot comes to Voyager to finalize the trade agreement. The Kadi have many commodities we need. B'Elanna has been complaining about our lack of raw materials. We can't build shuttles out of thin air (even though we seem to lose them in thin air often enough).
=/\=
Stardate 52556
I would like to report that the reception for Tomin went well; that the Doctor won his bet with Tom because Seven was the impeccable date; and Tomin behaved himself in a sober, dignified manner, befitting the anointed representative of his monastery. I'd like to report that. I can't. Since Father had assigned me to oversee the evening in his absence, I was there; and I saw it all. It was like two shuttles crashing in slow motion. The evening was a fiasco.
The Doctor was Seven's date. Tom had forgotten to exclude him from the list of eligible "bachelors." He was dismayed when he saw them walk in together. Initially, Seven's behavior was impressive. She offered a lovely toast to commemorate the occasion. Tom conceded the Doctor had won their wager. For the next month, Tom would work double shifts in Sickbay. When I heard Tom say this to the Doctor, I was relieved I had refrained from placing any bets of my own. I would have lost.
Unfortunately, Seven overheard Tom's comment and demanded an explanation. She was not happy about being the subject of ship's gossip, or that bets were being placed concerning her behavior. While Tom had conceded the bet to the Doctor at this point, all its conditions had not yet been met. Seven stomped away from the Doctor. The evening had not ended with the parties being on good terms with one another. And as for there not being a diplomatic incident . . .
During this entire visit, Tomin had been enjoying himself by eating and drinking everything he could find - especially if what he was consuming was stimulating to the senses. At the reception, he'd overindulged in syntheholic beverages. He was staggering around the Mess Hall in a state of extreme inebriation. The only individual I've ever known who's responded in a similar manner to synthehol is Seven of Nine. She became very drunk when we were celebrating the end of the slipstream engine building project (another disaster, as I recall). Since Seven had never imbibed syntheholic champagne before, no one knew her Borg implants couldn't process it. The Doctor had to adapt some of her nanoprobes to absorb the excess in her bloodstream. Perhaps that should have been a warning to us about Tomin. His body also cannot process synthehol. Since he wasn't supposed to be drinking anything stronger than water, no one had thought to test his tolerance for it prior to the party.
As Seven was walking out of the Mess Hall, extremely upset by what she saw as the Doctor's betrayal, since she assumed he was providing her with "social skills training" as the means for winning a bet, Ambassador Tomin grabbed her by the arm and began to slobber all over her. He wanted to take her back to his quarters to indulge in "human mating rituals." Seven threatened to rip his arm off if he didn't let her go. Tomin didn't take it well. Before I could reach him to detach his hand from Seven's arm before she did it for him, Tomin began to yell loudly that he was the guest of honor, as if this gave him license to do anything he wished. Tomin tried to reach for another drink, but instead, crashed into a heap onto the floor. The "no diplomatic incident" proviso of the wager had also been a failure.
I helped get Tomin to Sickbay and stayed there while the Doctor and Tom worked on him. Seven agreed to modify nanoprobes to treat him for intoxication. The Doctor was quite apologetic, but Seven refused to pay attention to him as she worked. It's possible she was unable to hear the EMH over Tomin's cries of, "Seven of Mine! Assimilate me! Please!"
Seven did speak briefly with the Doctor before she left Sickbay, after she delivered the modified nanoprobes for Tomin. She didn't look happy. The Doctor looked upset, too. I remained at Tomin's side until he fell into a deep sleep - probably more of a stupor - at which point Mr. Ayala relieved me.
I hope the abbot, unlike Ensign Bronowski, has a sense of humor. If all of the facts are relayed to him, I fear we will need to procure the minerals B'Elanna says we need from some other place. We need them. We're always looking for materials to build shuttles. We lose so many!
=/\=
Stardate 52557
I'm relieved to report that despite the "bumps in the road" with Tomin, the trade agreement was signed today.
Tomin was still very much under the weather when I accompanied him to the transporter room. Dad was following close behind us, wringing his hands and muttering about being abandoned with the Kadi after the way Tomin's visit had spiraled out of control.
When the Abbot arrived with the captain and Father, he was in a very mellow mood. He asked Tomin whether he had indulged in any "distractions . . . or any of their more colorful traditions" during his visit to Voyager. "Of course not," Tomin lied.
Dad chimed in, "We followed the itinerary that you approved to the last detail." I tried to prevent myself from rolling my eyes, but I must have moved them a little. Father was standing next to Captain Janeway, staring at me in a fairly good imitation of Captain Janeway's fearsome glare. He may not have needed to touch me to read me telepathically.
The abbot saved us. With an indulgent smile, he exclaimed, "What a shame! It isn't a violation to explore new experiences . . as long as you don't make a habit of it."
Dad and I exchanged very knowing glances as Tomin stumbled onto the transporter, while the abbot followed the captain to the conference room. The abbot has a better sense of humor, as well as an understanding of life in general, I suspect, than anticipated.
More, I hear, than Ensign Bronowski.
=/\=
