Excuse Me, This is Garbage (Finished)

[Mari Anziel]

Great, it was time to attempt to scarf down another meal. The motions of it all were so pointless. Why bother eating food when your mechanical system can produce everything it needs to sustain itself literaly while you nap? Because some routines you just never ceased. Even for SSgt Azniel, the idea of devouring food surfaced whenever it was that time, even when she wasn't hungry.

Unfortunately, the palette on her tongue had not been replaced or else she might actually enjoy this trivial action. Instead she had full function of the taste range. Or rather she would if the food served had a range. It was either bland and chewy, or slimey, and tasted oddly of hydraulic fluid. Lucky for her, the cybernetics that consisted of her stomach and intestinal track could process, convert, and make use of hydraulic fluid. Not to say that they actually served the stuff, but boy could your mind say other wise.

I think we need to put the chef into the brig. Might do him some good to get the hell away from that kitchen for a little bit she suggested before pushing the tray of muck away from herself.

Something told her this was part of the plan. Either feed them garbage they'll learn to hate, or starve them to death. This was another rare occurance where she was thankful everything from the neck down was robotic. At least starvation wouldn't be a problem for her. The crew could always just eat each other if they really wanted some fresh meat. A chuckled escaped her mouth as she pictured the crew running around as rabid cannibals. It was a pleasing thought for anyone who was a cyborg.

[Veria Holt]

No such hilarious thoughts were in Veria's mind as she clopped her way into the cafeteria. A few people glanced up as she passed - the sound of her heels was quite distinctive. It struck her that their looks weren't exactly as respectful as she might hope. Was the Captain's badge pinned to her jacket? She looked down. It was. How, then, could it be that they were not paying her due notice? A tiny wrinkle appeared between her brows, but soon passed as her attention was drawn to the servery. The rather unappetizing aroma of today's lunch reached her delicate nostrils, which then scrunched in distaste.

She pretended to ponder her selection for a few moments more, before leaning in to whisper to the hairnetted life form with the spoon. "I'll have a roast beef sandwich on white, non-toasted," she ordered. "Actually, add a green salad, dressing on the side." The server frowned, or at least Veria thought it was a frown. It was always hard to read alien expressions. But nonetheless he... she... it left its post and went to have a word with the kitchen staff. Veria knew they had stuff back there that they didn't tell anyone about. Her personal stock had been brought aboard under her supervision. The kitchen staff probably ate most of it themselves, come to think of it. But it was a small price to pay to be free from the goop they called a meal here.

It took a while to fulfill her request, but she eventually got her food and turned to sit. An appendage grabbed the shoulder of her uniform. Unimpressed, she turned back to see what the worker wanted. "You don't seriously plan to sit down with that in here, do you?" it wanted to know. "Of course I plan on it," was her swift reply. "If they're jealous, they can take it up with my superiors... oh wait!" She laughed, oblivious, and made her way to one of the seats. It was crowded in the cafeteria, but she managed to find a nearly empty table. She didn't recognize many faces, but she knew this one: Staff Sergeant Mari Anziel. Veria smiled in a friendly manner and made a slight greeting before finally beginning to eat.

[Mari Anziel]

Slamming was the only ideal verb that could constitute a way to properly eat what was on the Staff Sergreant's plate. Sort of the way you slam down hard liquor. It would taste foul but lord would it do what it was supposed to. Unless of course what it was supposed to do was something you were trying to avoid, then it was probably best to avoid action all together. Words jumbled about the air, screeched to a halt somewhere within the woman's ear, then awaited for the brain to respond.

Before doing so Mari took a second to eyeball whoever was speaking to her. Not out of respect, she was just curious what it was it sounded like the Captain was sitting next to her. Eyes soon trailed south, catching the attire, then most importantly, the sandwhich. What in the hell was this woman thinking? Did she not understand the sorts of things happened to other people on board over something seeminly as miniscule as food? Of course she didn't, and that's how it needed to stay for now.

Ya know, Cap'n, if you weren't the stuck up wrench everyone says you are and leading us all into oblivion at the whims of that brain of yours, you wouldn't mind if we all helped ourselves to that private stash of yours, would you? My stomach, as horrid as a word as that is to describe what's really in there could kill a man over some of that pie you had in there she hinted before swirling a finger in the air in direct notion to the sandwhich.

Daring thoughts within her brain were taunting every inch of her, human and cyborg alike, to plunge one of those metallic fingers into the sandwhich. Sort of like a "My Germs!" sort of deal. Except with Mari you really were better off just letting her eat it. There was no telling what sort of loops your stomach could do should it get trace amounts of the metals she was made up of in it. That or the off chance she should just happen to have some hydraulic fluids on her finger tips. Those things never did well in a human intestinal track.

