Disclaimer: Paramount owns everything Voyager. I'm just playing with it. I don't own anything except for a bowl of soup. Mine! You can't have it.
Perfection?
What exactly is perfection? The dictionary lists it as "The quality or state of being perfect, free from fault or defect, flawless." And that's what I thought about soup. Rather, my soup. Minestrone. And I guess it's the Captain's soup, too. Apparently, I wasn't the only one.
It happened the last time I took some shore leave. A couple of crewman and I went down to this planet somewhere, and I was in charge of packing lunch. Since I was out of rations, I raided Neelix's pantry. I found absolutely nothing edible. There were about fifty pounds of leola root, several smelly green things that I had never seen before, and a giant grasshopper leg. Seeing that, I shrieked and ran out of there like a bat out of hell. I tried raiding some other places for food. The first place I checked was a small supply closet adjacent to Cargo Bay 3. It was actually pretty promising. Two jars of pickles, some sliced chicken, a loaf of bread, mayo, cheese and two cans of something. This was all packed in a cooler, along with a keg of water, a thermos bottle of coffee, a small Bunsen burner, something I hadn't seen in years, some silverware, and a large bowl. "Paydirt!" Some idiot had left a bunch of picnic stuff here. The closet was refrigerated, and there was no name on the cooler. I grabbed it and took it back to my quarters. I ran into Lathrop on my way back.
"Hey!" he said. "Is that for tomorrow?"
"Yep. Grab Oviedo and Alex. Telsia said that she'd come too, and we'll invite the transporter officer on our way out." I looked in the cooler again. Hmm. I thought that I had better grab some more stuff, so I went to bug Tom Paris. After I asked, he gave me a jar of blackberry jelly, another loaf of bread, and a jar of some sticky strange brown stuff called peanut butter. I asked him if he and Lieutenant Torres wanted to come along, but he said that they had made other plans. His face turned red on the word plans. I guess it was pretty bad. But considering his and the lieutenant's relationship, maybe it was pretty good. I wouldn't know. No romantic crap here!
The next day, the five of us walked down to the transporter room. Along the way, we passed the captain and the first officer. I didn't know them too well, but they seemed to know each other.
"I can't believe it. I have no idea where that cooler went!"
"I know! I packed your favorite soup, and chicken!"
"Well, it's not your fault. Neelix probably destroyed it."
"But what about your coffee?"
"Hmm. Don't know where that went. Neelix probably used it somehow. I'm beginning to really regret letting that little pest aboard my ship."
"You think you're regretting it? You never eat!"
"You don't need to worry about that."
"Woman cannot survive on coffee alone."
"I know. She occasionally needs minestrone soup to go along with it."
"You're impossible."
Crap. I stole the command team's lunch. Oh, well. They'll just eat in some little café, like they always do. My group of ensigns and crewmen just moved to the side. We let them pass us, so they didn't see my cooler. I mean, their cooler. Most likely his cooler. Alex looked at me, then at the cooler. I grinned and nodded, alerting the rest of my group to the fact that I lifted the command team's lunch.
"They'll just eat in some romantic café, like they did last time." That came from Oviedo.
"Ovi, did you..." Ovi was the last person to be in charge of lunch.
"Yes, he did. In fact, we've stolen their lunch every time we have shore leave."
"We were going to tell you, but you found it too early."
"You see, Mono, when we lift their food, they go to some little dark place and life takes its course. It's a beautiful thing."
"Oh, look, we're here," I said. We invited Mulchaey, the transporter man, like we always do, but he never wants to go. Guess he's got a girlfriend or something. We beamed down to this grassy plain on the planet.
We decided to have lunch first. I opened the cans, put them in the bowl, added water, and started boiling them. I poured coffee and the soda Mulchaey gave us for everybody, then started making sandwiches. I didn't have one, though. I'm not brave enough to eat something Tom replicated, and I don't even eat replicated meat. Instead, I took a fork(I'm boycotting spoons) and started to eat the soup.
It was heaven. It was bliss. It tasted better than anything. Ever. "Does anybody want some soup?" I gave no time to answer. "Good!" And I piled in. God, no wonder the captain loves this stuff. It's great. There's no meat in it, and there's pasta, and heavenly bits and pieces of vegetables and NO LEOLA ROOT!!! "This soup is perfection!" I shouted to the heavens. Everybody else looked at me like I was perfectly sane. They all know that I, Ensign Caterina Monesmith, am totally crazy when I find something edible.
