The Lower Decks Series:
PRICETAGS
by ALM_Voyager
© October 5, 2000
Disclaimer: Voyager belongs to Paramount Pictures. No infringement intended.
The next day:
Sickbay. The torment of an EMH.
"I just don't see why B'Elanna couldn't find a way for my program to exist beyond the holographic confines of this room!" the Doctor stated with an overdramatic tone to Kes as she worked at proofing a PADD report for him.
"I'm sure she spent a lot of time trying to find a solution," Kes offered in a calm tone, smiling at the man who she was beginning to ever-so admire.
"I had to wake her up at 0500 hours, yesterday, to get an answer one way or another. Obviously if it had been a priority, she would have notified me immediately!" he stated as he pushed his rolling chair, from his desk, to a nearby console.
"Doctor," Kes set about stating the facts, "B'Elanna was busy the night before trying to solve the spacial hubs technicalities. I'm sure she used as much time for you as she could spare." Any more of an explanation and Kes wasn't sure if she would hurt one of his emotional subroutines or not.
"Well," the Doctor calmed visibly. "I had wanted to experience shopping for the first time, in the," he paused, "holographic flesh. Especially considering Mr. Neelix negotiated 40,000 pintbics of credit to be distributed to the ship and crew."
"I was surprised he was able to negotiate that much. Now everyone has enough for something, beyond the bare essentials for the trip. I wouldn't be surprised if the Captain made him an Ambassador," Kes smiled happily. She had been close to Neelix for a while, and had known he was a gifted individual -- in a unique sort of way -- but what she hadn't counted on was how they had both blossomed since being on Voyager during only three months.
"Ambassador? I don't think so," the EMH stated without a second thought. "Most unlikely," he added. "Since I won't be able to go shopping with the crew," he smiled at Kes who had secretly shook her head a moment before, "Lieutenant Torres came up with a backup plan that will, for the time being, work just as well."
Kes waited, smiling, for his response, "And what's that?"
"This console is connected to the Hub's online purchasing roster."
"Doctor?"
"Don't you see," he smiled with a huge amount of pleasure, "I can shop from the comfort and safety of my own home -- from Voyager!"
"Are you sure you don't want members of the crew to pick anything up for you?" Kes asked, unsure if ordering via Voyager's computer was a smart thing to do.
"No," he was a stubborn hologram. "I know what I'm doing, Kes."
Even through his words, the young Ocampa Woman had to wonder if that were true.
Lieutenant Tom Paris, Ensign Harry Kim, Ensign Brandon Lebeaux and Lieutenant Ian MacLaren stood before Commander Chakotay, outside of transporter room two. No doubt, they knew what he had to say.
"Let me remind you," Chakotay stated softly, but with an experience in command that was projected through his voice, "that we can not have any problems while the crew is on the hub. That means what, Mr. Paris?"
Tom wondered why everyone always thought he would be the first to cause trouble with anything and everything that they came across during their journey home. He raised his eyes heavenward, "No bars, No alien-beers, no betting and no brawls."
"Thank you," Chakotay smiled, enjoying putting the young, smart pilot on the spot.
"Sure," Tom muttered stoically.
"We have a mission to fulfill," Chakotay stated. "It is imperative that we use this opportunity to buy as many Christmas gifts as necessary."
"Yeah, when's the next time we'll be handed money and a mall, to save our hides from the women on this ship, in the Delta Quadrant?" Tom asked gaining a laugh from the other two men who stood by their side.
"I'm glad you see the importance of this, Mr. Paris," Chakotay eyed him.
Harry spoke up, "Remind me why we're buying as many gifts as we are for women we hardly know?"
"One," Chakotay chuckled, "because they're women. Two, because they're *Starfleet* and *Maquis* women and three," he didn't try to hide the twinkle in his eye, "because if we don't, and Christmas rolls around and Santa fails to deliver -- they can make our duty shifts a living hell."
Harry thought for a moment, "Okay-- but I still don't quite understand. It's the thought that counts . . ."
"No," Tom interjected, "Harry -- it's the *gift* that counts. We're stuck on a ship with these women for what could be possibly seventy years."
"Imagine this," Ensign Brandon spoke up, "there are two options. You get a good gift for the girl you're interested in onboard, you give it to her in three weeks, on Christmas day, and soon afterward you get a kiss, a date . . . maybe something more."
"On the other hand," Lieutenant Ian MacLaren spoke up, "you buy her a cheap Vidiian impression perfume, you smile, and hand it to her, thinking 'it's the thought that counts!' only to have her give you the evil eye, make your life a living hell and tell every other female onboard that you can't even deliver when it counts."
"Ouch," Harry said realizing they spoke honestly of the two possibilities.
"Imagine that last one," Chakotay patted Ensign Kim on the back, "for the next seventy years. Tom, do you have those lists?"
The pilot handed over five PADDS to the Commander, "Ready and waiting."
"What are on all of those?" Harry asked, wondering what he had gotten himself into this time during his hours off.
""We raided the database and now know every personal item a woman would ever want," Chakotay said pleasantly as though it were the best idea in the world.
Harry wasn't so convinced, "Commander? Isn't that dangerous information?"
The men paused, silent with thought.