Root of All Troubles
Posted on Thu Mar 18th, 2021 @ 12:28pm by Cornelius Warner MS & Captain Luka Mahone
2,917 words; about a 15 minute read
Mission:
Frizzle
Location: Silver Tongue
Timeline: MD - 1 : 2104 Hrs
It was an odd suggestion, as well as verification from the science labs, that had Luka arriving on the scene of the Silver Tongue with a small case in his hands. It was a case he wanted to hand deliver to Cornelius, as he knew the brewmaster would have an interest in another potential ingredient.
Granted, this ingredient came with the condition that if anyone who consumed this fell ill or was temporally displaced, it was a 'risk that could be taken for the sake of the culinary science.' But, after a half hour long lecture on Luka's part and a reassurance that the worst that could possibly happen was a little stomach bubbling and not being thrown into the seventeenth century by no fewer than three separate scientists, the Captain shot off a message to Cornelius and set on his way.
He may or may not have utilized the words 'top secret,' and 'confidential' in his memo a cartoonish number of times.
Despite the potential for stomach illness, Luka could not help but feel giddy at the prospect of this scientific endeavor, so much so that when he arrived on the scene, he nearly walked himself behind the counter before he realized what he was doing.
"Ha ha..." he chuckled half-heartedly, choosing to 'smoothly' sit in the stool nearest the bar's open pathway. The current bartender stared at him with an odd look, tilting her head to one side. "... You wouldn't happen to know where ah..."
"I'll go get him for you," responded the woman, who disappeared into the back.
It was a few minutes later when Cornelius showed up wearing his apron and a wild smile on his face. He had read through the document forwarded and had already started to think of what could be done with the idea of a local root, but there was more he needed to know first. Placing his hands firmly on his hips the man nodded to the Captain. "Can't do much from the bar Mister Mahone," he said with an increasing grin. "Come on back, let me take a look at what you have," he said and disappeared back.
Technically most of the brewery was visible from the front of the brewpub place, but the real secret was the spiral staircase that wound into the basement. Most of the stuff down here was dedicated to utilities and storage, a small lift in the opposite corner designed to move things to the top. Large fridge unit for fresh produce and meat, carbonation units for the keg system, everything you expected to find. But that wasn't the real surprise, no that was left to the lab kept at the back of the corridors. Well, he called it the lab, seeing as it was where he experimented. Several small batch fermenters bubbled away and groaned as their various stages of brew worked away. The one closest to the door was a day away from kegging to see trial on people - A raspberry radler to bring in the summer.
He cleared some space on the large workbench, and began to gather supplies from around the room. "Place it there," he said as he shuffled through the gear gathered.
Luka made no secret of his giddiness as he gave the whole area a good survey. While he was careful not to touch anything on fear that his whole existence would ruin a batch of something Cornelius had been working on, the itch to at least get closer and examine the fermenters to sneak a peek at any little thing he could was higher than he would have admitted.
Luka looked up from staring at one of the various containers, blinking. "Oh yes." It was not long before he had his case on the bench, popping it open to display the large chunk of muted green root that had been authorized for such a use. "... The scientists said this was harmless for consumption, which leads me to believe they actually consumed it. But now they're wanting to see if there are other uses for it. I thought, if there was any way to get out any potential - hm - negative effects would just be to ferment it to death."
Holding one of the roots in his hand, Cornelius gave it a skeptical look. "Safe for consumption and safe are two different things Captain," he said, eyeing it a little more closely, before pulling a knife from a magnet block and slicing into it, giving it a sniff. Musty, for sure, but there was an underlying sweetness to it. It wouldn't make a good beer, no but that didn't rule out it's usefulness as a drink. Finely dicing some more of the root to bits, he dropped a few pieces in a collection of small dishes before he turned his back to look at another bench with a few chemistry tools going, and the sound of a agitator stirring something. "Tell me about the negative effects," he said absentmindedly as he leaned over to look at the stirring substance, yeast just in case.
"Well, from what I've understood..." Luka's eyes wandered to the ceiling as he thought on the matter. He had not seen any of the scientists with any negative effects, but that did not rule anything out. "No one has exactly turned green, and, in all fairness, I needed reassurance that doing this wasn't going to kill anyone at any stage. And then I needed another four scientists and a civilian holistic professional to insist that it most definitely was not going to be poisonous..." He snorted. "Someone ended up licking a sample in front of me, but the worst that happened there was overdramatics. A couple of the more adventurous scientists have stated a case of nausea, but mildly so. I'm not sure if anyone's done more than ingest a miniscule sample... and I don't even want to know who started the trend..."
