NEW VOY: Something Really Big (1/1) G [P, K, N, C]
Title: Something Really Big
Author: Dave Rogers
Email Address: daverogers@geocities.com
Series: VOY
Rating: G
Codes: P, K, N, C
Part: 1/1
Date Posted: 2nd May 2000
Summary: Why do they queue for Neelix's stew? Paris and Kim explain
it to him.
Disclaimer: Paramount run the kitchen, I'm just tasting the leola
root stew.
Acknowledgement: Thanks to Jenn for beta reading.
Something Really Big
"Busy day today, Mr. Kim," observed Neelix as he continued to ladle
out the best cuisine the Delta Quadrant had to offer.
"Yeah, it always is when replicator rations get cut," replied Harry,
glancing round the mess hall at fifty-three fellow sufferers. The stew
seemed particularly virulent today.
"And always for the same reason," added Tom Paris from over his left
shoulder. The rush was dying down now, and Tom and Harry were the last
remains of the reluctant queue.
"Yeah, another C-special," said Kim, grinning at Neelix. "You must be
used to them by now."
"Yes, of course... except," Neelix floundered, "Now you mention it, it
never really occurred to me to ask..."
"Why you get these sudden surges in demand for leola root stew?"
finished Tom for him.
"Yes, I mean, not that there's anything *wrong* with leola root stew,
some people are a little conservative in their tastes, maybe, but..."
"Look, you know how the replicators work, right?" asked Tom, hastily
diverting the conversation away from anything that might remind him of
what he was about to receive.
"Right, like you're the expert," teased Kim. "Look, Neelix, the
replicators work off the energy surplus from the Bussard collectors,
okay?"
"Bussard... of course, now let me think..."
Tom came to Neelix's rescue. "Interstellar hydrogen collectors."
"Ah, yes, of course, those clever little contraptions that pick up
fuel as we go."
"Right," continued Kim. "Now, they only work when we're travelling at
impulse speeds..."
"Because there's no hydrogen in subspace," put in Tom, only to receive
a withering look from Harry.
"Because the Bussard field and the warp field interfere destructively,
so if we turned the Bussards on we'd drop out of warp," corrected
Harry firmly. "A bit at a time, though, so we'd end up spread over about
a hundred light years. Don't try it."
"I won't." Neelix looked nervously round the galley to make sure there
wasn't a Bussard collector on-switch hidden away somewhere. Reassured,
he looked back to the two young officers. "So because we've got so far
to go, we spend most of our time at warp speed, and there's not much
spare energy, so..."
"So we have to ration replicator use. Right," said Harry with the
indulgent look of the pleased father of a gifted three-year-old. He
fought off the impulse to pat Neelix on the head.
Neelix looked happy enough for a moment, but then his look of
confusion returned. "But what's a C-special?"
"Ah, now there's the interesting bit." Tom took up the narrative now.
"Normally we have enough replicator rations that people only have to
eat in here two or three times a week," he continued, ignoring Neelix's
offended snort, "unless they blow them on something else."
"Like Hawaiian shirts or laminated pool cues," explained Harry.
"Or obscure antique musical instruments, if you don't have a life,"
countered Tom. "But we use the replicators for everything, from food
to clothes to hyperspanners to new hull plates. So we need to suspend
replicator rations from time to time, because now and then we need to
replicate something really big."
"I see." Neelix puffed out his cheeks and exhaled noisily with the
effort of assimilating so much knowledge in one chunk. "Something...
really big?"
"Yeah," Tom repeated. "Something really big like..."
As he spoke, the doors opened behind him, and Chakotay entered the
mess hall. His uniform was freshly replicated, and his hair appeared
to be slightly singed. As he stepped in, fifty-three pairs of eyes
looked up from fifty-three plates of leola root stew, and fifty-three
voices fell silent. And through the sudden silence floated Tom's
oblivious voice, continuing on mental autopilot.
"Like a new shuttlecraft."
Noticing the silence a few seconds too late, he looked round in time
to see Chakotay's face darken, and a moment later the First Officer
had spun round and stormed back out. As a murmur of uncomplimentary
remarks started to grow back to the normal level of conversation, Tom
looked back sheepishly at Harry and Neelix.
"Uh-oh. Bad timing. Excuse me, gentlemen," Tom said with mock
formality, "but I have to go after him."
"Tom, don't bother." Harry grabbed his arm. "Apologising won't help."
"Apologising? Who said anything about apologising?" Tom put on his most
innocent smile and picked up a spare tray. "I'm just going to make sure
he gets some lunch."
THE END
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