She had seen it once. Poor fellow vomitted for days on end, even after the fluid had all fled his body. It seemed his stomach was hell bent on a complete purge, including his own bodily fluids. He didnt die, but he sure learned just how non sexual it is to suck on a cyborgs finger. Guess wierding things could happen when people get drunk. Sadly enough, the sight of him puking his brains out (almost literally) was more than enough to satisfy her for the night.

It was bliss the things she could do to others just by using what she had been turned into. And here the Organization thought it would be better for "everyone". Suppose they left the world minus Mari and themselves out of the equation. Now Captain Holt was steering towards the danger edge. Quick thinking would be needed in order to garuntee some form of refund from this death trap ride.

[Veria Holt]

Veria, not expecting a response, had already taken a sizable bite of the sandwich when the guard's words assaulted her. She stopped chewing for a second, caught with her mouth full, but it appeared she was safe from speaking for the moment. She quickly resumed mastication and swallowed painfully. Her face was rather shocked, as much from the way the words were spoken as from the words themselves. People thought she was stuck up? 'Everyone' thought so?? Leading everyone into oblivion? And, perhaps worst of all, she was expected to share her private stash of food?! The thought Maybe that server was right threatened to enter her mind, but the massive ego wouldn't allow it to proceed further than the edge of her subconscious.

"Well," she began once she was able to speak, "If I let just anyone share, it all be gone in a week!" Even she saw the error of this statement in present company, especially with that nasty metal finger swirling ever closer, and amended it immediately. "But... I'm sure I could make an exception," she laughed nervously. After a moment's hesitation, she pushed the salad and its little bowl of dressing toward Anziel. "What do you like? I have real fruit, real meat... chocolate..." She was speaking quietly, hoping not to involve anyone else in this deal. I'll be eating in my quarters from now on, she said to herself, as though it were her own original idea.

"Wouldn't it be better for both of us if nobody else knew?" she said slowly. "The more people sharing, the quicker it's gone. And when we stop for supplies, they'll only give us the standard fare." Veria here made a face at the tray of unidentified grease and slop. "No refills on this stuff." She was hoping this woman, or what remained of her, wasn't the unselfish type. By looking at her face and history, she was pretty sure she wouldn't find a speck of altruism.

[Mari Anziel]

Listen to the barter at hand brought a false smile the cyborg's lips. Apparently the Captain had not caught on. Excellent. It made the raid on her food supply far more worth the labors involved in the endevour. Now she was getting offered access back into the preverbial cookie jar. Damn did she like cookies.

As words kept trying to become quieter and quieter out of Viera's mouth, the main focus was on the salad nudged her direction. Clearly from looks alone Mari was no rabbit, and was not one to partake in the habits of herbivores. Maybe some added to a dish for flavor or spice sure, but by itself? Please. There are rules even someone who is only 14% human desires to follow. Rule #173: Eat meat.

Look, I appreciate this offer she started in respects to the salad before the bowl was pushed back. But I have two main food groups. Meat, and dessert. Anything else is just a tease to my tongue. So what do you say we skip the appetizers and go straight to what I care about? I won't tell the crew about your stash, and I get my fill of protien and sugar, ya? she offered.

Not like it was entirely up for debate to begin with. Mari had access to the stash equal to if not better than the Captain herself. One of the perks of being someone the kitchen staff dreaded crossing. Sure Viera was a pain in the ass, but Mari was considered psychotic when it came to eating good food. It was more than enough to allow her to "inventory" what all was available for consumption. Unlike the good Captain here, she just knew better to eat it when others weren't around.

Black mail however never hurt anyone, at least not until it turned into actual threats and violence, then it generally hurt someone. Looking Viera over confirmed it would be the squishier of the two women hurting should the need arise. Unfortunately Mari did not know a single thing about piloting this vessel. Chances were neither did the other woman, but best not to let all of the surprises out of the box all in the same day. For now she would take the minor victory over the food and save further ridicule for later.

Despite however much she might have liked to argue the fact, there was one thing she was right about. Too many people knowing about, or rather having access to the stash would cause it to diminish faster.

[Veria Holt]

Veria's expression looked brighter as the salad was returned. She hoped the sandwich wasn't to be requested instead - surely not, it already had a bite out of it. Just to be sure, she took another. Her face fell once more then when she heard the demands on her precious meat and dessert. They happened to be her favorites as well. But sacrifices must be made to keep others from the discovery, so she nodded.

