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Until Next Time, Cap'n Homie

Posted on Aug 27, 2020 @ 4:31pm by Iphigenia Bonviva
Edited on on Aug 27, 2020 @ 4:32pm

Mission: Dog Days Of Summer

“Until Next Time Cap’n Homie”

(continued from “THE BOY, II / BLOOD SIMMERING")


“Never say goodbye because goodbye means going away and going away means forgetting.”

– J.M. Barrie


Scene: Captain’s Ready Room
Stardate: [2.20]0827.0840

One did not enter a Captain’s Ready Room unless invited; especially the Ready Room of Captain Michael Turlough Kane. There was protocol that one had to adhere to; there was precision, attention to detail, and historical precedence that had to be considered when entering a Commanding Officer’s Ready Room.

So when the buzzer rang, Kane gave a passing glance at the time and seeing it was lunchtime both anticipated the afternoon meal and secretly, quietly, said goodbye (temporarily) to his beloved order. He had an important meeting shortly that required his attention, hence lunch today was being brought to him. As Captain, he could do that. Although to be fair, lunchtime cart service was something that was offered by The Vulgar Tribble but as much as one enjoyed the food it was the atmosphere he suspected that most of the officers went down to the mess for.

He just went only for the food; of course.

“Enter,” he called out, as he braced for the impact of chaos and disorder.

The doors swished open; the first of his senses that was assaulted was...his hearing?


Musical accompaniment:


Looking up as the pianos, oboes, saxophones, and clarinets were piping into his Ready Room, he narrowed his eyes when he realized that his lunch was not as he expected. Normally the chef of The Vulgar Tribble wore various shirts that espoused sayings that pressed the limit of the Federation’s freedom of expression, if not good taste. The chef’s hair was often dyed in a variety of rainbow colors and was styled in a way that was juvenile (or so he was informed, not that Michael Turlough Kane was a connoisseur of hairstyles, juvenile or otherwise). And her was symptomatic with those with her last name, her mouth was often open and she was pontificating quickly and freely spouting her opinion to any and all.

He put up with this all for his beloved bacon sandwiches and tea.

So it could be forgiven if he was momentarily surprised when a formal silver serving cart was pushed in, with what one could imagine was lunch in the center of the tray when he saw the sterling silver tray with the domed silver cover. Indeed as the chef steered the silver and mirrored cart over she carried over the domed cover tray to his desk, setting it down in the center. Without a word she turned back around, and without a word she went back to the tray and picked up the other item on there that had been obscured by the large domed tray. In addition on the tray was a formal tea service and from the aromas that was in the air, he could already tell that it was the brew he’d been drinking for years.

After tea service had been set on his desk, the Chef removed the domed lid and Kane found a formal place setting. Fine, formal china in the middle (with the Federation symbols around the edge no less), forks on the left, knives on the right; linen napkins on the far left. Dessert cutlery above the plate; water glass to the upper right. Before he could say anything, tea was poured and placed to his lower right.

Captain Kane opened up his mouth and realized that the Chef was standing a full chef jacket, black pants, and a full toque. Her hair, back to its natural blonde, was neatly braided and away from her cerulean face.

Most unusual.

“Captain Michael Turlough Kane,” Iphie said as she fished out a PADD from her pocket. Passing it over she said, “Here is my resignation.”

Furrowing his brow, the CO of the PHOENIX took the PADD, noting it was for one Chef Iphigenia Bonviva and for the culinary Bynare assistants known colloquially as “Calvin” and “Hobbes”. It took him a second to realize it was the first time in 4 years that Iphie Bonviva did *not* call him “Cap’n Homie”. He wasn’t even sure she had it in her to use a formal term of address until this very moment. He was torn on asking her why she hadn’t done so until now and facing the matter head on. “Why are you leaving?” he finally asked. “And what about The Vulgar Tribble?”

