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Thread: The Falcon's Cage

  1. #81
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    "Probably," Shuvin agreed. "Though I'm a bit more interested in their homemade spirits. Maybe I can make the de-greaser into an actual sherry or something rather than a fruity smelling throat lozenge. Cleared out Ben's sore throat real quick, so he's not complaining, but..."

    Shuvin shrugged as she placed the spatula in the sink and scrubbed it clean, spritzing it a few times with the head of the faucet to rinse it off. She noticed that she couldn't hear the water system running after she stopped using the faucet; it meant Ben was done with his shower, and would be out to join them soon.

  2. #82
    * * *



    It hadn't taken long to make sure that everything was sorted out - in more ways than one. After a quick explanation to the Cizerack sisters that they would not, in fact, be dining on anything live, Cerie couldn't help but feel a bit of relief that their supper would be spent without the chittering and tut-tutting from any felinoid matrons.

    Shuvin was already seated, her expectations fueled by the insider's knowledge of one who was about during the 'creation'. Ben ambled in with his typical fashion. Vance hadn't showed up yet, but she was sure that it wouldn't be long. Of course, knowing that he was used to better fare than what a tramp freighter crew might be able to offer, she couldn't fault him.

    As Ben fell into his seat, the blonde sauntered over with her pot of rice.

    "Why is it that even after a shower, you still look so put-upon?"

  3. #83
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    "Oh, I don't know," Ben sighed. "Maybe it's..."

    He looked up, and saw Shuvin behind Cerie. The Togruta was shaking her head and slicing her hand across her throat. Abort course! Change vector! Evasive maneuvers, pilot!

    "...what do we have here, nuna casserole? Smells, uh, smells good! Ha, ha ha ha..."

    Shuvin nodded, her face a hologram of relief, even if Ben's voice warbled a little at the end there. Thankfully, the Imperial guy walked in just then. Ben thoroughly squashed any acknowledgement that he was grateful of that Imperial being anywhere on this ship. He took that feeling, tossed it into a mental airlock, and jettisoned it without a vac-suit, waving with a smile as it froze in the vacuum of space. Bye now, never come back, you hear?

    Shuvin smiled brightly and stood at full attention, saluting the Imperial guy as he walked to the galley table.

    "Sit first, mister Captain!" she said. She glanced over at Ben, and took note of his expression. "I mean, mister Imperial captain man."

    "At ease, Miss Undhi," that smarmy Imperial person said with a wry smile and that ridiculous Core-Worlder accent. How dare he? What, did he think he sounded suave or refined of what have you? It wasn't like Ben was self-conscious about his own voice that moment either, no way, no how! He wasn't thinking that his voice could sound kind of high pitched and nasally rather than smooth and cultured! His was an unpretentious everyman accent. "Oh, that smells absolutely delicious! Will the Madames be joining us for the meal?"

    Ben, with sheer will and determination, hid how much he disliked that accent. He'd suck it up, for Cerie. Smile Ben, smile! He could feel the muscles in his face pulling his lips. There, a proper natural smile! Cerie wouldn't have an inkling that Ben's entire being was like a magnet of the opposite polarity of the Imperial dude, pushing him to flee the galley and sulk—study the navicomputer and the coordinates.

  4. #84
    Captain Merasska's smile looked about as natural as a frown on a Nexu; almost as if he were some high-end HRD whose facial servos were malfunctioning. Distaste moved underneath the expression, met and quickly fell in love with dissatisfaction, and their joining made little disgust babies, swimming in the sea that was Ben Merasska's all too easy to read face. As Vance continued to take in the impromptu show, the man in question's left eye twitched at the same time as the corner of the right side of his mouth. Vance was impressed that he could even hold the expression like that. It was eerie.

    He glanced over to Cerie and Shuvin, who were looking at the Alderaani with unimpressed bemusement on their faces.

    "I–I don't think I've had something that smelled this good in months," Felline said, stuttering slightly as the comedy of Merasska became a little more off-putting: the Alderaani turned to look at him slowly and mechanically, his expression remaining and still twitching slightly.

  5. #85
    Shallow bowls had been set out, courtesy of Shuvin's hungry energy. For the time being Cerie chose to actively ignore the weird energy in the galley, hoping that Ben would continue on his journey of simmering down. It was a fool that would bet one way or another on that one. Ben was... Ben. He often did what Shuvin advised when it came to social stuffs, but where the Empire was involved, Cerie was a little bit doubtful of the powers her Togruta friend held.

    Disposable napkins and spoons had also been placed beside the bowls, and with rice-pot in hand, the blonde began to ladle rice into the bowls with a serving spoon. It didn't take long, since it was just the four of them. She at least managed a flash of a smile to Vance, a small bit of surprise at his praise for the smells coming from her kitchen. Well for this night it was 'her kitchen'.

    The pot was placed on a counter, and making quick work of removing the thin foil covering from the dish that held the nuna, she released the billowing steam from its confines.

    One hand covered in a hot-mitt and the other with a fresh and clean serving spoon, she approached the dining nook.