Nodding along with the man's word's, Cornelius scooped up one of the containers, filling it partially with water - just enough to have the bits of root begin to float. Lighting a burner, he set the beaker down over the flame and let it begin to warm. It would boil soon enough. One one of the other beakers he dropped a few drops of an unlabeled and brilliant green substance, watching as the root began to sizzle inside it, dissolving into itself. "Starchy," he noted. "A vodka perhaps?" Shaking his head, he leaned over to sniff the now boiling mess. "Very sweet," he said under his breath, and scooped the root up, dumping it unceremoniously into a large food processor and hit blend. In his head he counted, not seconds, but thoughts, and then stopped the blend and dumped it into a large pot. Flipping the pot filler near by, he watched as the water began to rise as he turned to a pantry at the end. Returning with a large mortar and pestle, he placed them in front of the Captain and dumped a cup of large rock crystals, and a collection of other large, hard looking materials into it. "Grind those as fine as you can please, mix them together," he instructed as he carried on back to the pantry.
This was something the Captain could do, but not as the Captain. While it was unintended, putting himself in someone else's domain allowed for the potential to escape from all those captainly duties he took so seriously.
After a firm examination of the ingredients in the mortar bowl, Luka set to work, eyes upon Cornelius as he wandered about. "But it's viable for something you think?"
"Everything is viable as a drink, but as to whether it will taste good is a whole other issue," the barman said as he returned with a collection of spices, dumping the collection into the pot and killing the flow of water. Lifting it with an easy that looked out of place for his more slender build he transferred it to a stove. "Did you know Romulans drink a type of wine that has a microdose of many types of common poisons in it? Not all of course, but a few. It means that, for the most part, the amount of poison needed to actually kill a Romulan is high enough that hiding the flavour would be hard." A rookie mistake made by many a would-be assassin. "I keep a bottle, just in case. Tastes absolutely dreadful," he added.
As the water began to bubble, he looked over at the work the man had been doing. "That should be perfect," he said, scooping the mixture. He dumped it in, anise, sugar, sassafras bark, and sarsaparilla. As the substance boiled up to a roaring boil he killed the heat and let it begin to sit. Dumping in the yeast, he turned back to grab a lid and closed it off, using a set of clamps to seal. "We'll let that cool for a bit," he said with a smile. Turning back to the Captain he crossed his arms.
"Root beer," he finally said, nodding to the pot. "It'll toss it into a fermenter for a week, and then pump it into a keg and carbonate, letting it sit for another week. If I had to guess I'd say it's going to sit somewhere around four percent when all is said and done? Maybe three and a half? I could probably boil it over into a syrup when it is done, see how that works."
"Root beer," Luka echoed, peering over at the pot. While he had little hand in the beginnings of this concoction, Luka felt a small swell of pride. But that would soon wash away, replaced with mild concern that what they had done might have created a tasty concoction which may have had some side effect. One that he had of course thought about over and over, but now that the root beer was a week away from being accessible for tasting...
"You'll... you'll give me a heads up before anyone tastes this, right?" he asked cautiously. "... I... want to be here. Just in case." And maybe, some more reckless part of him wanted to give it a shot. With an appropriate first aid kit about, just in case.
"Probably not," the other replied, as he looked at cooling brew, before turning to face Captain. His face contorted as he stared at the man for a few minutes, his eyes tracing the officer for any signs of a hidden agenda. He'd gotten good at it, especially with humans. There was a missing piece to this puzzle the Captain wasn't telling him, this much was obvious. So, with little regard, he dipped his finger into the mixture, extracted it, and gave it a slow lick. It was then Cornelius' turn to have a bit of a moment where be scrunched his nose - root beer in this stage tasted like little more than root water and sugar. Opening a fridge, he pulled a brown unlabelled glass bottle from it, and with a twist of his hand pulled the cap off.
A quick swig and a puckered face, he grimaced. Root water and beer were not a good mixture, and this particular beer hadn't turned out all that good to begin with. "In case you are wondering Raktajino dunkels are terrible."
Luka held out a hand to try to stop the act from occurring, but of course was a little too late and watched Cornelius in absolute horror. "I..." His hands fell, and his brow furrowed. "Why did you do that?"
