Food Trek

activate the deep friers and tune them to warp speed 7

You call up the galley and make sure that they've tuned the deep fryers for warp speed cooking. You don't want the oil going out of synch with the rest of the ship mid-warp! It could spill on the floor and make a mess. Or burn someone. That's a no-no. Fortunately, your First Sous-chef, Commander Blrblgrlr, has made these arrangements. Good entity, them, a Jelloid from Jell-0. Very methodical. Probably due for a promotion of their own, one of these days. You need to teach them to be a little more daring, but all-in-all a very dependable sort.

Check on the torpedoes.

yeah make sure those torpedos are warm and snug and still live

A sensible decision! You decide to head down to the torpedo bay...

Bring a clock. Stab it, slowly and maliciously. Torture time in the most efficient way possible. Let its gasping breaths feed your treachery.

...But first you decide to do this, for some reason. You grab your bedside table clock as you leave. Taking your standard issue plasma paring knife (a must have for the Chef-Captain on the go), you slowly cut gouges in the treacherous time-piece, leaving plastic shavings and bits of wiring littering the floor behind you.

You enter the space-elevator and descend, all the while gouging and stabbing your defenseless digital-display victim. The ensign who was already on the elevator is trying very, very hard to be invisible. And pretty effectively, too, given her people's natural camouflage abilities.

You arrive at the weapons bay, and step out, leaving behind the cowering ensign.

The three people on duty in the weapons bay are surprised to see you, and are even more surpised to see you still absent-mindedly chopping at the now-ruined remnants of what was once a very nice alarm clock. You explain that you're just here to check on the torpedoes after the computer's little... hiccup.

They nod and you give the torpedoes a quick scan, along with a visual examination. Everything seems to be in order! That's good. Though fairly stable, you wouldn't want all these Scoville torpedoes just rolling around loose! These warheads, while not the most powerful models in the fleet, are still a little hotter than you'd like to handle.

Do you have any crew who are from Munchius or have experience serving food there? You don't want to nearly commit your own embarrassing faux-pas, after all.

Bidding the weapons technicians goodbye, you return to the space-elevator. By now, there's little left of the clock but some broken plastic and bits of electronic scrap, which you stuff in your pockets for later disposal.

"Computer," you begin, waiting for the narrator to quit talking so that you may continue, "Are there any Munchian crewmen on board?"

"One Muchian crew member on board. Ensign Stargleam. Currently assigned to the botanical labs."

You command the elevator to head for the botanical labs.

"You're welcome," sneers the computer.

Ah, the botanical labs, where the ship's fresh veggies are grown, and where cutting edge experiments in growing the perfect garnish take place. It's always humid in here, and strong earthy smells hang in the air. Reminds you of home, doesn't it?

With the help of the head botanist, you find Ensign Stargleam tending to some plants. You get his attention.

"AH! Uh, hi Captain," he says, peering around nervously. "If uh... if this is about the stuff in my quarters, that's medicinal!"

You tell him to relax. You also remind him that even non-medicinal 'stuff' isn't actually illegal under Dominion law, provided he's sober on duty.

"Oh... yeah!" His long ears perk up a bit, and his fur un-ruffles slightly. "I may have been watching too many old holovids... heh... things can kinda run together. Uh... so what can I do for you, Captain?"

You explain that you need to ask him if his species has any particular dietary requirements, preferences, or allergies you should be aware of.

"Whoa, Captain, are you gonna make me dinner or something? That's like, super nice of you!"

You may have to phrase things a little more clearly. Munchians are a pretty literal-minded bunch. Not dumb by any means, they just tend to think in straight lines.

You explain the situation a little more clearly.

"Ooooh! I get it! Okay, so, like, us Munchians don't really go in for big portions or real fancy stuff. We like to have a lot of little things to pick and choose from. We're grazers! The only thing you have to watch out for is we really don't handle sugar or caffeine very well. We're waaaay sensitive to that stuff, and a hyper Munchian is not a Munchian you want to be around. A little sugar's okay, but go easy on the desert, yeah?"

He's not just whistling Dixie, either! When Munchius Gamma was first discovered, the traditional Dominion welcoming gift baskets were distributed all over the world, containing an assortment of candies and other goodies.
The war was brief, but incredibly brutal. It lasted less than a standard week, but several large cities and their outlying areas were devastated in the fighting. It took years to rebuild, and the Munchians have been a bit leery of outsiders' food ever since (which is part of the reason you're on this mission). Munchians don't deal well with sugar, indeed!

Your communicator signals you. You answer it.

"Greetings Captain," comes the precise, mellow voice of Commander Blrblgrlr, "I've just received word from the bridge that another ship seems to be following us. Your presence is requested on the bridge."

You thank the Ensign for his time, and proceed to the bridge.

--

Lieutenant Vgarr is waiting for you. He seems distressed, although it's hard to tell as he's always scowling to one extent or the other.

You follow him to the sensor station, where he looms over the ensign on duty there. You join him in looming (though admittedly, Vgarr is much loomier than you are, even with your horn to give you an edge in that department).

"There," Vgarr says, tapping the display. "We detected this ship following us several minutes ago. It does not match any known profiles."

You take a closer look at the display, antennae twitching in concentration. The strange ship is matching your course exactly, and is moving just slightly faster. And it's big, too, whatever it is. It's obviously on an intercept course, but for what purpose?

"What is your command, Captain?" Vgarr asks.