Written October 2003
Disclaimer The ship Voyager and
every character appearing in this fic
belongs to Paramount.
Sources AltaVista's BabelFish ,
,
The Bajoran Central Archives
Please e-mail me if there's any errors with any of the langauges.
by VoyGirl
”Captain?” Neelix began, while he filled her outstretched cup with coffee fresh from
the pot. She usually drank his coffee only one or two mornings every week, and
relied on the replicator the others, so Neelix figured it was best to talk to her when he
had one of those golden chances.
He waited patiently, until she had gulped down the most of the coffee, before he
actually started talking.” Naomi has been anxious to learn a new language, as you
might have heard...”
”Yes, I’ve heard.”
”And, now she can’t decide which language she’d like to learn.”
”Neelix, what are you getting at?”
”Well... I’ve done a little research, and learned that the crew members aboard this
ship together knows over twenty different languages. So, if Naomi could hear a few
examples of those languages, it might help her decide. And we might even get a
tutor for her! What do you think, Captain?”
”I think that sounds like a great idea.” She had finished her coffee, and held out the
cup for a refill. ”I’ll prepare a memo for the crew, make sure Naomi is here in the
mess at noon tomorrow.”
”Thank you, Captain!” Neelix’ face cracked up in a wide smile, which revealed all of
his funny teeth.
Kathryn nodded, worked the pot of coffee out of his grip, and started to walk away
with it. Over her shoulder, she said, ”I’ll be in my ready room.”
A couple of hours later, Kathryn pushed a PADD filled with text over the glossy top
on her desk; from her side of it to the other.
”What is this?” Chakotay asked, as he picked up the PADD.
”It’s a memo, which I will send out to the crew. Please read it and give me your
opinion. It concerns Naomi’s education.”
Chakotay squirmed a little in his seat, nervously glancing over his shoulder at the
closed door. ”Um, I left Doug Bronowski in charge of the bridge. It’s his first time.
Can’t I read this during lunch?”
”I’m sure Bronowski will do just fine. They can handle almost anything without the
help of you or I, you know? Now, read the memo.”
Chakotay admitted himself beaten, much because of fear that she would accuse him
of standing in the way of a little girl’s education.
It did not take him more than a minute to read through the whole text. ”It’s pretty
short.”
”I’d call it concise. The crew might not be all that keen on standing in front of their
consoles for minutes and minutes, reading through seventeen paragraphs of
information, which easily could have been compressed into something easier to
grasp, much like the text on that.”
He looked up from the PADD she’d pointed out, meeting her gaze with his own. He
smiled. ”I assume you just stated an example, but where did those seventeen
paragraphs come from?”
”Of course it was an example.” A lazy smile touched her lips. ”What did you think?
That I just spent some two hours and twenty minutes to formulate something that
would appeal to the crew?”
”Definitely not. Why should you have gone through all that trouble, when all you
have to do is order everyone who speaks a second language to report to the mess
via the comm system.”
”I thought about it, but decided not to put any pressure on anyone. Languages are
supposed to be fun.”
”I take it you will be there?”
”Twelve hundred sharp.”
”Ready to teach Naomi what language?”
”Well, I can pick a sentence every here and there; French, German, Vulcan,
Klingon...
”
”Exactly which sentences will Neelix --and Naomi, of course-- ask for?”
”I don’t know yet, but I guess it won’t be anything that’s too hard. If you really want
to know, you can find Neelix and ask him personally. Now, about your opinion?”
”If you know one or several languages besides the Federation Standard, miss Naomi
Wildman hereby invites you to the mess hall at 1200 hours tomorrow.” Chakotay
quoted a few lines, which he read directly from the PADD. ”These lines are
impossible to misinterpret.”
”Is that your honest opinion?” Kathryn leaned back in her seat, folding her arms.
”There’s not much more I can say about a memo of this sort.”
”Fine,” she unfolded her arms, then leaned forward and took the PADD back. ”Then
I’ll transmit it.”
She had barely risen from her seat before he was standing, too, looking mysteriously
ready to bolt for the door.
