A funny thing happened with this story. It was originally part of another (as yet unfinished) story. I had this lovely Hopi-Tewa-Pueblo creation myth which no matter how I pushed or pulled, squeeze or stretched I just couldn't fit smoothly into the story I was writing. So did what any self-respecting writer would do--I cut it. But I just couldn't make myself throw it away. And this sentimental little Christmas tale (all right, Prixin--same thing) is the result.
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Disclaimer: Voyager and her crew belong to Paramount. All hail the might Paramount. The creation tale is one version of the Pueblo story of the Emergence. The rest of the story belongs to me.
It was the fourth night of Prixin, the Night of Gifts, and Kathryn Janeway felt a small flutter of anxiety ripple in her stomach. This particular night of Prixin always sent a shiver of unease through her. It wasn't Neelix's fermented fruit compote--which if the truth be told was quite good, nor the genial and informal gathering of the ship's complement for a party. She enjoyed both of those. It was the gift giving. It was not that she had any particular objection to gift giving. She loved giving gifts, and adored receiving them. It was just that there was always this small nagging fear that people would feel obligated to give her something simply because she was "The Boss". So she had spent the last two years gently dissuading everyone from giving gifts to the Captain. Her efforts seemed to be working pretty well. Last Prixin she had received only a few gifts and only from those who she worked mostly closely with.
Kathryn went her to her closet and carefully selected an outfit to wear to the party. It had to be something that was neither too formal nor too casual. Something that was not too severe and authoritarian nor too revealing or sexy. Something that maintained her decorum as Captain without obliterating her femininity. And as always her choice was a compromise. She chose her make up with equal care: her lipstick might have been a shade or two darker than what she wore on duty but otherwise no one would probably notice a difference.
She checked the time. She didn't want to be too earlier or too late. She and Chakotay had reworked the shift schedules so that everyone would have a chance to attend this night's festivities. And she needed to be present during the overlap between beta and gamma shifts so that she would have a chance to wish each member of crew a Happy Prixin. 1900. Perfect. Time for her to go. At 1900, additional replicator credits has been deposited into the account of every person aboard the ship. Her gift to her crew. She had worked out an energy-saving strategy with B'Elanna that didn't compromise the ships readiness nor stint any of the crewmembers's own accounts. Now there were extra replicator rations for everyone. And, Janeway thought, with a small smile, if the flurry of recent replicator activity and month-long orgy of trading and bartering that had gone on crew decks was any indication, the replicator credits would be gratefully welcomed.
Gathering up her own gifts, Kathryn left for the mess hall. Her timing had been perfect. The party was in full swing and her entrance was unobtrusive. She stashed her packages behind Neelix's counter and made a circuit of the room, greeting each crewman by name and extending her wishes for a merry celebration. Finally, having completed her obligatory salutations, she stepped over to the buffet table and allowed Neelix to hand her a cup of punch. She drank it gratefully as the meeting and greeting had left her with a parched mouth. As she held out her cup to the Talaxian for a refill, she said , " Wonderful party, Neelix. Even better than last year."
The small Talaxian beamed with pleasure then shrugged modestly. "Thank you, Captain. Prixin has always been my favorite holiday and your generosity both with replicator rations and releasing extra personnel to me to help with the preparations made it all so easy."
"Regardless. " Janeway answered, "You've done a wonderful job. Thank you."
Neelix returned the filled cup to Janeway's hand and leaned forward conspiratorially. "Before you leave, Captain, stop by the kitchen for a minute. I baked that mocha cheesecake you like. I 'm keeping it in the cooler so the ravening hordes don't devour it." The little man winked. "My gift to you. Happy Prixin, Captain."
Janeway smiled and reached across the table to draw the Talaxian's upturn palm into her own. She placed a small black and gold pin, an Ensign's pip, in his hand.
A look of complete wonderment suffused the Talaxian's face. "But this...but this.... I can't accept this, " Neelix sputtered.
