Chapter 4
Kostopoulos allowed herself a small smile as she took in the recreation room.
The large area was now festive-looking, but still tasteful, decorated in red and green banners, with facsimiles of holly and ivy bedecking the walls along with images of stars and bells. On the small stage area at the rear, a nativity scene had been created with waist-high plastoid figures. Wreaths were being placed on all of the room's tables, each circling unlit candles.
It had all been hastily furnished by the base's bio-matter resequencers, but Kostopoulos tried not to think about their recycled origins as she took in the elegancy of the room.
It was still early, allowing her and a few other volunteers to put up the decorations in peace, and Father Gomez had joined them a few moments ago. He had congratulated Kostopoulos on a job well done, then discussed his own preparations for the upcoming holiday.
"We have some would-be carol singers lined up. There will also be several Masses held - including a Midnight Mass - over both Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. Hopefully there's enough coverage that everyone who wants to attend can do so." The priest chuckled. "I'm certainly going to be busy."
"Good," Kostopoulos said. She went over to a young man who was laying a wreath on a table, adjusting it slightly for him. "Make sure all the bows point in the same direction," she told him, and he nodded obediently.
She moved back over to Gomez. "I'll be stopping by at some point, Father, rest assured."
Gomez smiled. "Of that, I had no doubt, Colonel." They started to stroll through the rec room, taking in its colourful sights, Kostopoulos with her hands firmly clasped behind her back, as if inspecting her troops.
"How are your preparations for the big Christmas dinner coming along?" Gomez asked her, his own posture much more relaxed, as if walking in a park.
"I've got our kitchen staff hard at work preparing a wide range of traditional meals," she replied crisply. "Roast turkey, ham, fish soup, Christmas pudding, mince pies… Kourabiedes just like my mother used to make." She smiled thinly. "A couple of our Japanese personnel even requested fried chicken."
Gomez returned a much warmer smile. "Something for everyone, then. How about your meal with the senior staff?"
Kostopoulos nodded and replied with her usual rigid tone, like she was delivering a report. "Commodore North has approved the idea and all of the senior officers have confirmed their attendance. Some have also offered to help out down here with the decorating."
"Wonderful," said Gomez. "The more the merrier."
Kostopoulos pressed her lips tightly together. "Hm. So long as things don't get too extravagant. We don't want to turn the base into a pageant."
Gomez frowned but tried to maintain his pleasant demeanour. "Well, we don't want to make things too dry either. It's supposed to be a joyous occasion, remember."
"Of course, Father. That's why we're doing all this." She gestured around them. "But we don't want to belittle the holiday. We should keep things solemn, dignified… quiet."
The large double doors at the other end of the room suddenly crashed inward noisily, admitting a large fir-like tree being carried by several Starfleet crewmembers. Lieutenant Commander McQueen supported the tip, with a big grin on her face.
"Ho! Ho! Ho!" McQueen shouted. "Where shall we put the tree?"
The others in the rec room, including Father Gomez, all smiled and laughed, but Kostopoulos marched over sternly.
"What is this, Commander?" she demanded as politely as possible.
McQueen's grin was undeterred, and she casually brushed a few strands of her strawberry-blonde hair behind her ear. "A Christmas tree. When Commodore North said you were doing up the place for the holidays, I was keen to help. A few of us went out and found this beaut." She tried to hold the tree higher, as if to show it off. "Thought we could get it decked out in baubles and tinsel. Can't have Christmas without the tree, after all."
With that, McQueen led her procession forward and into one of the corners, then struggled as a team to get the tree upright. Kostopoulos silently seethed as Gomez made his way over to her, sensing a troubled soul.
"Everything alright, Colonel?" he asked delicately.
"The tree isn't even part of Christian festivities," she said. "It comes from pagan traditions. Has nothing to do with it."
"It's a big part of Christmas for some people," Gomez said gently. "And you did say you wanted somewhere for secular celebrations."
Kostopoulos let out a long breath but said no more on the subject.
McQueen practically bounced back over to her. "Oh! I also suggested a secret Santa for the senior staff to the Commodore and managed to twist his arm into it! Isn't that great? Lieutenant Vaughn will be round at some point to get you to pick a name out a hat. This is gonna be so much fun!"
There was a collective cry as the large tree started to topple, forcing McQueen to run back over to help correct it.
Kostopoulos gave Gomez a deadly look.
"Come on, Colonel," he said. "Where's your Christmas spirit?"
"Humbug," she muttered.
Ambassador Mamao'lani paced back and forth in the large cavern where he usually met with the Draco representatives, deep in their mountains. He clutched his heavy coat about him, trying to keep the cold at bay.
Although, as a native Hawaiian, he always found Berengaria chilly, it had seemed much colder lately. Almost as if his body knew it was the middle of winter on Earth.
His MACO escorts seemed frustratingly unaffected by the temperature, standing like statues at the cavern entrance.
Eventually, the young Draco he had asked to fetch Caeldon returned with the much larger clan leader. Caeldon's dark red scales glistened in the light from the opening above them as her serpentine body undulated across the cavern to her customary stone perch, her frail wings flickering almost as if shivering from the cold.
"Ambassador Daniel Mamao'lani," said Caeldon, bowing her man-sized head to him. "It is good to see you again so soon."
"Always a pleasure, Clan Mother," he said, bowing his own significantly smaller dome. "Apologies for the impromptu meeting, I know we had our scheduled conference not so long ago, but something has come up."
Caeldon made a growling noise which always foiled the universal translator, but Mamao'lani had long ago chosen to believe was laughter. "As usual, you speak many words without saying much. What has brought you here today, Ambassador Daniel Mamao'lani?"
He proceeded to quickly fill her in on the seal discovered at the pole, possibly related to the ancient visitors in Draco legends, along with the footprint they had found and its alarming size.
Caeldon's long neck stiffened up at the news. She looked to the younger Draco, who was wide-eyed.
"And you think this footprint belongs to one of our kind?" she said to Mamao'lani.
"We believe so, yes," he replied. "Do you know anything about Draco of such a size? Far, far north from here, in a much colder land?"
Caeldon and her junior shared another quick look. "There are stories… They say that, before the Demons came to our lands, we were all greater in stature. Each Draco had a mountain of their own, and our wings blocked out the suns."
Mamao'lani nodded. "I remember you telling me. These 'Demons' who came to Berengaria before changed the world, didn't they? Made things colder and the Draco smaller?"
Caeldon dipped her head in a nod. "So the old tales tell."
"Could there still be Draco like that? Throwbacks? Or maybe a sub-species that weren't affected?"
Now Caeldon cocked her horned head. "I know not. You say it is even colder in these distant lands to the north, yet the legends tell that we grew smaller because of the cold, so it would not seem to make sense… But much has not made sense of late." Her lipless mouth curled up in what looked like a grin, baring her sharp teeth.
Mamao'lani gave a small smile in return. "Thank you for your help, Clan Mother. We are going to try to make peaceful contact with these other Draco, if we can. I shall update you on the outcome."
"A warning, Ambassador Daniel Mamao'lani…" Caeldon lowered her head down to his level, speaking as softly as she could for a being of her size. "The legends also tell us that, in the time before the coming of the Demons, we were much more aggressive. Always fighting, like mindless beasts. There was no clans, no loyalty, no reason. Only blood and fire.
"If there are others from such times, then peace may not be an option for them."
