Prologue to Enterprise 3
Chapter 1 - Gluttony
Vulcan cuisine, as Human gastronomes had laughingly labelled it, was blandness personified. No amount of seasoning would have made it remotely palatable for a Human with taste buds. Vulcan cookery specialised in land based fruits, nuts, vegetables plus some sea grown alternatives - an equivalent to the vegan diet on Earth. Humans will tell you that dining at the finest restaurants, with the most talented chiefs that Earth culture had to offer, was a pleasure not to deny yourself. Indeed countless careers had been launched by those who liked to cook, those who liked to eat and those who liked to talk about what they like to cook and eat. A whole industry revolved around the consumption of protein. By contrast it was un-Vulcan to seek out such pleasures and so no similar industry had ever evolved.
The Captain's mess as it was known, perhaps a more prophetic name than had been intended, was a small cabin adjoining the ship's kitchen. It contained enough space to accommodate the Captain and approximately 5 guests but, since it was in close proximity to the kitchen, it had a linked air extraction unit fed through a series of vents & grills into the main kitchen outlet. Odours naturally needed an extra helping hand to dissipate and so the doors would be opened after dining to help speed the process along. Enterprise's designers might have included more home comforts but space was at a premium and StarFleet had employed cost accountants to ensure that value for money was built in too.
T'pol walked slowly back to her quarters from visiting Doctor Phlox. Her stomach still rebelling against the experience and threatening to take matters into it's own hands. Earlier that evening T'Pol and Commander Tucker had joined Captain Archer in his private dining room to review the improvements they had been working on. The Captain had been almost jovial as he christened the room with his first guests. Commander Tucker, having spent the morning going through T'Pol's ideas for the sensor array, was also in a good mood. His spirits were buoyed by his enjoyment of an intellectual challenge and T'Pol's ideas had opened new possibilities which excited him. These high spirits released a new source of irritation for T'Pol as the Commander demonstrated his fondness for badinage and teasing.
The conversation had started between Archer & Tucker who were firm friends. T'Pol remained a silent companion listening to their stories and jokes while the two chewed on bread-sticks, a hard pencil like alternative to the soft or crusty balls of bread which she had seen at countless diplomatic dinners. She had previously mistaken them for a table ornament or decoration as the sticks did not appear to have a natural scent. Once free however their pungent aroma was released with each breath as they were chewed with apparent relish. T'Pol wrinkled her nose. They still had yet to get to the carnivorous part of their meal.
Captain Archer tried to bring his silent number two into the conversation asking about her time on Earth and Tucker delightedly started to tease T'Pol. He made a quip about the 'great parties at the Vulcan Compound' and suggested that T'Pol was to be served the 'spare ribs' of a dead animal. Archer quickly assured T'Pol that the kitchen knew she was vegetarian and she bore this with fortitude as the two males were given large steaks compared to her small salad. As much as she had intended to keep her opinions to herself she commented on their consumption of animal flesh as a carnivore's diet. Tucker immediately rose to the bait and after listing Earth's accomplishments he told T'Pol "I wouldn't call that small potatoes".
Potatoes… it was a now familiar phrase and so T'Pol had researched the term in her Earth database. A plant of the Nightshade family, a starchy plant tuber producing potatoes on underground runners to be cooked and eaten as a vegetable. Indeed both Humans were eating potatoes with their steaks, steam rising as they cut them open and liberally applied butter. That did not fit the context. Potato, a large hole in a sock or stocking, especially one in the heel, British informal vernacular. She rephrased the sentence in her mind. 'I wouldn't call that a small hole in my sock', perhaps… Human's use of slang and sayings, distorted by time, made understanding what they meant difficult and carrying out a conversation required a dictionary.
Verb: teasing, teas-ing… to irritate or provoke with persistent petty distractions. Tucker was a master. He informed her that cannibals had existed in Earth's past and speculated whether the ship's crew might degenerate back to this barbarism due to the length of their voyage. Finally Tucker began to pester T'Pol about her age and the Captain had to reign in his number two, and his amusement, before it became too personal.
By the end of the meal T'Pol had reached her limits. Her head was spinning, she felt hot and claustrophobic in the confines of the narrow room, and the sights, smells and verbal jousting had taken their toll. She was feeling distinctly nauseous, her face now a mask of concentration. Outwardly she displayed no emotion, no line or crease on her face, however big eyes watched small particles of saliva spray into the air as a joke was appreciated by one or other of her companions. Their humour was accompanied by a loud rhythmic choking noise as air could not be inhaled into the lungs properly. It would not do to show weakness in front of the Humans however another visit to the doctor was a definite possibility.
