NEW VOY: Wayfarers' Eve (1/1) PG [J, Tu, P, T, K]
Title: Wayfarers' Eve
Author: Dave Rogers
Email Address: daverogers@geocities.com
Series: VOY
Rating: PG
Codes: J, Tu, P, T, K
Part: 1/1
Date Posted: 2nd December 1999
Summary: On a peaceful planet, Kathryn Janeway falls foul of a local
custom.
Disclaimer: Paramount own the Delta Quadrant, but the occasional
peaceful corner of it belongs to me.
Acknowledgements: Thanks to Jenn for beta reading, and to Steven
McKinnon's "Roll Call" website for background information.
Wayfarers' Eve
There was a taste of ice in the wind that whipped across the park, but
the sun was warm and the cold, clean air breathtaking. Kathryn Janeway
climbed the short slope up from the riverside path and stood quietly,
looking over the broad expanse of heathland as it gently darkened in
the winter dusk. She shook her head to clear out the cobwebs, took a
deep breath of the invigorating, chilled air, and tried not to notice
Tuvok looking for natural cover from behind her.
"Beautiful, isn't it, Tuvok?" said Janeway, letting her eyelids droop.
Meritia certainly seemed a wonderful find, a haven of peace and rest
after a week of battling through hostile space. The Seronin Autarchy,
a hostile, paranoid and secretive society, had made no attempt to ask
Voyager to avoid their space, preferring repeated, stealthy and highly
destructive attacks on Voyager the moment they had crossed the border.
Meritia, though, a warp-capable civilisation with powerful planetary
defences, seemed an unusually relaxed and stable civilisation for one
so close to a dangerous adversary. So unusually so, in fact, that
Tuvok still seemed unable to lay his gravest suspicions to rest.
"The temperature is sufficiently low to cause hypothermia within
seventeen minutes without the protection of standard Starfleet
protective clothing," replied her security officer. "I suggest you put
on a jacket, as I suggested earlier."
Janeway laughed. "You remind me of my mother, Tuvok. Did you bring a
scarf and gloves too?"
"I did not consider those necessary," said Tuvok, frowning slightly.
"However, Mr. Paris asked me to provide suitable headgear." He held
out a pom-pom hat, knitted from black wool and featuring red and gold
teddy bears round the rim.
A speechless Janeway was trying to frame a suitable reply when a
movement in the corner of her eye caught her attention. It looked like
a meteorite, and for a moment she was a little girl in an Indiana
cornfield. The words of the old rhyme came back to her - "Star light,
star bright, first star I see tonight, I wish I may, I wish I
might..."
There was no time for wishing. A sudden concussion split the air
around them, dusk turned to day with the flash of an explosion, and
she was on her face in a shallow depression in the hillside, Tuvok's
weight pressing her down and crushing the breath from her lungs. He
must have reacted the moment he saw the bright light falling towards
them, and bought them a few more seconds of life.
"What the hell was that?" hissed Janeway, as more flashes lit up the
sky above them. In the distance she could hear the crackle of chemical
energy weapons - gunfire, a calm part of her reflected, was what Tom
Paris would have called it - and then another powerful explosion.
"I am unsure, Captain," replied Tuvok quietly, lifting his weight off
her and looking up from their shallow sanctuary. "It appears to be
explosives; however, the technology level on this planet is more
consistent with energy weapons. It may be -" His words were briefly
interrupted by a succession of explosions, and a falling scream
appeared to herald the passing overhead of some form of missile. "It
may be that some faction on the planet is attempting some crude type
of insurrection. I recommend we remain under cover." He paused again
as another loud bang was accompanied by an eerie green light. "We do
not appear to be a target, and Voyager will be passing within beamout
range within twenty-three minutes."
"Agreed. Any idea what the... Tuvok, can you hear that?"
Tuvok raised an eyebrow. "Indeed. It appears to be laughter."
"Oh, no. I have a bad feeling about this."
Janeway looked up from the fold in the ground to see the tall, rather
angular but undoubtedly humanoid forms of four Meritians, one of them
the City President to whom she'd been officially introduced only hours
ago, sauntering towards her with broad grins on their faces. Her misery
was completed as she raised her head a little further and saw Tom Paris
and B'Elanna Torres a couple of paces behind them, both very clearly
trying not to laugh. This was bad. Very bad.