    "Well, it's just something quick," she demured, not exactly sure how to take Vance's praise.

    "Not anything fancy for sure." Two thighs were laid over the top of the rice in Ben's bowl, then another two atop Shuvin's rice. "... Just nuna thighs in some mushroom soup concentrate over rice."

    "I'm sure it's not anywhere... " two thighs were deposited over Vance's rice, "... near the sort of food you're used to."

    She smiled though, still more than a little tickled at his praise.

    With the nuna dished out, she continued on with topping everyone off with extra spoonfuls of the mushroom soup gravy.

    "... But, it'll still fill your belly," she finished with an easy smile.
    Last edited by Cerie Moreau; Feb 16th, 2024 at 03:07:59 AM.

  6. #86
    "You're absolutely right about it not being near what I usually eat," he said, taking another long sniff of the food. "Ships of the Line usually have better storage capacity, and more variety. But for smaller ships, and for those below commissioned officer status, almost all nutrition comes from 'All Purpose Nutri-Meal'."

    "That's the stuff ration bars are made of," Merasska grimaced. Felline smiled wryly.

    "A bit fancier, but not much, I'd wager. It carries all the essential vitamins, minerals, proteins, fats, and so on that a human being requires to function at a healthy level. Easy to store, easy to portion and serve, and easy to supplement for additional needs. Even as Captain, the storage needs for the fancier foods are prohibitive. It also, as has been found by resourceful crew, is a sponge for flavour, if you steam the stuff with the flavouring for about two hours. Emulsion and immersion work best, but we've found some success with marinading, though the flavouring doesn't penetrate the full strata of the meal. If we can, we supplement meals with sides and drinks, but nutritionists have warned the Fleet about over nourishing the body over extended periods and the damage that can do. The meal is designed to provide everything necessary, and portioned to a nano-gram of dietary necessity. It also means that sabotage and mishandling are a large worry of every ship and logistics officer in the Fleet. It's happened before."

    He took a mouthful of the nuna soaked rice and chewed with gusto.

    "Delicious."

  7. #87
    The look on his face was a match for the satisfied expressions he had made at the fancy restaurant on Jovan, and Cerie took heart in knowing that her food met with that same approval.

    Every word that he'd spoken previously to his first bite was pushed to the wayside. In the face of things now, it all seemed like untranslatable Huttese. Oh, she knew that he was breaking down the particulars of Imperial rations, but in the face of what she was seeing now, none of that mattered. Only one thing mattered.

    He liked her food. He enjoyed it.

    And as the blonde deposited the sauce pot onto the counter and moved to sit beside Vance, she looked at Ben with a Tooka-cat's grin and a gesture that he take up his spoon.

    "I bet you'll like it too."

  8. #88
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    Ben nodded, not arguing the point at all. In the scheme of their crew, Ben was the one who most rarely was creative when cooking. Shuvin liked spicy dishes with lots of meaty proteins, and Cerie was able to do a lot with a little, and liked to vary her creations based on her mood and inclination. Ben on the other hand, was not one who took pleasure and joy in cooking and eating. As long as it didn't taste horrible, he was satisfied. Sure, he'd enjoy a good meal with lots of flavors and noticeable love and effort put into it, but that was different. His turns cooking for Alderaan's crew and passengers were always basic. Satisfying, okay meals.

    "Shgood," Ben said around a mouthful. He said it again after swallowing. "Really good. Thanks for the food, Cerie."

    He'd listened to what's-his-name talking about nutri-meal, and even commiserated with him, having subsisted on a very similar diet when he was a Rebel and for a while afterward too. Nutri-meal was almost a monopoly in the market for transportable food-stuffs for its dietary uses and its ease of transport and storage. But Ben Merasska would be damned before he'd vocally agree with, or even show anything other than a healthy wariness of the man. Instead, he focused on his food and the meal, thankful that they'd managed to have enough to make the meal in the first place.

    Thankfully, Shuvin was there to help take the heat off him, as she loudly scraped her spoon along her bowl and hummed while she ate.

  9. #89
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    Nuna rice was so good. Like, so good.

    Shuvin wasn't shy about exhibiting her enjoyment of the meal, even as she listened to Vance and Cerie talk. Ben, however, was looking awkward and seemed to be still set on being a sour mynock. She didn't let it show, but she mentally rolled her eyes. It wasn't like he was actually being that much different from his usual self, to be fair. Usually, there'd be talk about the ship, their next job, their previous jobs, jokes at Ben's expense, and so on that would help cover it up and make the man react more. Here, there was a big old storm cloud that spoke in cultured even tones and syllables that kept Ben from being comfortable enough to lose himself in the food.

    She knew there wasn't much in the way of making her Captain comfortable enough, so she thought to steer Cerie and Ben's attention back to Vance.

    "Sabotage?" she asked. "Like, Rebels and Alliance and stuff?"

    Ben didn't answer but shook his head as he ate.