”Dismissed,” Kathryn granted. ”Who knows what might have happened out there
while you were in here?”
”I’m sorry I couldn’t help you more,” he said quietly, and was almost out the door who
she spoke again.
”I take it you will stop by the mess tomorrow?”
”Anything to hear you speak French.”
Kathryn dug her fork into the pile of casserole on her plate. She’d chosen to dine in
the mess hall that evening, in hopes of overhearing the members of her crew discuss
languages. But no such luck.
Instead, she had been joined by Chakotay and Ayala ten minutes after she’d sat
down at an empty table. When neither of them showed any sign of discussion either,
she decided she had to do it herself.
”Ayala?”
He’d chosen Neelix’ homemade porridge, complete with a few slices of dried tomato
on top. Now, he looked up from his soup plate. ”Captain?”
”Will you visit the mess tomorrow?”
”Probably, my rations are a little low, and... Oh! You mean the languages?”
She nodded, fixing her eyes on Chakotay. She wanted him to know that she had
seen that quick nudge. Who said that Maquis always had elaborate ways of
communicating?
”I don’t know yet, Captain. I guess I could speak a little French, German or Spanish
to the girl, but there are a lot of us who can do that. I’ve heard that the lower decks
have taken up on your advice, that one about sorting things out among ourselves,
and are hosting some kind of meetings tonight, based on the shifts, where it will be
decided, or voted perhaps, who will represent each language. No use having one
hundred people repeating the same thing to miss Wildman, is there?”
”No, I guess there’s not.” Kathryn was lost in thought for a moment, allowing
something big and warm inside her chest expand and spread through her veins like
a balm of vigour. She was proud over her crew.
She snorted a little, giving the casserole on her plate a wry grin. She was proud over
them, just because someone had decided to call to a meeting she had practically
advised them of.
She was proud because they took her seriously, because they found it necessarily to
do something like that. It was a strange sensation, like it was not as justified to be
proud of her crew outside of red alert. She was anxious to see if they would pull it
off; if there would be a neat dozen people in the mess -- or a dozen squared.
”Kathryn?”
She suddenly became aware of the buzzing mess hall, wondering how long
Chakotay had been trying to get in touch with her.
”I just told Ayala that I want him to find out who I will have to relieve from a possible
shift tomorrow. I thought I’d better inform you, in case you didn’t hear.”
She smirked. ”I must have missed that part. Ayala, is that okay with you?”
”It sure is,” Ayala presented a pretty malicious grin, making Janeway suspect that he
and Chakotay had come to some sort of agreement. She wondered how she’d been
able to completely shut out her neighbors at table like that. It was a little concerning.
”Have you started with the shifts for next month yet?” Kathryn turned her attention to
Chakotay, realizing it would be slightly more enjoyable to be lost in thought if she
could rest her eyes on his face -- rather than on a half plate of Neelix’ patented
‘all the leftovers from last week mixed into one meal’ -casserole.
”I’ve begun with them. And now I guess I have to make a temporary one for
tomorrow. Vorik and Mortimer Harren are, so far, the only ones who have requested
to remain on duty tomorrow. And, I thought I’d place myself on the bridge, just in
case.”
”What happened to hearing me speak French?”
”In case I have an uneventful second...”
Kathryn chuckled. ”You do as you please, but I, for one, will be here!”
”You really are something...”
”Excuse me?”
”I can’t think of any other captain I have met, who would spend their free time
listening to twenty fragment of different languages being presented to a child... No
matter how irresistible that child is.”
”Naomi is out next generation, Chakotay. She needs support.”
”She’s a lucky girl, having you by her side.”
On the other side of the table, Lieutenant Ayala faced his chilling porridge with
feigned interest. There were times when he wished he simply could walk away
without obligations.
”The time is 1200 hours,” the Computer stated blankly. Noon.
Kathryn surveyed the room. Neelix had set up a rectangular table in the middle of
the mess hall, scooting the ‘uncultivated rascals’, who where there just for the food,
out the door for the time being.
There were three chairs placed at one long side of the table, where Naomi was
placed in the middle of the Captain and her godfather.