"My apologies, Captain," said the City President, failing to keep a
straight face. "We neglected to mention the annual celebrations this
evening. You appear to have been startled by our firework display."
His hair was turning a deep shade of red as he spoke, a sign of great
amusement according to the information Voyager had received on
Meritian culture and biochemistry.
Janeway struggled to her feet, trying to retain at least a little
dignity. Unfortunately, she quickly realised that this must be the
rainy season on this part of Meritia Prime, although since Tuvok had
had clean hands when he pushed her down into the dip, that failed to
explain one or two of the stains on her uniform jacket. She gave Tuvok
a sharp look, but couldn't discern any reaction.
"That's quite all right, Mr. President," she said, hoping her face
didn't suggest the opposite too strongly. "These little
misunderstandings happen all the time." Maybe not the right words
there; she realised that the Meritians now had the vision of a mud-
stained Captain on every world in the Delta Quadrant. Still, it
couldn't be helped. It was hardly their fault, after all.
"If you'd like to see the display to its best advantage, Captain," the
city president added, "there's a viewing gallery just beyond the rise
over there." He indicated a direction away from the river. "There are
places reserved for you in the VIP enclosure. I have some business to
attend to, but I'd be happy to join you in a few minutes."
As they walked towards the gallery, Tom Paris came over to Janeway's
side, and said, "Our hosts weren't entirely honest with you, Captain.
They had a good reason not to tell you about the firework display."
B'Elanna chimed in from her other side. "The firework display is to
celebrate some big battle about seven hundred years ago. Nobody can
agree who fought it or who won it, but they insist on having the
celebrations anyway." She tutted under her breath. "Reminds me of my
mother."
"But there's an older festival that they have at the same time,"
continued Tom. "Something like April Fool's Day on Earth. They have
this practical joke festival. I think you and Tuvok are two of the
victims this year."
"Wonderful. And I don't even have time to get a clean uniform, so
everyone'll know. Is there anything else I should know about this
festival?"
"That's all we've got so far, Captain," said B'Elanna. "Except for one
other thing. The President said that it's known as Wayfarers' Eve,
and they have to take in any lost travellers and give them a good
meal, a bed for the night, and three vegetables." In response to two
amazed looks, she finished, "That's what he said."
"Three vegetables. With my luck, they probably grow leola root here."
Janeway shrugged her shoulders. "Well, I think we just have to take it
with good humour. Come on, Tuvok, the VIP enclosure's over this way."
The knowing laughter and widespread red hair at their entry subsided
after a few endless minutes, and from then on Janeway relaxed and
enjoyed the spectacle of a truly impressive firework display.
Remarkable how this particular form of entertainment had evolved
independently, thousands of light years from Earth, and yet followed
broadly similar lines. There were rockets, and Roman candles, and
something like a Catherine wheel which managed to throw out coloured
lights directly upwards. Things whizzed and screamed and banged, and
lights of every colour flew across the sky. There was another element,
too; beneath the fireballs and showers of colour, Meritians in luminous
costumes, flares in hand, acted out the story of a battle remembered by
nobody.
The sound of her commbadge caught her unawares. The display seemed to
fade before her eyes as she listened to the voice of a worried Ensign
Kim.
"Captain, we seem to be getting fluctuations in the warp core. I
think we missed some of the damage we took from the Seronin Autarchy
ships. We'll have to take the warp core offline for repairs."
"Acknowledged, Harry. Do you need B'Elanna up there?"
"She's already here, Captain. She and Tom beamed up a few minutes
ago."
"Thanks for keeping me informed. Carry on, Ensign."
"Trouble, Captain?" The City President looked round from the front
row, his hair turning blue with concern.
"Just a minor matter, Mr. President. It should be..." Janeway's
commbadge chimed again.
"Torres to Janeway. Captain, we can't shut down the warp core. There's
a danger of a runaway reaction. Request permission to evacuate the
remaining crew as a precaution."
This sounded serious, although with half the crew on shoreline there
would be less disruption than there might have been. "Stand by,
B'Elanna." Janeway turned to the City President. "Mr. President, I'd
like to..."
"No need, Captain," replied the President. "Your people are welcome
here until your repairs are finished. Tonight of all nights."
"Thank you, sir." Janeway reactivated her commbadge. "B'Elanna, proceed
with the evacuation."