Unfortunately, that's when the Borg moved in. They just beamed as soon as I said that. Luckily, Voyager pulled us out of there. We all had our sandwiches and stuff, and I had my beloved soup. We finished them in the transporter room. I finished my bowl. It was bliss.
One Week Later
I was working Ops for Harry Kim. He had died. Again. The Doctor was fixing him up in Sick Bay. Suddenly, a Borg ship appeared on the view screen. It was the Queen. I noticed the commander grabbing the captain's hand and squeezing. "What do you want?" he said, rather protectively.
"Cut the small talk, Commander. Give me the soup."
"What soup?"
"I request the bowl of perfection soup."
"Minestrone?" said the captain.
"Is that what you call it?" said the Queen.
"Will you fire?"
"No, just give me the soup."
"All right, Chakotay, go replicate a bowl of minestrone. Beam it over."
The commander went into her ready room and pressed some buttons. A bowl appeared on the view screen in front of the Borg. I felt myself begin to salivate. Ugh. I'm addicted. The Queen smiled, then stuck her hands in the bowl. "What's she doing?" I asked. Alex was working the station by the conference room. "She's trying to assimilate the soup. Suddenly, the view screen flickered back to normal, then we saw a Borg cube retreating. Then two Borg beamed on to the ship. They said, "The Queen has ceased to function. We will assimilate you." Suddenly, Chakotay jumped up. He ran to the Ready Room and came back with a bowl of soup. He threw it over the Borg. They fizzled, sparked, then fell over. "How did you know to do that?" the captain addressed him in a different tone than I had ever heard her use before. "Well, they're metal. Metal plus circuitry plus soup equals, well, remember your replicator last night? Smoke happens, then your quarters are uninhabitable and you have to sleep someplace else." She nodded, remembering something. "Go on." "I figured that it might do something similar to the Borg." "Good job." She hugged him. "And the Borg can't adapt to soup." "Who knew?" "It's amazing. That soup is perfection." I had to but in. "Captain, I wouldn't say that..."
Perfection?
What exactly is perfection? The dictionary lists it as "The quality or state of being perfect, free from fault or defect, flawless." And that's what I thought about soup. Rather, my soup. Minestrone. And I guess it's the Captain's soup, too. Apparently, I wasn't the only one.
It happened the last time I took some shore leave. A couple of crewman and I went down to this planet somewhere, and I was in charge of packing lunch. Since I was out of rations, I raided Neelix's pantry. I found absolutely nothing edible. There were about fifty pounds of leola root, several smelly green things that I had never seen before, and a giant grasshopper leg. Seeing that, I shrieked and ran out of there like a bat out of hell. I tried raiding some other places for food. The first place I checked was a small supply closet adjacent to Cargo Bay 3. It was actually pretty promising. Two jars of pickles, some sliced chicken, a loaf of bread, mayo, cheese and two cans of something. This was all packed in a cooler, along with a keg of water, a thermos bottle of coffee, a small Bunsen burner, something I hadn't seen in years, some silverware, and a large bowl. "Paydirt!" Some idiot had left a bunch of picnic stuff here. The closet was refrigerated, and there was no name on the cooler. I grabbed it and took it back to my quarters. I ran into Lathrop on my way back.
"Hey!" he said. "Is that for tomorrow?"
"Yep. Grab Oviedo and Alex. Telsia said that she'd come too, and we'll invite the transporter officer on our way out." I looked in the cooler again. Hmm. I thought that I had better grab some more stuff, so I went to bug Tom Paris. After I asked, he gave me a jar of blackberry jelly, another loaf of bread, and a jar of some sticky strange brown stuff called peanut butter. I asked him if he and Lieutenant Torres wanted to come along, but he said that they had made other plans. His face turned red on the word plans. I guess it was pretty bad. But considering his and the lieutenant's relationship, maybe it was pretty good. I wouldn't know. No romantic crap here!
The next day, the five of us walked down to the transporter room. Along the way, we passed the captain and the first officer. I didn't know them too well, but they seemed to know each other.
"I can't believe it. I have no idea where that cooler went!"