“I need to escort my niece to my sister,” Iphie said. “But I’m only meant to be a temporary guardian. It’s really best for everyone if Dahlia goes back to Xana.” Considering the second question Iphie said, “I know I closed down The Vulgar Tribble the other day when I had to get Dahlia. I considered keeping it closed. But it seems despite people’s protestations of how much they love their replicators, they do like having a place to go to. So I reopened it. That’s fine, but for now that place can’t be with me. You can get a replacement server; I’m sure you can get someone easily enough like you did last time.”

Kane wouldn’t argue that the young teenager needed some stability in her life, and he was not going to get in the way of family matters. Especially those with the last name “Bonviva”. And much as he was loath to admit it, Iphie was right. She wasn’t the first proprietor of the Ten Forward here and she didn’t have to be the last. There was an almost charming frankness about how she approached this situation. There was no dramatics (except for the pianos and oboes in the background); she laid it all out for him so it would be an easy transition.

Kane glanced at his lunch. He really wanted the sandwich as much as he wanted anything during non-combat. However, even during peacetime duties came first. Looking up he asked, “What about Billy?”.

Iphie raised her eyebrows at that before considering things. “Ben’s mirror?” Frowning she asked, “He needs a home, no doubt.” Thinking about things she said, “Look I know my sister loves raising half the universe, but maybe for Billy’s sanity he shouldn’t be raised in the same household as his mirror. I think it would be confusing for him. And for Ben.” Shrugging she said, “But there’s a reason why I’m the backup guardian and not a real guardian.”

The Captain thought about that. It wasn’t a terrible opinion, but Iphie wasn’t the deciding factor here.

As he looked at the crisp bacon sandwich with its juicy tomato and creamy herbed spread all on toasted sourdough bread. The side crisps and salad were his usual lunch and the Commanding Officer was looking forward to digging in as soon as the Chef left.

So it surprised him when Iphie turned to the cart, picked up something, and turned back to his desk and placed a small dessert plate to the upper left of his lunch plate. Looking at it he saw a tower of four homemade chocolate chip cookies. Lifting up his head the unspoken question was there; he never ordered dessert with lunch.

“You told me once that you keep yourself separate from the crew out of necessity,” Iphie said softly. Pausing she said, “I know you *think* it’s a necessity but perhaps it's a necessity but perhaps there’s a necessity in reaching out.”

Kane scowled. “I did not ask for lunchtime philosophies and cheap solipsisms,” he pointed out.

Iphie smiled then. “Oh but you did. You did when you asked me to serve you lunch here. Otherwise you would have made use of the replicator. So now you’ll scowl at the cookies during lunch, and afterwards. But I’m going to guess you won’t toss them because you have just enough old-school practicality to see that as wasteful. Either eat them or give them away. Blame it on me. But reach out, just for a moment.” Winking at him she said, “Do it for me. Last thing you will ever do for me.”

Kane stared down the cookies. He stared at those cookies for longer than necessary. “Request denied,” he finally said.

Iphie turned from where she was at the door; her cart entirely packed up. She very nearly exhaled at that but didn’t. She couldn’t make Kane reach out but she had tried. “About the cookies?” she asked as she tried in vain to keep the disappointment out of her voice. Shrugging she said, “Well then do you want me to take the cookies--”

“Request denied,” Kane decided, “because it won’t be the last thing I ever do for you.” As he took the napkin and snapped it open he said, “The PHOENIX is open for your return when you’re ready.”

Iphie Bonviva realized it was very generous to be invited back. She also knew that Kane would rather admit defeat than admit that. Rolling her eyes she went with instead. “It’s four cookies. It won’t kill you to have a conversation with someone.”

“I don’t have to justify myself to you, Chef Bonviva,” the Captain pointed out. “Until next time.”

“Until next time Cap’n Homie,” Iphie smiled.


NRPG: Iphie has left the ship with Dahlia! But Cap’n Homie has graciously left the door open for your foodtime philosopher and chef to return someday :)


Sarah Albertini-Bond
writing for
Chef Iphie Bonviva
Former Proprietor of The Vulgar Tribble


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