  10. #90
    "Rebels rarely if ever sabotaged Imperial food processing plants, or tried to tamper with the nutri-meal," he answered, scooping some more of the food into his mouth. He ate with at least some decorum, but this was real food, and deserved a real response. Cerie and Ben and Shuvin wouldn't appreciate fine manners and restrained sensibilities as much as his family or his officers would. "Given that Imperial nutri-meal was one of their biggest targets. All the resources saved on acquiring and processing food could be spent elsewhere, like munitions and bribery."

    He spoke matter-of-fact, with little emotion as to an insurgent group's actions against himself and his government and military. In fact, he respected the Rebel Alliance's methodology and tactics, as it spoke of pragmatism and resourcefulness. As a soldier and military man, one who had studied and learned all the nuances of space combat and warfare, he could very well respect and admire when his enemies proved to have their priorities in order. It was war, and he would not begrudge his enemy to do everything they could to win.

    "It was actually inter-branch sabotage," he said. "It's fairly common knowledge now and taught in almost every curriculum, especially because the sabotage had been discovered on Darth Vader's own ship, Executor."

  11. #91
    Darth Vader.

    Now there was a name-drop.

    Chewing a chunk of nuna with some rice, she swallowed before speaking up.

    "That was an awful big ship," she got out, remembering the words of so many spacers and their stories of that enormous Super Star Destroyer that Vader had held dominion over. At least, for a while, that was. She'd also heard about poor Captain Needa. Sucker.

    There had been so many descriptions about the way Executer took her final and terminal nose-dive into the second Death Star. The few folks who survived the Endor attack had always described the crash as something spectacular, and the people they told about it only spread the telling further. And the ones they told, told more. And those ones told more, and it just... it just became a whole thing. Cerie had always been pragmatic about all of it. The Alliance heroes had all died, and so had the Emperor and Vader. Many of the Imperial command had scrambled after Endor. Who knew what the real truth was? Not her problem.

    "Seems a shame," she continued.

    "... a ship that big."

    Another bite, and she chewed then swallowed. Honestly, it tasted just like she always remembered - wholesome, warming, and absolutely perfect.

    "Sometimes real food has no substitute."

  12. #92
    "I believe that the Command Staff aboard the super star destroyer and the destroyers do not have to suffer through the same processed meals," he said wryly. "It was a miracle that the sabotage was discovered anyway, especially in a ship that size. A Science Officer doing a standard test of the recently onboarded meal shipment found a large but not lethal amount of fural in the chemical analyzer. Following protocol, she reported to her supervisor. The supervisor, deeming the nonlethal amount to be insufficient for a reason to study the shipments, told her to end her inquiries. She did not, following the chain of command to Admiral Piett, but fortunately or unfortunately, was noticed by Lord Vader. They quite literally halted the meals for the entire ship for three days while testing every shipment and pallet of meal and foodstuff."

    He shoveled some more rice into his mouth, chewing with gusto as the nuna meat and sauce flooded his mouth with flavours. He hadn't quite finished chewing when he started speaking again.

    "A literal thousand million tonnes of meal and nutrient shipments. Three days. I believe the Science Branch on board Executor was comprised of maybe fifty to seventy individuals, with droids of various types making up the difference."

    He shook his head.

    "Using the brute force method of data collation, they found that the tampered shipments hailed from an agriworld in the Mid Rim. The name escapes me now—I'm sure my Academy Instructor would be furious with me—and under Vader's orders, the entire ship and her escorts diverted there to perform a search. The Science Officer... Malan, perhaps... was chosen to go with the landing party. She was interviewing the lead formulator for the meal processing plant, and had him confess to the crime there on the spot with some interviewing skills that I'm sure she was not aware she ever possessed. He shot her with a plasma punch, used to open sealed shipment containers. She'd nearly died, despite wearing Class 3 plastoid armour. Stormtroopers are normally issued Class 2, for reference's sake. The man who'd shot her, Aiglen, was a former Starfleet Officer, Science Corps himself. He did not take much stock in the use or importance of Stormtroopers, and thought cutting costs and poisoning Imperial soldiers befitted their role. He did not take into account that Malan had a brother in the Stormtrooper Corps, and that her search and meticulousness wasn't just a hallmark of her professional demeanour."

  13. #93
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    "Phwoar!" Shuvin gasped through a mouthful of food. "Plasma punch? Where?"

    "I don't recall. Given the dimensions of a Class 3 armour set, I'd wager her chest. She did survive by the by."

    "Lucky," the teenager sighed. "Plasma punches don't have settings. She should've been sliced in half. Maybe we should invest in some of that class 3 plastoid armor, huh Ben?"

    She nudged the Alderaani, who didn't look up from his bowl of food.

    "Sounds expensive," he grunted, spooning more food into his mouth.

    "It'd save you from a plasma punch to the chest," she argued. Ben stopped and frowned in thought for a moment.

    "Eh. Better, and cheaper, to not let a plasma punch flag me at all." He shrugged and took the ladle and served himself another helping. "Rather not have the attention an armor chest plate draws."

    "Booooring!" Shuvin sighed, going back to her own food. "You agree with me, right, Cerie?"

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