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