He reflected back on his minor depression at spending his first Christmas away from his family. His mind replayed last Christmas dinner. The dining table had been extended all the way into the living room. The smell of food almost overwhelmed the house. His mother didn't believe in replicated food, so everything had been cooked from scratch. She had even hickory smoked the ham for two days before cooking. His sister had been there with her husband and their three year old son. His two sets of aunts and uncles had been there with his five cousins. His mother and father, of course, were both there. His great uncle was there with his twelve or so family members. It was easy to lose track of them, since he hardly ever spoke to them. Even his grandmother had managed to make it... three months before she passed away. As usual, his Dad invited the ranch managers and their families. There must have been close to fifty people there for Christmas dinner and Mom was loving every minute of it. The vaulted living room, as always, was dominated by a three meter tall tree, trimmed to where you could barely see a single needle.
The door chime brought him back to the present. He shook his head, reluctant to clear the memories. "Come," he said finally.
The door opened. Tony was the first one through the door. "Merry Christmas, Steve!" He shouted melodically. He was carrying several presents of his own. Extremely grateful to be off duty, Tony had taken the opportunity to dress down. He was wearing his favorite Chicago Bears tee shirt, a pair of jeans, and some vintage tennis shoes. As he walked past the coffee table, he noticed the snacks. "Oooo!" He proclaimed. "Piggies in a blanket. Yum!"
T'Nia followed closely afterwards, carrying presents of her own. "Pleasant Christmas tidings, Stephen," she said calmly. Yet, despite her cool, vulcan exterior, there was almost a hint of a smile to her face. She had also dressed down for the occasion, but her outfit was a dark red robe with matching pants. She came in with bare feet, her favorite way to walk when off-duty.
Always the entertainer, Box came in last, a large sack slung over his large, crystalline abdomen, a red hat with white ball on his immense head, and somehow he had attached a white beard to his spider face. He sucked in air through a sack he made in the side of his body, then blew it out a makeshift larynx, his normal method of communicating with humans. "Hhhhmerry Christmas, Stephen," he said happily. As he walked in, he raised one of his back legs. He was holding mistletoe. He raised it high above his head and grinned widely.
Stephen laughed and stepped aside. He motioned Box into the room. "I have a strict policy not to kiss anyone with a beard. Get in."
Box shook, making chiming noises from within his torso, the Hamalki way of laughter. "Hhhhdid I hear someone say piggies in blanket?"
The evening was an absolute delight for everyone. Stephen wound up synthesizing two more trays of food, one exclusively for Box, who had always had a strange affinity for piggies in a blanket. They reminisced on their days at the Academy and finally spent some time getting re-aquainted with each other. They were surprised at how long it had taken them to finally get together for a decent period of time. Ever since they had all been transferred together, emergencies or shift changes had prevented them from all meeting. Any hints to Stephen and Tony's arguements had been long forgotten.
After the presents had been opened, Stephen was especially happy with his Denver Broncos helmet, signed by all the current players. Tony said he had excercised his ten minutes of fame after the battle with the Rapier to get it. T'Nia had given him an authentic California license plate that read "57 Vette".
T'Nia was 'quite satisfied' with the gift of a Theusian wind drum from Box. T'Nia was a collector of musical instruments, the more exotic and rare, the better. She was a rather accmoplished vulcan pipe flutist in her own right, and occasionally played as part of her calming meditation.
Tony was absolutely thrilled with the pre-release of his favorite jazz band, Out of Sync. Although it wasn't scheduled to be released until March, somehow, Stephen had gotten a hold of the initial mix. Tony and T'Nia had a mutual admiration for each others taste in music. She was especially 'benefited' when Tony dragged her back to his home town of Chicago to hear Out of Sync perform live at the Ampitheater. She had become an instant fan of human jazz ever since. Stephen, of course, absolutely refused to admit where he got the studio cut, but hinted that he wasn't completely ignorant of the influence of temporary fame.
Box was completely surprised by his present. It took all three of them pulling their respective strings in order to get it. The closest a humanish mouth could come was 'plek'. They looked like red blobs of jello the size of a softball. They even jiggled as they scurried on their dozens of tiny feet. They were completely smooth and round, save a semi-hard spike on their rump and a horned ridge across their front, where their four eyes were located. A pair of small pincers protruded from beneath the ridge. They were a delicacy on Hamal, but were very tempermental. Plek didn't survive temperature changes, graviational changes, nutrient changes, or any OTHER change for that matter. Transportation was a nightmare. The end result had been worth it, however. Box chimed happily away as he threw one, whole, into his mouth. The squishing sound it made as he chewed as a bit unnerving and watching the red form travel through his semitransparent body was even more disquieting. But, he was happy, and that's all that mattered.
Box's adjustment had been the most difficult. He had but one other ship assignment in his career and spent six years with them. Considering most hamalki never even leave their home planet, for him to be gone so long was quite a statement for him. Box hardly ever talked about his home. All his friends of over ten years had ever discovered was that he had a mother and father, and seventy brothers and sisters, only thirty of whom survived childhood. Box was a little off-beat in his humor, but quite innocent in many ways. The group decided early on to not only be his friend, but his protector. As terrifying and large as he looked, he was quite pacificial. The only reason why he even agreed to transfer to a Starfleet warship was because his friends would be on board as well.