"Well, I'm not one for half truths, unless of course I am telling them," the spy replied, with a smile. "I can tell from your face that whatever it is has you concerned, and a little more than worried about my health - I'm flattered by the way. I can also that it isn't pleasant from what you've seen so far." He looked back at the brew. "But, also, the root hasn't had time to saturate, the boiling is just to activate the starches and get it going, it's going to be another two or three hours before the saturation of the substance to enough where whatever it is can actually begin to effect me. Plus I took a massive dosage of anti-toxins before you came, old trick from the Romulans."
"I-..." Luka's face went through a series of emotions, about as certain of itself as Luka himself was of how to react. "I thought I told you everything." His brow furrowed as he looked for a reaction from Cornelius. No, his mustache didn't fall off (though it would teach the agent if it did... harmlessly). No skin lesions or eyes popping out or, well, a sudden need to explain why Cornelius Warner was not going to be reporting back to the Admiral due to lack of having said agent on this plane of existence. "Wasn't it all in the memo? We received the root from the mines and - you don't feel weird do you? Anti-toxins are all well and good, but we have a cuddly creature that could eat through the hull of a starship. I'm not hiding anything. Intentionally. I don't feel like I am. Maybe except a concern to keep you alive and well and here."
Luka frowned. "Why are all you Intelligence types so maddening?"
"We're taught to be challenging, keeps people guessing. Also keeps us from getting bored," he concluded before pulling up a chair and sitting. "Odd feeling after consuming bits of the root, and then mild hallucinations. Chances are from basic analysis there is some element in it that is causing the flashbacks. Sugar and hot water cause a breakdown on the starch base of the root will mean that at this point we are talking one of the lowest concentrations. Of course, there is a chance i have messed this up, and the carbonation will be the point where it's safe. Guessing from the report I got a minute or two until I know." The man went to stand up with his usual flair and grace, but as soon as his feet hit the deck his body went rigid, instead landing face first on the ground.
"Neat," he said genuine interest colouring his tone as his body relaxed. "Captain, I may have gambled wrong here. I am experiencing none of the other side effect but this is the most interesting body feeling I have ever experienced." He paused, eyes squinting. "I haven't cleaned under these work benches well enough there is a fair amount of dust."
The moment Cornelius fell to the ground was the moment Luka's stomach churned. Then his expression fell to an oddly familiar annoyance as he crouched down to grab the man's wrist. "You're utterly impossible is what you are." The Captain's whole pleasant and polite demeanor fell as he checked the man's heart rate, as if he had to dig others out of similar situations. "You aren't dying either. Not yet, anyways. Let me know if you start feeling any sort of... I don't know... something that doesn't feel like you're on a bad drug trip."
Standing upright, Luka squinted about for a faucet and a glass. "I assume that if this water is pure enough to brew beer with it's pure enough to drink?"
"Hasn't killed me yet," replied the man on the floor with a joke. While the whole situation was inconvenient it wasn't yet so bad that he couldn't find the humour in it. "Worst drug trip I ever had was when I ate Romulan grain raw," he added, blowing away a dust bunny. "There is a reason Romulan ale is so potent, because technically the unprocessed version of the grain itself is poisonous. Not deadly to humans, but induces similar effects to psychoactive drugs found on earth. I licked an ambassador's face. Grains don't taste so bad, Romulans on the other hand," he paused in an effort to shrug and only managed a twitch.
By this point, Luka had procured a glass of water. If this were any other point, he would have given the man the water to drink and decided it was time for that trip to the Hospital. As the rambling continued, Luka could feel his exhaustion growing. After a small assessment of what he decided was Cornelius's dramatic twitch, the Captain rose the glass and dumped it all over the bartender. It was fine, he had medical training. This was how this worked. "You're absolutely impossible," he repeated grumpily.
For all the awkwardness of the situation, Cornelius couldn't help but laugh. "I deserved that. Now, good Doctor-turned-Captain, I am rather serious when I say I can't quite feel my legs. Would you be so kind as to call for help to get me to one of the colony's esteemed doctors?" He looked up at the other man with as much of a pouting face as he could muster with his cheek firmly planted against the ground.
A small, audible sigh escaped Luka's lips, tapping his commbadge. "I need one medical transport for potential poisoned patient at The Silver Tongue please." As he brushed a hand through his hair, he cast a tired look down toward Cornelius. "I hope your mustache falls off for all this."
RSS FeedCredits | Privacy Policy