Disclaimer: 'The Adventures of the Galaxy Rangers' is copyrighted by Hearst Entertainment, Inc.
This is a work of fanfiction and I make no profit of it.
Author's note: Enjoy the season!
"I'm sorry, Zach, but I really can't make it to work."
Niko looked deadly pale, even over the vid phone, and Zachary hastened to assure her that she should stay in bed and not worry about her duties.
There was nothing about writing reports that could not wait.
"I really tried, but between dizzy spells and coughing fits, I don't think I'd be a good guide for the ambassadors from Ri-rek."
Right. There was something that could not wait. The Ri-rek were going to send representatives to Earth for the first time, and the League could not afford to miss the opportunity to establish diplomatic relationships with the first people from the Iliad Nebula willing to do so.
Niko must have seen his puzzled frown.
"Maybe I could come in the afternoon if ..."
A coughing fit drowned whatever she had been going to say.
"You're not going to leave your quarters," Zach ordered sternly.
He had not kept his team alive out there on the frontier to loose them in peace missions, and Niko looked worse than a Mars goose after plucking.
"I'm going to give the mission to..."
He tried to come up with someone from the diplomatic corps and realized to his horror that all of them had gone home for the holidays.
He himself was tied up in the reception for the Andorean and Kirwin ambassadors; Walsh had to attend a party held by the BWL; and the only one of his team who was here was – Gooseman.
Zach swallowed nervously.
"I'll give it to ... someone else."
Niko watched him doubtfully from behind a huge handkerchief.
"If there's a problem, they can always call me. And I've prepared a summary, it must be somewhere on my desk..."
"Just get better."
Zach waited till Niko had closed the connection before he added "if possible within the next two hours".
"Is something wrong?" Zozo asked as he came into the S5 rangers' office, carrying a huge metal box that was adorned with dancing Moothmooses.
"No, nothing important. Just some minor problems with diplomatic protocol."
Zachary wondered whether to have Goose read the diplomatic protocol or whether that would only guarantee that the Super Trooper did not forget to break any of its rules.
"Where are Niko and Doc? I've wonderful trees for all of you," Zozo beamed. "They grow in less than two hours."
Zach eyed the Moothmoose box with sudden apprehension.
"You did make sure that they are sterile, didn't you?"
"Of course we did. We even tested them on Granna. It was the settlers who suggested we should integrate the candles into the firs."
"They grow with candles?" Zach asked, alarmed, suddenly seeing visions of burning candles, trees aflame and smoldering carpets before his inner eyes. He had fought for years to have a tree with only electric candles in his family.
"Only some kinds. We've also got some with integrated oranges and gingerbread. You have to try them out!"
Zozo took a small jute bag out of his Moothmoose box and placed it on Zachary's desk.
"They only need some earth and about a spoonful of water."
"Would coffee and sugar do?" Goose asked from the direction of the coffee kitchen.
"We don't want to risk any mutations," Zachary replied.
"Pity. I liked those flying tomatoes on Floko. They made good target practice."
"Zozo," Waldo chided as he entered the room. "It's not yet present exchange day."
Zozo briefly interrupted his task of planting Christmas tree seeds in coffee mugs.
"You're only jealous that they didn't want your calculus primers in the mall."
"You've been distributing presents in the mall?" Zachary asked, worried.
"Ahm, yes", Waldo admitted and produced a thick gray textbook titled 'Differential Equations for Beginners' from his jute bag.
"Peace and understanding to you," he said as he extended the present to Zachary.
Goose came into the office, carrying a coffee pot, and glanced at the title.
"I wouldn't emphasize the understanding part that much."
"It is explained very well in the book," Waldo protested.
"I think children should be introduced to mathematics at an early age."
"They liked my trees better," Zozo teased as he poured coffee in the mugs with the seeds.
Zachary had other preoccupations than the mathematical education of kids or trees.
Headlines such as "Kirwin invasion: Kiwi Clause replaces Santa Claus" and "All give and no take: Andorean generosity sabotages Christmas sales" were dancing before his inner eyes.
He wondered how long it would take the a c t c c (association for the conservation of traditional Christmas customs -- pronounced aztec) to produce those headlines – and whether he actually should send the Ri-rek ambassadors to them.
The swamp trees definitely added a nice touch to BETA, Doc thought. He would have been the last to object to an arboretum on the base – he only would have preferred it if someone had told him where they had relocated his office.
"No, ma'am, I'm not trying to bribe you to keep you from doing what you feel you must do."