She thought again about the definition of laughter which Savol had explained to her when she was first introduced to the elder ambassador. It had seemed a dangerous process at best. She had watched groups of Humans, drinking alcoholic beverages, become almost incapacitated by their breathlessness, crying to their companions to stop. At least the captain had approved her ideas for the sensor array however it felt a vanishingly small victory.
Captain Archer said goodnight to them both and watched the Sub-Commander stiffly walk away. He had thought that her helpfulness this morning, and attempt to interact with the crew, had deserved a bit of encouragement. It was a positive sign but tonight was a backwards step. By the end of the meal her eyes seemed to have glazed over and her boredom was clear to see. Maybe Trip had taken things too far but hell you couldn't read a Vulcan even if they opened up their book and showed you the words. They would make excellent poker players if they ever loosened up.
Chapter 2 - Protein or non-protein
T'Pol had never been overly interested in food. Perhaps it was related to the blandness of what was on offer but she treated it as a necessary task to keep the body's system working properly. Texture, colour or taste was not relevant but the correct division of protein or non-protein elements & fibre was necessary to perform at peak efficiency. Enterprise's kitchen was therefore a source of wonder. Initially she had tried to survive on the Human protein packs which were designed to be edible in a weightless environment and have a long shelf life. Since neither one of those attributes was irrelevant, and the pack was not designed for Vulcan physiology and protein needs, she finally came to the decision she should experiment with what the kitchen had to offer.
If T'Pol had a favourite food it would be Plomeek a flowering plant native to Vulcan. Recipes included a broth which reminded her of when she was a small child and a tea made from the same plant. It was a popular dietary staple and so the necessary phytosanitary certificate was issued to allow Plomeek to be grown at the Vulcan Compound courtyard gardens in Sausalito.
T'Pol hovered near the serving area watching the crew collecting their meals. Popular choices were pasta, chicken curry with rice, and what was classified as 'junk food', processed and reclaimed waste products. Humans for all their culinary diversity continued to enjoy foods which contained little in the way of nutrients. Currently in vogue were sugar based dishes. Indeed nearly all dishes contained sugar and more than enough salt than should safely be prescribed.
Ensign Mayweather had noticed her apparent confusion and came over to her from the line of waiting personnel. "Can I help you Sub-Commander?" he asked.
"Thank you ensign," T'Pol gratefully accepted his offer, "I am uncertain of the nutritional value each dish has to offer. On Vulcan our needs are defined by age, gender, weight, level of physical activity and medical history. It is important to know this information to calculate sufficient nourishment."
Mayweather smiled. "I'm afraid Sub-Commander that Humans just eat when they're hungry and choose what they fancy on any given day. It seems to work out okay. Do you want hot or cold food?"
T'Pol wondered whether she had made herself clear. Perhaps food preparation and consumption was more haphazard than she had previously expected. This would make the correct nutritional calculation impossible so she would have to estimate, not 'guess' as Human's frequently did. "Does each dish have a breakdown of elements and their calorific value?"
Mayweather shook his head causing T'Pol to squash a rising emotion from inside. "Can I suggest you go with the portion sizes that Human's have and follow your nose?"
An odd expression, 'follow your nose'. T'Pol had heard this before however in this instance the meaning could be more literal. She thanked Mayweather and joined at the back of the queue. The majority of crew knew exactly what they wanted having read the menu and made choices beforehand. T'Pol was swiftly at the top of the queue and a young red faced ensign asked for her order.
"May I have this please?" she pointed at a bowl of orange and red chillies which looked colourful and safe enough.
"How many Ma'am?"
T'Pol was non-plussed. "That portion", she pointed at the bowl again and glanced at the other food on display. Scanning for vegetables her eyes settled on the white rice beside the curry, "and I will try that also. Is it vegetarian?" she pointed.
The ensign confirmed her choices and nervously put them on her ship issue plate. Would he get into trouble embarrassing the Sub-Commander by questioning her choice or more trouble for not doing so. His face grew redder.
Lieutenant Reed appeared behind T'Pol and whistled. T'Pol turned at the noise. "Begging your pardon Sub-Commander but isn't that meal a little hot? If I had that many chilli in one sitting I would melt from the inside out. I know Vulcan is a hot planet but have you eaten something that hot before?"