"I know! I packed your favorite soup, and chicken!"
"Well, it's not your fault. Neelix probably destroyed it."
"But what about your coffee?"
"Hmm. Don't know where that went. Neelix probably used it somehow. I'm beginning to really regret letting that little pest aboard my ship."
"You think you're regretting it? You never eat!"
"You don't need to worry about that."
"Woman cannot survive on coffee alone."
"I know. She occasionally needs minestrone soup to go along with it."
"You're impossible."
Crap. I stole the command team's lunch. Oh, well. They'll just eat in some little café, like they always do. My group of ensigns and crewmen just moved to the side. We let them pass us, so they didn't see my cooler. I mean, their cooler. Most likely his cooler. Alex looked at me, then at the cooler. I grinned and nodded, alerting the rest of my group to the fact that I lifted the command team's lunch.
"They'll just eat in some romantic café, like they did last time." That came from Oviedo.
"Ovi, did you..." Ovi was the last person to be in charge of lunch.
"Yes, he did. In fact, we've stolen their lunch every time we have shore leave."
"We were going to tell you, but you found it too early."
"You see, Mono, when we lift their food, they go to some little dark place and life takes its course. It's a beautiful thing."
"Oh, look, we're here," I said. We invited Mulchaey, the transporter man, like we always do, but he never wants to go. Guess he's got a girlfriend or something. We beamed down to this grassy plain on the planet.
We decided to have lunch first. I opened the cans, put them in the bowl, added water, and started boiling them. I poured coffee and the soda Mulchaey gave us for everybody, then started making sandwiches. I didn't have one, though. I'm not brave enough to eat something Tom replicated, and I don't even eat replicated meat. Instead, I took a fork(I'm boycotting spoons) and started to eat the soup.
It was heaven. It was bliss. It tasted better than anything. Ever. "Does anybody want some soup?" I gave no time to answer. "Good!" And I piled in. God, no wonder the captain loves this stuff. It's great. There's no meat in it, and there's pasta, and heavenly bits and pieces of vegetables and NO LEOLA ROOT!!! "This soup is perfection!" I shouted to the heavens. Everybody else looked at me like I was perfectly sane. They all know that I, Ensign Caterina Monesmith, am totally crazy when I find something edible.
Unfortunately, that's when the Borg moved in. They just beamed as soon as I said that. Luckily, Voyager pulled us out of there. We all had our sandwiches and stuff, and I had my beloved soup. We finished them in the transporter room. I finished my bowl. It was bliss.
One Week Later
I was working Ops for Harry Kim. He had died. Again. The Doctor was fixing him up in Sick Bay. Suddenly, a Borg ship appeared on the view screen. It was the Queen. I noticed the commander grabbing the captain's hand and squeezing. "What do you want?" he said, rather protectively.
"Cut the small talk, Commander. Give me the soup."
"What soup?"
"I request the bowl of perfection soup."
"Minestrone?" said the captain.
"Is that what you call it?" said the Queen.
"Will you fire?"
"No, just give me the soup."
"All right, Chakotay, go replicate a bowl of minestrone. Beam it over."
The commander went into her ready room and pressed some buttons. A bowl appeared on the view screen in front of the Borg. I felt myself begin to salivate. Ugh. I'm addicted. The Queen smiled, then stuck her hands in the bowl. "What's she doing?" I asked. Alex was working the station by the conference room. "She's trying to assimilate the soup. Suddenly, the view screen flickered back to normal, then we saw a Borg cube retreating. Then two Borg beamed on to the ship. They said, "The Queen has ceased to function. We will assimilate you." Suddenly, Chakotay jumped up. He ran to the Ready Room and came back with a bowl of soup. He threw it over the Borg. They fizzled, sparked, then fell over. "How did you know to do that?" the captain addressed him in a different tone than I had ever heard her use before. "Well, they're metal. Metal plus circuitry plus soup equals, well, remember your replicator last night? Smoke happens, then your quarters are uninhabitable and you have to sleep someplace else." She nodded, remembering something. "Go on." "I figured that it might do something similar to the Borg." "Good job." She hugged him. "And the Borg can't adapt to soup." "Who knew?" "It's amazing. That soup is perfection." I had to but in. "Captain, I wouldn't say that..."