"Aye, Captain." A voice - it sounded like Tom Paris - shouted
something about thoron bursts in the background. "This may take a
little more work than..." An alarm could clearly be heard over the
commlink, followed by the computer's voice.
"Warning. Warp core breach is immanent. Evacuate Engineering
immediately."
"Stand by, Captain, I'm trying to contain it" came B'Elanna's voice
again. The sounds over the commlink seemed louder every moment, and
head after head turned away from the firework display as a drama more
serious and more immediate was played out before them in sound.
"Warning. Warp core breach in one minute."
"We've got everyone out, Captain. Evacuating Engineering." A pause.
"Lieutenant Carey reports all nonessential crewmen are on the planet's
surface. I think I can get this under control."
"B'Elanna, get out of there if you need to."
"No problem, Captain. I'm setting up a damping field to control the
reaction, and I'll jettison the warp core if I can't..."
"Warning. Warp core breach in thirty seconds."
"I'm going to have to jettison the warp core, Captain. Joe, get the
Engineering team out of here." There was the sound of a transporter
beam over the commlink, then B'Elanna's voice was heard again. "The
mechanism's jammed. I'll have to leave it, Captain. I'm sorry."
"Just get yourself out, B'Elanna."
"Captain - the Doctor!"
"Warp core breach in fifteen seconds."
"He's still in sickbay. I have to get his mobile emitter."
"B'Elanna, get yourself out of there," called Janeway.
"It'll only take..." The voice was cut off abruptly, and the commlink
signal gave way to static.
There was no sound, of course, but above the fireworks a new star
blazed briefly in the Meritian heavens. Voyager's orbit must have been
taking it directly over the city at this moment, and, as the sky lit
up, the crowd fell silent. Janeway watched, stunned, as the bright
light faded slowly, unable to speak or think.
As a hum of conversation rose from the crowd, Janeway realised that
the firework display had either run its course or been halted. The
crowd in the terrace below began to look restless, as the cold of the
winter's night began to register in the absence of any other source of
excitement.
Tom Paris was suddenly at her side. "Captain, I think we got everyone
out. We may have a problem, though. Voyager's orbit was decaying.
The ship could drop out of orbit any time, and we don't know where it
might land. B'Elanna should be able to work out the effect of the
warp core explosion on its trajectory - did she beam down here?"
Janeway felt her stomach turn over. "She's not here. She went back for
the Doctor. I think she was..."
A shout from the crowd interrupted her, and they looked round to see
fingers pointing in the direction of the explosion. Just visible, but
steadily growing brighter, was another new star; but, unlike any
falling star she'd ever seen, this one was completely stationary
against the backdrop of stars.
"Voyager - she must be coming down right on top of us!" Janeway
wondered for a moment who had spoken, then realised it was her. "Mr.
President, the ship... your people..."
The President, green-haired with fear, was already speaking to a
communication device. "What do you mean, you can't track it? Find it!
We can't lose a minute here!" He lowered the device and addressed
Janeway. "Captain, should your ship be invisible to radar detection?"
"No, unless..." Something was wrong. Janeway turned to look at Tom
Paris. She knew he was good at hiding his feelings, but was he really
that good? She'd as good as told him B'Elanna was dead, yet he'd
shown no reaction. Then, as she looked, his right eye seemed to close
and open again.
If there was one thing Starfleet prided its Captains on, it was fast
responses to changing parameters. "Unless the core explosion activated
the multiphasic shielding. Try switching to passive photonic sensors.
You should be able to pick something up."
In the crowd, some screams were heard, and a few people were starting
to run, although none seemed to know a safe place to run to. Above the
city, what had been a simple point of light had now resolved itself
into an extended oval, surrounded by a halo of flame. Little detail
could be seen, but to Janeway there was no doubt that she was seeing
Voyager, falling from the sky in flames and about to land right on top
of the Meritian city. No doubt, except for a helmsman's face that
didn't fit the situation.
The City President issued a quick order. Moments later, twin phaser
beams stabbed into the sky. The first shot appeared to have hit the
falling ship squarely, but no change could be seen. Then, as a second
shot struck its mark, the remains of the ship exploded in a roar loud
enough to drown out the loudest of the evening's fireworks, and the
sky filled with flame.
