Christmas, 2371

By McB

The function was included in her alarm wake up.  Prior to a good cup of coffee in the morning, she couldn’t tell you her name, let alone the date.  It had proven useful throughout her Starfleet career.

 “Good Morning Captain, the time is 0430.  The stardate is 48552.5”.

Kathryn Janeway had never been one for stardates.  As a scientist, she appreciated their advanced temporal nature, and their advantage for space travel and in seeking out new cultures, but there was something about the Gregorian Calendar which put her at ease.  She liked a day, a date, a month and a year.  She liked to think in years, centuries and in millennia.  She didn’t like to assign them numbers.  Days in her life had seemed too important for that.  And so with a quick mental calculation she determined that the date was… December 20th.

Voyager had been stuck in the Delta Quadrant for six months.

The crews were beginning to gel.  Ever since appointing the fiery half-Klingon B’Elanna Torres as Chief Engineer, most Maquis had accepted that they would be treated as equals.  And in witnessing her skill as an engineer, Starfleet personnel had accepted that if the starship Voyager was ever to return home, it would require cooperation with all of their shipmates.  Some friendships were forming between Maquis and Starfleet, and it was with decreasing regularity that she was being called to the brig to discipline fighting crewmembers.  There were still many bridges to be crossed, however.  Of that she was sure.

One of those bridges was approaching far too quickly in her opinion: Christmas was less than a week away.  Christmases in the Janeway household had always been a family occasion, and her father had tried hard each year to be at home.  Some years had been more successful than others, and she vividly remembered those when he hadn’t been at home with Phoebe, her mother and her.  She knew perfectly well how the families of her lost crew must be feeling this holiday season back on Earth, husbands without wives, children without parents.  She also remembered the promise she made to herself last year, that this year she would be spending Christmas at home.

Still, those onboard seemed to be making the most of a bad situation.  Tom Paris had organised a party in the mess hall for Christmas Day.  It had been a mammoth undertaking, but with help from his unlikely friend Harry Kim, everything seemed to be in order.  Tom had told her that the somewhat… peculiar Talaxian Mr. Neelix had even been learning to cook some traditional Earth holiday foods.  She was particularly intrigued by “Leola Root Turkey Substitute”.  And as there was nothing more important than keeping the morale of her crew high, she had supported every Christmas plan with as much enthusiasm as she could muster.

Which was why she was making her way to meet Mr. Paris and Mr. Kim at 0500 in Holodeck 1, before her shift began, in order to pick out an appropriate tree to replicate for the mess hall.  Harry had told her it was the captain’s duty, although she wasn’t quite sure that Starfleet regulations had ever stipulated that!

“Good morning gentleman.  Good to see you up bright and early.”

“Morning Captain” said Tom, looking less than enthusiastic himself, and more than a little sleep deprived.

Harry’s greeting was more of a yawn.  Kathryn suspected the pair had spent the previous evening in Sandrine’s, Tom’s latest Holodeck creation.  She had ventured into it once, and had proceeded to give the men a lesson in hustling at pool.  She had to admit it was well designed, but the bar wasn’t really to her taste.  As for the characters he had included, well, the less said the better.

“Come on gentlemen, I don’t have all day,” she said.

It was more of an attempt to motivate one of the two to move than anything else.  It was Harry who eventually woke up enough to load the program and instruct the computer to open the doors.  Janeway sighed.  She suspected it was just going to be one of those days.

An hour later, the tree was chosen.  A beautiful, fifteen foot Norwegian Pine with built in simulated smell.  Ensign Kim and Lieutenant Paris had certainly done a great job with this particular program – the choice had been vast, and the experience had been genuine.  She had been reminiscing about times her and her father had gone to the tree market in order to pick a pine for their hallway.  Her father had always allowed her to choose.  'Only the best for my little girl', he used to tell the lumberjack who sold them.

But for now, it was back to reality.  Her shift started momentarily, and so she made her way to the nearest turbolift.

“Captain,” Harry said.  “Can I ask you something?”

She looked at him in puzzlement, but nodded in the affirmative.

“Christmas.  What are you doing for Christmas?” he said.

“I hadn’t thought about it Mr. Kim.  I presumed I’d be celebrating with the rest of the crew, in the mess hall,” she said, with a slight frown.  She didn’t really understand where he was going with this line of questioning.

Harry twiddled his thumbs, looked to the carpet and back up again before speaking:

“It’s just, and I’m sure you know this, but it’s customary for a captain to eat with her first officer on Christmas Day.  A private dinner.  I was wondering if you wanted Tom and I to organise something for you and Chakotay…”

Paris grinned, before a mask of complete innocence appeared on his face, and he shrugged.

“Harry’s right Captain, it is tradition after all.  In any case, surely a lovely romantic dinner for two in your quarters…”

“I doubt it, Mr. Paris” she interrupted.  “And I have to be on the bridge in five minutes, so goodbye to you both.  Thank you for allowing me to join you this morning, it was… an experience.”  She entered the turbolift, and as the doors shut behind her she was sure she heard Lieutenant Paris tell Mr. Kim that “the replicator rations would be theirs for the taking”.  Whatever that meant.

That was, however, the least of Kathryn’s worries.  It was tradition for a captain to share Christmas dinner with their first officer.  This particular tradition has been observed from before the time of starships.  Who was she to rewrite what was effectively Starfleet law?  And yet she was fairly sure that when it had been written, they hadn’t happened upon the possibility of said first officer being a renegade freedom fighter, wanted by the federation, who said captain had been sent to capture. 

As she entered onto the bridge, the crew greeted her with nods.  Walking past the engineering station, she smiled as she noticed Ensign McMillan’s earrings, complete with Santa Clauses dangling from the ends.  Not exactly Starfleet regulation, but she felt that she could let it slip… this time.  As she approached the captain’s chair, someone rose from it and smiled, indicating that she should sit down.

Chakotay.  Kathryn had grown to like him over the past few months.  Despite their different backgrounds and opposing personalities – her sharp tongue compared with his gentle demeanour – they had found aspects of their lives in common.  They bonded over their determination to get the crew of Voyager home, and had plenty to discuss over a coffee in the mess hall, or whilst sitting on the bridge.  Still, a private dinner?  Wasn’t it too much too soon?  And at a time of year so full of emotion…

Not to mention the fact that she found him… attractive.  His tall frame, broad shoulders and dark brown eyes made him good looking in a way she had never appreciated in men before.  He was a polar opposite from Mark in everything from personality to looks, and she found that she liked it.  Was it really sensible to invite him into her quarters to eat with her on Christmas Day?

Tom wandered onto the bridge, and the computer took a certain Christmas glee in announcing that “Lieutenant Paris is two minutes late for his shift”.  He smiled helplessly, and took his seat.  Janeway shook her head in mock despair and made her way down to the helm.

“Mr Paris, as much as I appreciate that you were assisting crew morale in choosing adequate Christmas decoration this morning, I do ask that you be on time for your shift every so often,” she said.

“Yes Captain.”  Duly chastised, he nodded and turned back to the helm controls.

“And Tom?”

“Yes Captain?”

“About that… other matter which we discussed earlier on – I’ve decided I want to go ahead with your Christmas suggestion.  The full works.  My quarters.  And is there any chance we could keep it between the two of us?”

He smiled knowingly.  “Sure Captain, no problem.  I’ll get right on it.”

As she called her first officer to the ready room in order to discuss a matter of… some urgency, Kathryn Janeway knew that by the time she was finished the entire crew, and possibly a fair amount of the Delta Quadrant would know of her date.  Sensible, it wasn’t.

And perhaps it was just the time of year, but she found that she didn’t mind at all.

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