The final assembly counted a whole of twenty-one people, patiently waiting in a quiet
crowd a couple of meters from the high settle, which was how they spoke of the table
where Naomi sat.
The warmth inside Kathryn felt ready to explode, and cover her with burning hot wax
everywhere internally. They had pulled it off. Her crew had somehow managed to
choose twenty-one who would represent them all. She was so proud, yet she had
never doubted them.
Upon Neelix’ mark, the little group formed a line, but not especially straight line,
which began directly in front of Naomi. She was tense, and squirmed in her chair.
”What if I can’t choose?” Naomi whispered to Kathryn, who merely smiled. ”You will
have a favorite, that I can guarantee.”
A man named Larson was the first in line. He was young, and he was Starfleet, with
light brown hair that was on the verge of becoming too long for regulation.
Neelix had handed out PADDs to every person, they were written in English and all
contained the same information; two sentences which the crewmen would translate.
Larson read through the text one last time, before he extended his hand over the
tabletop, shaking Naomi’s. ”Hi, how are you? That’s nice. I’m fine, too, thank you.”
They exchanged a few polite phrases.
”Soon you will be able to say that on some other language too,” he said to her. ”I’m
here to speak Spanish, and I think I’d better start now. So, here are the sentences.
The first one; Te quiero! Second; La puesta del sol es hermosa. Shall I repeat them?
No? Well, then, good luck with your choice.”
”He was nice,” Naomi stated after Larson had left, and the three at the table could
discuss. ”And the language sounded exciting.”
”And he was right, too. Pretty soon you’ll be able to have a simple, polite
conversation in another language.” Kathryn hurried to say, idly waving the next
person forward.
The next person was a young woman, who had big, brown eyes and frizzy blonde
hair, which hung over her shoulders like an oversized cape, that was hastily draped
over her head.
She was clad in shorts and a tee shirt, and she held a tennis racket in her left hand,
lazily making it swing like a pendulum by a twitch of her wrist.
”Guten Tag,” she greeted. ”Ich will gleich Tennis spielen.”
”German, I assume?”
”Jawohl, Kapitän,” she laughed. ”I will just read these sentences now, don’t want to
miss my holodeck time!” She waved her tennis racket in the air. ”One, eins; ich liebe
dich. Two, zweit; die Sonnenuntergang ist schön. There they were, and I’m off!”
”Diiee Sonnenonthergeng...” Naomi tried to repeat, she shrugged a little. ”Let me
hear the next.”
The four people who approached next explained that their languages of expertise
sounded pretty alike. They were all from Scandinavia; Denmark, Sweden, Iceland
and Norway. Their respective first sentences; Jeg elsker dig, Jag älskar dig, Èg elska
thig and Jeg elsker deg, actually did sound pretty much alike.
”And the second sentence?” Neelix asked, where upon Sorensen, the Danish, said
his, as well as the Norwegian ensign.
The petite science officer with Icelandic inheritance, reeled off hers, and then
excused herself, apparently eager to get back to work.
”Your turn, Stark,” Neelix addressed the tall Swede.
”Of course,” Stark glanced at the PADD in his hand, then looked Naomi in the eye.
”Solnedgången är vacker.”
The next person in line was B’Elanna Torres, to Neelix’ obvious glee, though he was
smart enough to keep his mouth shut.
”Hi,” B’Elanna began. ”I figured I had to show up here, since half the crew has been
bugging me with Klingon this, Klingon that...” She paused to stare at Neelix. banguI’
SoH, a version of the first one. The second one I have no idea how to say, so I’ll go
with DaHajaj ‘oH Qak jaj Paq Hagh!”
”’Today is a good day to die’”, Janeway quoted. ”Good choice.”
”I know! If you will excuse me, I have to get back to Engineering now.” She threw,
rather than tossed, the PADD to Neelix, who not exactly was ready to catch it, and
then, she stalked away.
Thirty minutes later, Kathryn, Neelix and, most importantly; Naomi, had listened to
the rest of the languages.
Spanish, Italian, Portuguese, Chinese, French, Talaxian, Bajoran, Bolian, Vulcan,
Russian, and many more in a fine mess, probably had caused one huge web inside
the girl’s head.
