Eriecho - Star Trek Kelvin Timeline fanfiction

A Gathering

You are happily invited ...

"No. Erase that."

You are merrily invited ...

"That's worse. Get rid of that."

You are cordially invited ...

"Maybe save that one. Sheesh," Jack Shaw sighed. "It should read – if I really wanted to be honest about things – you are lustily invited. Well, not just that." He paused and then took a few minutes to look over what he'd need.

"Computer," he said, "calculate the cost of a turkey dinner for four thousand people." The figure showed up on his screen. "Add in the cost of three squares for five thousand people for one week. Now add a vegan dinner for one thousand people. After all, it's not just my six hundred who are vegans. Not everybody eats turkey."

More figures populated his screen. "Now change, uh, fifteen percent of the turkey dinners to kosher or halal. Add, uh, tents for forty-four hundred guests. Add sundry items for the guests, things like soap and towels, dish washing, that sort of thing. Now add round-trip transports as follows – five hundred from Ganymede, twenty-three hundred from Earth, six hundred from Lafa II and the remaining eleven hundred from various other spots around the Solar System. Oh, and add one private shuttle for one Miss Julie Parker, under my own account."

His PADD screen flashed an inquiry – Specify the point of origin for the private shuttle. Otherwise, costs cannot be accurately determined.

"Andoria."

The computer spat out the figures. "Damn, we're over budget. Uh, what's the difference in cost if the turkeys are replaced with elekai from Lafa II and prako from Archer's Planet?" The computer recalculated. "Good, we're in budget. I hope y'all like to eat big terrifying birds and giant squid that can walk. Uh, add in the following under my own account – one small turkey to feed two, one bottle of good French Champagne and a pair of, uh, candles with candlesticks."

The machine posed two more queries – Which brand of Champagne? Which candlesticks?

"Just a second. Damn, I hope the Vulcans appreciate, well, any of this. Huh, computer, list all French vineyards, all good vintages for Champagne going back to, um, 2250." A dozen years back seemed reasonable. It would show he was mindful and knowledgeable but, hopefully, not desperate.

The list was a long one. It hadn't finished compiling when he called out, "No! No! Stop! Uh, maybe I'll go with a label a, a vineyard with a history. Give me a subset of the first request, but make sure the vineyard is at least a good two hundred years old."

That list was considerably shorter. He skimmed it. "Picard, no, aha! That's it! Grand Siècle. Add one magnum of Grand Siècle Champagne, under my own account."

An earlier inquiry returned to the screen – Which candlesticks?

"Something plain. Can I get pewter?"

=/\=

Over an hour later, he walked outside, to the fading Martian sunshine. It was a settlement – a protected camp, really. And its inmates were all Vulcans.

The mad Romulan, Nero, had destroyed their home world four years previously. And so all surviving Vulcans had been gathered up and placed into a kind of protective custody. Vulcans were located and brought not only to Mars, but to Oberon and Callisto, and Lafa II and Andoria, and to other worlds as well. Allies had wanted to assist each other, and there was quite the sense of urgency, as only a few known Vulcans remained, no more than perhaps twelve thousand.