Janeway looked around as a palpable wave of relief swept over the
crowd, green hair turning white on every head. Above them, the flames
and smoke began to disperse into patches. She was just starting to turn
away when Tom Paris gently took her arm. Briefly looking her in the
eye, he then turned his gaze back towards the sky, drawing hers with it.
The patches of flame that remained were beginning to form patterns, half
of which looked strangely familiar. The buzz of conversation around them
slowly died away, and just as gradually, the smoke and fire coalesced
into bright letters of flame. Two blocks of text were visible, the upper
line quite incomprehensible to anyone from the Alpha Quadrant. The
lower, in standard Terran English, simply read:
The Captain and crew of USS Voyager would like to wish
the people of Meritia Prime a happy Wayfarers' Eve.
She stared into the grinning face of her senior helmsman. "Mr. Paris,
I believe you have some explaining to do. Can you give me one good
reason why I shouldn't bust you right down to messhall attendant?"
"It was a joint effort, Captain," said B'Elanna, appearing from behind
Tom. "And Harry helped too."
"I see. High power holoprojectors, I suppose. And the explosion?"
"We replicated some of the Meritians' fireworks," said B'Elanna
smugly. "Only we made them a little bit bigger."
"Just one question. Why?"
"For the honour of the ship, Captain," said Tom insistently. "We
couldn't let them get away with that firework trick."
"And did you give the slightest thought to what our hosts might think
of your little display?"
"I believe they may have, Captain," put in Tuvok, approaching at the
City President's side. "Apparently the practical joke festival is in
the nature of a competition. And I believe that, on this occasion, we
have won."
Behind him, the silence of the crowd was broken by a few nervous
laughs. The laughter was infectious, and within seconds, the entire
crowd had broken into spontaneous clapping, cheering and whistling.
Stamping feet gradually acquired a rhythm, and a chant of "Voy-a-ger!
Voy-a-ger! Voy-a-ger!" gradually grew in volume.
"Indeed you have, Captain," said the City President, his hair a
satisfied shade of orange. "Unless someone comes up with something
even more impressive in the next hour. Please accept my
congratulations. Such realism, such spectacle - almost as good as
the great Knef'torp invasion of '47. Quite the best performance of
the last ten years."
"Well, Mr. President, we couldn't let you get away with that firework
trick," replied Janeway, ignoring the indignant sounds coming from
her senior staff. "I hope this won't prejudice our trade negotiations
with your people."
"On the contrary, Captain," replied the President. "According to the
traditions of Wayfarers' Eve, I now have to offer your entire crew a
good meal, hospitality for the night..."
"And three vegetables?" asked B'Elanna.
"For each member of your crew. Fortunately, my advisors tell me we
have a native root which is compatible with your biochemistry. I
shall have four hundred and twenty-nine of them beamed to your ship -
which I understand is still in orbit, now our sensors are looking in
the right place." The City President gave an indulgent smile at his
own witticism.
"You're very generous, Mr. President," said Janeway. She was about to
add something, when Tom Paris cut in.
"Did you say root?"
"Yes, Mr... er..."
"Paris."
"Mr. Paris. Your ambassador chose it personally. It bears a strong
similarity to a condiment of his home world, which he informed me was
in short supply. We have large supplies available; for some reason, it
has never been popular here."
Janeway made a quick calculation. Knowing Neelix's genius for making
supplies stretch, this gift would last them at least a month. She took
a long, hard look at the City President, but there was nothing in his
face or hair colour to indicate that he might have retaliated for Tom
and B'Elanna's joke with one of his own. On the other hand, she mused,
maybe politicians could control their hair colour to some extent.
There was only one response. "In that case, Mr. President, allow us to
extend Voyager's hospitality to you in return. I'll ask our head chef
to prepare a banquet for the city's ruling council." That should see
off a fair bit of the new-found leola root.
The City President seemed slightly taken aback, and his hair began to
acquire a pale yellow tint. "Thank you, Captain. I'm sure the
councillors will be honoured to attend." He stood silent for a moment,
obviously lost in furious thought. Eventually, he seemed to give up.
"Unfortunately, it will take at least another hour to contact them.
By which time," he added with a desperate air, "Wayfarers' Eve will of
course be over."
"All good things must come to an end," said Janeway triumphantly.
"Very true," replied the City President. Then he brightened up
slightly. "Unless, of course, we could persuade you to stay until this
time next year?"
THE END
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