The - hour definitely had that effect on Kathryn. Different sentences flew around in
her head, buzzed in her ears and forced her to choose her own words carefully. Il
tramonto è bello! O por closol é bonito! Aishitera! Te amo! Je tebjá ljubljú! Seni
Sevyorum! Minä rakastan sinua! S’ayapo! Mi amas vin!
When the mess was empty, Neelix and the Captain both turned to Naomi, wondering
what she would say.
”When I think about it,” Naomi started, ”We simply could have gotten the Doctor to
rattle off all those languages, and more.”
”Are you disappointed with all this?” Neelix asked, not having to fake a pout.
”No, I’m really glad, because listening to the Doctor rattling in the same tone,
probably would be boring.”
”I guess so,” Kathryn agree, covering her smile with her hand.
”Captain, can you repeat that sentence in French for me?”
”Of course!” She held up one finger. ”Je t’aime.” Two fingers. ”Le coucher du soleil
est beau.”
”All right, I’m thinking about beginning to study that one.” She narrowed her eyes.
”Or perhaps I should choose German... Or Vulcan. Icelandic, maybe?”
”So she hasn’t decided yet?” Chakotay asked, though he did not sound all that
surprised.
”Not officially, but my insider thinks she’s leaning towards French.”
They were walking in a dazzling park. It was late at night, but the pebbled paths, and
the many rosebushes on each side of them, were drenched in a soothing moonlight.
Their holodeck time was about to begin in a few minutes; they had decided to visit
one of those old motion-picture theaters. Though they had both been a few minutes
early, the holodeck they had booked was open, and program which ran inside was
someone else’s. The person who had been there before them had apparently left
before he, or she, had to, and somehow forgotten to end the program.
So Chakotay and Kathryn strolled around in someone else’s creation, though it didn’t
bother them at all. Their surroundings were much too breathtaking to allow any
second thoughts.
”let’s sit here for a while,” Chakotay motioned towards a white wooden bench; its
back and elbow rests almost covered by the red roses which grew behind it, to its
sides and opposite it; on the other side of the narrow path.
Kathryn agreed, and sat down first. ”I noticed that you merely peeped in to the mess
hall today.” She tried to sound reproachful, though she didn’t fully succeed, since a
big, red rose, which hovered mere inches over her left shoulder demanded her
attention.
”I had to go back to the Bridge.”
”I see. Care to account for one or two of the things you were needed there for?”
”Well, we did discover, find, and eventually pass, an interesting F-class moon. It was
barren, actually. And... Well, it was barren.”
Kathryn laughed a little, eliciting a slightly embarrassed chuckle from Chakotay. ”I
want a report first thing in the morning.”
”Of course... We shoulder probably start that 21st Century theater program now.”
”In a few seconds,” Kathryn fiddled with the heavy rose next to her shoulder. She
tried to loosen the flower, but the stem was too tough.
Chakotay reached out and helped her; the stalk lost the battle, and the rose fell into
his palm. He handed it to her. ”Computer, create another rose on the damaged
stalk.”
Immediately, an exact replica shimmer into view.
Kathryn buried her nose in her specimen. The smell was heavy, yet sweet.
”Did you find out what those sentences were?” Chakotay asked, eyes fixed on the
scarlet rose.
”Yes, I did. The harder one was ‘the sunset is beautiful’.”
”And the easier one?”
”It was...” Easier, bah! ‘It’s only a sentence, Kathryn!’ She chided herself.
But the moonlight fell so perfectly over the bench, splayed over the rose in her palm.
The bushes smelled so good, so fresh, so... romantic. If it just was a sentence, like
every else, then why did she feel so funny? It was like the pride she’d felt for her
crew had grown into a second stage; something bigger, something more
complicated. She gasped for breath, felt like a dozen of those bushes, complete with
roses, thorns and everything, were being pressed down her throat.
”Kathryn? The sent--”
”I love you.”
The End
Aah! The sappiness! Take off your shoes and jacket and roll around in it! Or, you could take this language poll.
Index
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