Janeway smile reassuringly. "You'll have to earn the right to wear it, Neelix, and I warn you that Commander Tuvok can be demanding taskmaster, but I'm sure that you'll be able to master any bar set before you. You begin security training on Tuesday. Commander Chakotay has arranged for extra help in the kitchen while your training keeps you busy. Congratulations, Neelix and good luck!"
The Talaxian squared his shoulders and snapped Janeway a crisp military salute, the likes of which StarFleet hadn't required in over 200 years. Janeway smiled and nodded an acknowledgment, then turned to survey the room.
Lt. Paris had just stepped away from Lt. Torres and B'Elanna was temporarily alone. Janeway moved smoothly over to join the Chief Engineer.
"Nice party, "Janeway commented.
"Yeah. Prixin's not at all like Klingon holidays, " returned B'Elanna, leaving Janeway to wonder if the half-Klingon engineer meant the remark as a kind of compliment or not.
"B'Elanna, " began Janeway, "I wanted to thank you for helping me juggle the replicator accounts. I know you received extra credits like everyone else, but it wasn't a surprise for you. So I'd liked to give a little something else--with my thanks." She handed the dark-haired engineer a PADD, not unlike the dozens that circulated across each of their desks every day, but this PADD had been uploaded with five of the trashiest romance novels that Janeway had been able to find in Voyager's database. Janeway had been more than a little surprised to learn that her Chief of Engineering's preferred reading material ran to bodice rippers, but to each her own. She had done her best to find novels that were well-written as well as unabashedly romantic. She hoped that she had hit the mark and that the younger woman would find the works entertaining. "Happy Prixin, B'Elanna." And Janeway walked away before the B'Elanna Torres had the time to realize that she had no gift to give in return to the Captain.
On her way back toward the buffet table, Janeway was accosted by Lt. Tom Paris.
"Captain," he greeted her heartily, "I've been looking for you. I have a present for you." Janeway grinned. Her two years' worth of effort had never dissuaded the rakish pilot from giving her Prixin gifts. And his gifts like his flying always pushed the envelop. Last year he had given her a replicator pattern for a tailored satin robe. Not the robe itself, mind you, which would have been totally unacceptable, just the pattern, which was just barely met her criteria for appropriateness. Still she had to admit she looked forward to seeing just *what* Tom would try this year.
It turned out to be......slippers. Kathryn had burst out laughing when she opened the wrappings. Slippers!! Once again completely unexpected and not wholly appropriate, but once again something she couldn't justify refusing.
She lifted them up for closer inspection. "To go with the robe?" she asked with an arched eyebrow. The tall, blond pilot gave his trademark scapegrace grin and shrugged. " I suppose they would, but I was thinking more along the line of how much B'Elanna is always complaining that the uniform boots make her feet ache. I thought you might like something more comfortable to wear at the end of the day."
"Thank you, Tom," Janeway answered still grinning and shaking her head at his audacity. "And I have something for you." Janeway handed him a computer optical rod which he looked at quizzically. "It's a holodeck program," Janeway explained. "When I was on XXXX and had the opportunity to fly in Maestro DaVinci's flying machine, it occurred to me that that was one experience you might enjoy. Hang gliding. Can't get much closer to pure flying than that. Enjoy, Tom! Just make sure you leave the holodeck safeties on." She clapped her pilot on the back and started across the room, her slippers tucked securely under arm.
Harry Kim was earnestly explaining the Talaxian holiday traditions to the imposing Borg woman when Janeway touched him on the shoulder. He spun around quickly, a bit startled because he hadn't heard anyone approaching. Of course, Janeway decided he wouldn't have heard an entire platoon of StarFleet Marines approaching. He was that engrossed by his conversation--or at least by his conversational partner.