The voice sounded definitely like Zachary, Doc thought, lost amidst lianas that resembled Christmas garlands and bushes with something that looked and smelled like waffles on top of them.
"No, we're not selling out Earth to aliens."
Definitely Zachary.
Doc peered around a tree with hay star blossoms to see his superior leaning in on his vid screen in an anxious discussion, displaying exactly the kind of dignified indignation that only he and true-born Andoreans could muster.
"Is Queenie paying her Christmas wishes?" he joked.
Zachary jerked up from his vid screen, and a wolfish grin spread across his face as he noticed Doc.
"You're right ma'am; I believe I'm wasting your time. A merry and Terran Christmas season to you and your kin."
Zachary turned off the vidphone, and Doc had the sudden feeling that he would have liked to stay on Tarkon a few days longer, intrigues and duels or not.
"Doc, you're already back from Tarkon?"
"Did Maya throw you off planet or what?" Gooseman's voice inquired from behind a palm hedge with angel decoration.
"No, we were getting along excellently. We were even preparing a Christmas party at the royal palace when King Spartos decided all of a sudden he didn't want to keep me from home on such an important holiday."
"He didn't like your Christmas decorations?"
"My Gooseman, I was stressing only the important aspects of Christmas such as love and family ties..."
"The important aspect is that you are here now," Zachary stated determinedly.
"Niko has called in sick..."
"And you want me to look in on her?"
Doc ignored the growl that sounded from the direction of the palm tree hedge.
"Sure, I can do that."
"No, I want you take over her diplomatic assignment with the Ri-rek."
"Ri-rek? I've never heard of them before."
"They live in the Iliad Nebula. If we establish diplomatic relationships with them, we will have a good strategic position in that part of the galaxy."
"And what do I have to do? Show them around BETA?"
"Show them whatever they are interested in. They say they came here to get to know Terran culture. Their file notes that they speak trade Andorean fairly well, so there should be no communication problems."
"They speak trade Andorean as in they don't speak English?!?" Doc asked nervously.
Zachary eyed Doc sternly.
"You do keep up with your language revision lessons, don't you?"
"Yes, yes, of course," Doc hastened to assure his superior.
He did not add that sentences such as "You are under arrest" and "Don't move or I will shoot you" were probably not what he would need with the Ri-rek. At least he hoped so.
"Welcome to Terra, ambassadors. I am Ranger Walter Hartford. May I offer you our hospitality and my services?"
"We are glad to accept BETA's hospitality and your services, Ranger Hartford. May we offer our thanks for them?" the leader of the blue-skinned aliens intoned. "I am leader B'r'K and these are co-leaders S'r'K and Z'r'K."
He indicated his two companions.
Doc smiled his most engaging smile to cover up the fact that he had not been able to review more than the first few lines of the diplomatic protocol.
"Fine, now that the introductions are out of the way, what would you like to see?"
The Ri-rek seemed perplexed. They conversed agitatedly among themselves in a language that seemed to consist mainly out of clicking their nails, punctuated by some guttural sounds.
Finally, one of the co-leaders asked "Aren't we supposed to tell you our genealogy now?"
Doc shrugged. "There's more time for sight-seeing if we go now."
*I certainly didn't have time to review those protocols.*
Some more clicking, then the Ri-rek seemed to agree.
"We've heard that you are preparing a festivity called 'Kriss'Mess' around this time of year. We would like to learn about that."
Doc shrugged. "Sure, let me take you to the mall."
The Ri-rek were watching the hustle of the mall, perplexed, as people were frantically searching for the perfect present, stocking up on Christmas cards and buying more food than they could eat in a year, let alone a day.
"Isn't this festivity supposed to be one of peace?" a Ri-rek delegate asked, apparently confused by the commotion at the check-out.
Doc briefly considered giving the speech he had prepared for King Spartos, then he thought of his family's own Christmas celebrations and the arguments that they had always entailed, at least until his mother decided to celebrate Hanukkah with her part of the family separately.
"Ahm, yes, it all depends on how you define peace. I mean, people who spend all their money on presents don't have money left to buy weapons."
The Ri-rek switched up and down their ears three times. Doc wondered whether it was the equivalent of a nod.
"And what about love?" another Ri-rek delegate asked eagerly.
Doc thought bitterly of the present marathon Christmas with his family had always been.
The amount of presents he had gotten was directly proportional to the amount of time his father spent away from his family.
"Ahm, yes, you see, if you want to show your love for someone, you have to give them presents, or others will think you don't love them. It's kind of a competition."