The ensign was almost faint with relief as the misunderstanding was sorted out. T'Pol came away with Reed's recommendation of charred spring onions and teriyaki tofu with rice plus a side salad. They sat together and Reed enlightened her on the best way for her to make her choices. "You can download the menu and chief specials to your station and the database can provide you with nutritional data" he explained. "Find something which you enjoy and then see what other food is often eaten with it. Tofu can be quite salty and is frequently the choice of newly baptised vegetarians. It provides the closest texture to meat and has that salty taste."
T'Pol surprised a shudder at the reference to meat. Apart from that the Lieutenant was relaxing company since he did not talk that much while he ate instead preferring to continue working on his work pad. Today however he was exerting himself, not because he was sat with T'Pol, but because her scanning array changes had opened up a new level of accuracy for the weapons targeting capabilities. He tried to engage T'Pol but she was concerned at his warlike agenda.
"Does Enterprise really need increased weapon capabilities? I thought that this was a mission of peace not war." she replied.
"Of course Sub-Commander", Reed smiled faintly, "but if everyone we meet has more advanced offensive capabilities than Enterprise we might as well cease to call them a deterrent. I'm not trying to start a war out here but I would be a poor Armoury Officer if I didn't do everything in my power to protect this ship. Top of my list is the fact that Enterprise left space dock before all the planned weaponry had been installed and tested. Your scanner changes might make the difference of my targeting an opposing ships weaponry or their warp-core."
"Indeed". T'Pol considered his point carefully. He was correct and she decided to help Reed further with his calculations.
Chapter 3 - Eyebrows & wobbles
While the general impression that people hold of Vulcans is one of emotionless automatons the reverse is actually true. Vulcan's were once very much like Humans are now, which might explain why they felt a duty to help and guide Humans as they reached for the stars. Vulcan's were a wild, savage, and violent race fighting amongst themselves and their neighbours in a never-ending spiral of conquest. One of their nearest neighbours, such as Andoria, have long memories of Vulcan conquest and to this day are unwilling to accept their transformation from warrior to pacifist. Andoria indeed believes this to be a deception which will one day be uncovered. Countless wars have been fought between the two races and today they live in an uneasy truce where spies continue the battle while government denies their existence.
Surak was the first to challenge the Vulcan's violent tribalism. His philosophy was a communal commitment to reason and logic. It had been transformative to Vulcan society embraced into their religion. T'Plana-Hath, Vulcan High Priestess, had said that "Logic is the cement of our civilisation, with which we ascend from chaos, using reason as our guide". Vulcan philosophy asks the individual to analyse all situations and choose the most logical path. A cornerstone of this development was rationalism with emotional mastery. Emotion, once the architect of all Vulcan aggression, was reduced to an unwanted reminder of their past, to be dealt with internally so that only one's outward display was one of tranquility and peace.
Reality for most Vulcans was that although they tried to measure up to the ideal they frequently fell short fighting internally against the outward emotional display. Vulcan's for instance had a very dry sense of humour. This humour was not to be demonstrated to others however, it would be a visible display of one's internal emotions, which society refused to acknowledge existed in any respectable Vulcan.
The most obvious outward display you might expect from any Vulcan would be a raised eyebrow. This had a multitude of reasons however it was a reminder of the body's emotional response which the majority of Vulcans had not been able to successfully eradicate. Vulcan's had their extremist religions and it was said that the faces of the most deeply pious members looked to have been carved in stone. It did not help that the Vulcan eyebrow was slanted above each eye drawing attention to the errant feature. Some Vulcans shaved off the offending hairs to disguise their emotional weakness.
T'Pol was a serial eyebrow raiser. Her emotions were always in movement and it took weekly, sometimes daily, meditation to minimise their impact on her face and voice. She had a strong sense of humour and delighted in her interactions with Humans in particular when their heads wobbled. It was simply the funniest thing she had ever come across. One moment they were talking to her seriously but when she replied their heads started to wobble. It sometimes took all of her control to maintain the display of emotional control that would be expected of a Vulcan child.
When T'Pol first encountered this Human behaviour she had been intrigued by the complexity of expressions, facial adjustment and sometimes hand gestures which were part of Human communication. Different cultures on Earth had different head wobbles, some moving back & forwards to show agreement or side to side to show disagreement. Others had the opposite wobble. It was just too funny for words and source of immense amusement. How could you treat someone seriously when they stood before you wobbling their head, eyes bouncing around in their sockets. If only Humans knew what they looked like.