"Happy Prixin," Janeway greeted him and pressed a small bronze flute-like object into the young officer's hand. "It's a luburris," she explained, "from Delta Cantator 4. I heard a itinerant street musician playing one while I was walking through the city's plaza and when I stopped to ask him about the instrument, he gave it to me. Now I'm giving it to you, Harry."
The ops officer's radiant smile gradually faded as an embarrassed flush crept across his cheeks. "But I don't have a gift for you, Captain......"
Janeway smiled reassurance and patted the young man on the arm, "Just learn to play it, Harry. Play me song one day. That's all the gift I could ever want."
Janeway shifted the slippers under her arm and crossed the room to where the cool blue of her Tactical Officer's brocade robes signaled his presence. "Tuvok," she greeted him warmly, coming to stand close to her Vulcan friend. "I'm glad you came."
The Vulcan lifted a single wry eyebrow. "I do not believe that Mr. Neelix would have allowed me to *forget* this occasion, Captain. He was most persistent in issuing his reminders of the celebration. In all, he sent me no less than 14 messages about it in the last 3 days"
The corners of Janeway's mouth lifted in appreciation of her old friend's dry humor. "Yes, Neelix can be quite persuasive," she agreed.
Tuvok inclined his head slightly toward the slippers Janeway carried. "I see that Mr. Paris has already bestowed his Prixin gift upon you."
"You *knew* about this?" Janeway's voice lifted with incredulity.
Tuvok nodded gravely. "Of course," he answered steadily as he drew himself up minutely, straightening his already perfect posture, imperceptibly bristling at the suggestion that some shipboard activity had escaped his attention. "Mr. Paris attempted to illegally access your locked personal replicator file and in doing so set off a security alarm. Initially he was unwilling to divulge a reason for his actions; however, in the end he chose explanation over disciplinary action. I regret that I was unable to reveal this breach of your privacy to you sooner, Captain. Mr. Paris made me promise to remain silent so as to 'not let the cat out of the bag.' I assure you that I personally oversaw his intrusion into your files and that nothing beyond the necessary requisite information was accessed."
Janeway was smothering, rather unsuccessfully, a grin at her Tactical Officer's factual recitation of the circumstances surround her slippers. And people said Vulcans lack a sense of humor she thought. Still chuckling slightly at Tuvok's story, Janeway lifted a carefully wrapped box and placed it gently in the dark Vulcan's hands. "Happy Prixin, my old friend," she wished.
The Vulcan inclined his head slightly. "Thank you, Captain, " he intoned with his usual reserved dignity. " I am honored by your gift."
He made no move to open the present Janeway had given him, but she had expected that. He had never opened any of his gifts at past Prixin celebrations either. She knew he would open it later in private so that he had a chance to reflect upon the gift and the giver. So for now she would have to imagine his esthetic appreciation of the raku fired porcelain bowl she had bartered from Lt. Thayer. The first time she had seen the wide shallow bowl glazed in mottled iridescent slate blue she knew that it would make a perfect container for one of Tuvok's prized hybrid orchids.
In turn, Janeway graciously accepted from Tuvok a hand-calligraphied scroll with several relevant sayings culled from the wisdom of Surak. It was a thoughtful and elegant gift-- so reflective of the giver.
With her scroll in her hand and her slippers under her elbow, Janeway circulated, chatting with a number of her officers and crew at the party. She eventually abandoned her presents in a small pile behind Neelix's counter where they wouldn't be underfoot. She reclaimed them--and her cheesecake-- two hours later as she prepared to leave the party for the quiet and solitude of her own quarters. She had been blessed with a wonderful and resilient crew and occasions such as this reminded her quite painfully of that. They also reminded her that Voyager was still far, far from home.
As Janeway walked toward her quarters, she heard footsteps behind her. She looked over her shoulder and saw her First Officer hurrying to catch up with her. Deliberately, she slowed and allowed him to fall into step beside her.
"Leaving so soon?" he asked.