At this point, she began to wonder if anyone else was watching. But luckily (or unluckily) the other passengers on the ship were not sparing her a thought, it seemed. Even so, she did hunch forward slightly to provide a little cover for her nonstandard lunch. Contrasting with her usual perfect posture, she could feel a twinge in her back already. Perhaps for the first time, she got the sense that this 'Second Chance' program may not have been such a good idea. She was suddenly aware of the fact that more than half of the sentients surrounding her were possibly violent criminals. Who's to say they wouldn't become violent over hidden stores of food? The hair on the back of her neck stood up a little, and she shifted in her seat.

"I think I'm going to get out of here, and finish my lunch in my quarters..." She stood up, wrapping what was left of her lunch in napkins. She paused, wondering if Anziel was really the best person to cultivate a friendship with. "Perhaps... you'd like to join me?" she suggested hesitantly. She cleared her throat, taking on a more authoritative tone. "That is, if you're free, we can pick up something for you in the kitchen. My rooms are private and have a sitting area. Of course, if you'd rather finish up what you have, feel free to stay." Her intentions were good, but her pride and oblivious manner made it difficult to get along with her. Veria pushed in her chair with a foot, her hands full of the bundle of napkins.

[Mari Anziel]

Watching the composure change within the Captain provoked a light chuckle out of Mari. It was always entertaining when someone like her tried to "blend in". Typically because it never worked. Not like it would really matter here on this ship anyways. No one truly cared. They were out on a mission where the term higher up pointed to a woman who got handed her career, and a self enveloped cyborg hell bent on having fun every second of the ride. Being a convict almost seemed like a vacation considering what might occur in whatever length of time they were gone. Mari was willing to bet it would be a long one.

I don't know, I've seen your quarters. They aren't exactly the greatest a Captain has ever been given. Then again... she started to tease before looking about the mess hall. Staying here could incite further entertainment, but it also would in fact mean food for the others. That was not something she was willing to settle for. It's either your room or the Armory. Either way access is gonna be extremely limited, which should make for an excellent feast she offered with something that could be considered a smile.

The problem with that smile was that it was in no way one that could bring forth any comfort for any who caught sight of it. Not that it really mattered. Mari was openly self centered. Taking the guess work out of the matter just meant one less thing to try and explain. She would look out for her squad yes, but she wasn't going to go out of her way to make life easier for others. From her point of view, things were jacked up for a reason, fix it or shut the hell up. For god's sake she is in charge of people, not here to listen to people's drama.

Mulling the idea over, how in the hell had she even made it to where she was? By Organization standards, she should have been shot in the back of the head years ago. At least they would do her the favor of making sure the shot would kill her and not just scar her for life. Nope, a giant chunk of metal took care of that. Smug bastard didn't expect her to get a new body out of it.

And there she went off again, trying to outwit an inanimate object from a past experience. The worst part was she always made a point of winning. Perhaps if her brain had been mechanical as well this could be overcome. But instead the mush completed the loop, singled a victory, and provoked a miniature cheer within her brain. Oh happy day. Defeat of an imaginary foe. It was those small victories that counted. Briefly she sat blankly as the music played, then reality snapped back into play.

Food. That had been the topic of discussion. I'm sorry, I totally just didn't bother to hear a word you said she explained with a smile before standing up. I'll meet you there after I grab what I want out of your stash ok! she added before heading back towards the staff entrance for the kitchen. It didn't take long for her to load up the foods she wanted. For now it would stay small and simple. Jerky and candy. What a better lunch could she ask for? Well there was always that roast stuffed down near the back...

[Veria Holt]

Veria was slightly frightened by the smile, but at least the words were those agreeing to come with her. Though she happened to know her quarters on the ship were particularly nice - after all, the ship had been commissioned by her father - and was rather offended. Trying not to show this, and choosing to focus more on the 'excellent feast' part of the speech, she smiled in return.

She was on her way out, expecting to be followed, when Mari spoke from behind her to let her know of her intention. Veria paused. This had not been part of the plan. She had expected to walk with the SSgt. to the servery and order something on her behalf. This new direction gave the cyborg a lot more control over the situation than Veria had intended to bestow. But what could she do? If she refused access now, that would only be more trouble for her in the future. Instead she only forced another smile and said, "Yes, I'll see you soon. Just knock on my door when you're ready and I'll let you in." As if I'd tell her the access code now. Probably have her throwing parties in there. "You should ask the kitchen staff for a bag," she advised sagely, as though Mari may not have thought of the idea of concealing her off-limits food.

The woman left, and Veria went out the way she had come in. She couldn't help wondering what she'd gotten into just now, but she was soon distracted by the thought of how her ass may or may not look in this skirt as she walked along.