The Ri-rek switched their ears up and down excitedly. Doc wondered what it meant. He guessed he should have read Niko's notes on their species.
"One last question," the Ri-rek leader asked, "what are the roots of this festival? Does it go back to some historic event?"
Doc decided to give homage to his Catholic upbringing.
"Well, yes, some thousand years ago a holy king was born and his followers commemorate his birth every year. That's another reason why we give each other presents, to celebrate the gift of his birth."
The Ri-rek would not stop switching up and down their ears. Doc really wondered what it meant.
"Thank you, Ranger Hartford," the Ri-rek leader declared. "We do not need your services anymore. You have given us all the answer we need. We will return to the Iliad Nebula now, but we will be back soon."
The Ri-rek clicked in unison and left.
Doc was stunned. But since he was already here, he might as well look around a bit and enjoy the Terran Christmas madness that many planets had tried to copy but none had achieved.
He rounded a corner and saw Gooseman at the checkout of a store. On a hunch that chaos might not be far away, he walked over to his friend.
"Hello, my Gooseman, what brings you here? I thought you hate crowds."
"Niko wanted me to bring her some things." Goose indicated the items on the conveyor belt. "Could you please gift-wrap them?" he asked the check-out girl.
Doc eyed the items suspiciously. "Your Christmas presents for Niko are cough syrup, pain killers and coughwort tea?"
Goose shrugged. "I have no idea what to give her and when I asked her what she wanted, that's what she said."
"Does the word 'Romantic' tell you something?" Doc inquired cautiously.
"Artistic movement of the 18th and 19th century?"
"Among other things."
"And you think Niko would like it if I got her something from that period?"
"That's not exactly what I meant."
"So what does she like? I thought about getting her a new knife, but she's very set on the peace aspect of Christmas, and I wouldn't dare choose something archeological for her."
Doc thought of the one time he had mixed up a Maya and an Incan vase and agreed. Peace was very important. Then he remembered something.
"She likes experimental Andorean music."
"There is such a thing?"
"It's more popular off-planet than on Andor itself. They don't sell copies but do only live performances or sell a unique recording to each customer."
"And where can they be found?"
"Paris, New York, Nebraska City …"
"That's not really within walking distance."
"She also likes original Arabic sweets."
"Arabia is not really walking distance either."
"O Gooseman, there is nothing the Super Store does not have if it can be legally sold."
So they walked to the nearest Super Store, one of only three department store chains that had survived the big wave of mergers and acquisitions at the beginning of the 21st century.
When they entered the store, they were immediately assaulted by Christmas songs that made Doc wish he had brought ear plugs while Goose simply reached for his badge.
Goose had learned a long time ago that Christmas was not a good time to have super enhanced hearing, but the Super Store beat everything he had endured so far. His bio-defenses automatically shaped the type of ear plug that had protected him against the space whale hunting captain of the Melville. He hoped it would be enough.
He quickly fought his way to the sweets department. It was huge. Goose quickly got lost among gingerbread furniture and realized he had no idea what Arabic sweets looked like. He spotted a customer help computer console, but the menu had obviously been programmed by someone who thought user-friendly equaled flashy animation of Santa Claus with hippie angels, and Doc was nowhere to be seen. Goose dimly remembered having lost him somewhere in the toy department between plastic dinosaurs and space ship models.
When he discovered a real shop assistant, he leapt at the chance. He tried to get the man to pantomime the answer to his question, but the shop assistant was kind of dense and kept mumbling something Goose could not read from his lips. Reluctantly, Goose dissolved his bio-defense generated ear plugs – only to be assailed by the worst rendition of 'Last Christmas I gave you my heart' he had ever heard.
When he came to his senses again, he was carrying a bag with carnival articles and four bags of halva in all colors, with no memory of the previous ten minutes. He hoped Niko would like her presents – and want to celebrate a big party to share them with everyone on BETA.
Just when he had chased all thoughts of giving his heart to someone special from his mind, his comm device buzzed. His heart leapt when Niko's face appeared.
"Did you forget something?" he asked, concerned.
Niko coughed.
"Could you also bring me some cough suppressant and some strong ephedrine pills? And could you bring Doc along – if possible hand-cuffed?"
Goose groaned. "What did he do this time?"
"Let's just say the Ri-rek have a long established tradition of martial gift-exchange to settle political disputes where whoever can make the most gifts wins, and their ships are assembling around Earth in a formation that reads _Merry 'Kriss'Mess_."