"You know how it is," she shot back at him genially, "no one leaves until the Captain does. I don't want to be responsible for all those late-to-duty reports in the morning." Then her mien turned serious. " Besides, I've already received the best gift any Captain could ask for--a wonderful crew." Her voice grew husky with emotion.
Her melancholy hovered just beneath the surface tonight and the sentimental holiday had exacerbated it. She had managed well enough at the party, careful not to dampen anyone's festive spirits, but now she just wished her First Officer would bid her goodnight so she could escape to secure if lonely confines of her cabin where she could indulge her feelings. They stood for a moment awkwardly before her door. She kept waiting for him to say he had to go, but he didn't. Instead he nodded at the slippers, "Paris?"
"Yes"
Chakotay shook his head in disbelief at the younger man's boldness, then finally came to the point. "Kathryn, I have a Prixin gift I want to give you."
Janeway's heart sank. He was the one she had tried hardest to discourage from giving her gifts. She had hoped that since they spoke several times at the party and he had made no overtures there that he had understood her message. That gifts tread on dangerous territory. She was afraid that he would give her something that she could not deliberately misinterpret, something that openly proclaimed his affections for her--and that she would have to refuse it.
Well, it wouldn't do to have a scene in the hallway she decided so Janeway keyed open the door to her quarters.
"Help yourself to something from the replicator," she offered. "I'll be right back." She gestured with her burdened hand by way of explanation.
When she returned to her sitting room she was dismayed to see that Chakotay had planted himself squarely in the center of her couch. She considered for a moment taking the chair opposite him, but she decided that if tonight he was going to blunder across her unspoken boundaries that she wanted to meet his transgression face on and with honesty. She sat beside him.
"Chakotay," she began. But whatever she was about to say was stopped by his gesture.
He had conjured a small midnight blue velvet bag and pressed gently into her palm.
Whatever small hope that Kathryn had held that this moment might pass without confronting and defining their relationship died as her fingers discerned the weight and shape of the object in the bag. She held it in her palm for a long moment, reluctant to open the drawstring, knowing that once her eyes registered what her fingers had already told her that she would have to refuse his gift.
She drew open the cord and slid the bracelet into her hand. It was a wide cuff of silver with a large carbonchon of the bluest New Mexican turquoise in the center. Arranged around the stone were non-symmetric but pleasing patterns of stamped Zuni style motifs.
She knew without doubt but with great regret that she had to refuse this gift. It was too personal, too intimate. It spoke too plainly.
"Chakotay...." She groped for the right words to make him understand, to soften her rejection.
Before she could find them, he lifted bracelet from her unresisting fingers. He held it in his left hand, his thumb stroking the stone, caressing the small irregularities of the matrix. "Do you know what this is?" he asked her, not raising his eyes from the bracelet. Without waiting for her response, he answered, "It's a story."
"This stone is the color of the home world's sky. A reminder. And each of these...." His index finger traced the shape of each design around the stone as he spoke. "Each of these represents a world and how the People passed through each to come into the real world. This is the first world, " His finger touched a pattern, "a world of darkness where the People were alone and frightened. The Corn Mother came to them and touched each of them and took them by the hand and led them to a ladder. The People climbed the ladder through the ceiling of the sky into the second world. This world was cold and the People huddled together in hunger and discomfort. The Corn Mother came again and touched each one and led them to a ladder. The People climbed the ladder and entered into a third world. This world was wet and muddy yet, unsuitable for planting crops and so the Corn Mother touch each one and again lead the People up the ladder through the sky into the fourth world, the real world and our home." He grasped her left hand and he slid the cuff around her wrist, using his fingers to crimp it slightly so it would stay. "Wear this and be reminded, Kathryn, that you will lead us home."
Kathryn's throat was clogged with tears, stilling her voice and making it hard to swallow. She looked at Chakotay, her eyes shining with the renewal and hope he had given her. At that moment, he could have asked anything of her. And she could not have refused him.
Instead he stood and released her hand. "Happy Prixin, Kathryn," he wished her gently. And left.