The Winter Festival (Part 1)

Posted on 23 Jan 2014 @ 12:35am by Lieutenant Olsam Mott & Petty Officer 1st Class Threxa Shroll

1,538 words; about a 8 minute read

Mission: Episode 05 - Solstice
Location: Crecy-la-Chapelle, France, Earth
Timeline: MD 04 - 1000 hrs

[ ON ]

Olsam Mott was something of a local celebrity. While he was neither French nor human, he did have the distinction of being the village's only resident member of Starfleet, and that made him a hometown hero to more than a few of the residents. To be fair, there had also been a retired Marine Lieutenant Colonel until seven years ago, but no one had cared about him on account of "how much of an asshole he was," according to Madame Juliette Fillon.

However, among the membership of the Olsam Mott Fan Club, one would not find The Honorable Bastien Florian Dufour, Mayor of Crecy-la-Chapelle. Unbeknownst to the Bolian, there was a long-standing feud between the two that was fueled often as not by Olsam's complete obliviousness to the feud itself.

The beginnings of the feud were a matter of some debate in the village. Many suggested it began with Olsam's total annihilation of the Mayor's rare Grand Parfum rose cultivars by overwatering them out of "helpfulness" during an unseasonably warm summer. Others believed the source of contention was Olsam's vocal support for his next door neighbor in the mayoral race, which helped bolster the candidate's "military credentials" and nearly led to the first upset in the mayoral race in the past two decades. And yet a different camp held that the feud began when Olsam backed a rented hovercar into the marble likeness of the long-time mayor sitting in front of city hall, causing it to fall unceremoniously onto the sidewalk. The bust's nose was never recovered, lost to the ages (or meddlesome teenagers).

Regardless of the reasons behind the feud, it existed. And today, it had escalated during what would ordinarily have been a small, unimportant meeting of the municipal council. The council had voted to override the mayor's appointment of chairperson to the annual Winter Festival Planning Committee in favor of Dr. Olsam Mott, the village's "hero" newly returned from three years in the Beta Quadrant. Up to this point, the mayor had been able to block such an unthinkable appointment, but apparently enough of the council members had gone sentimental over the blue man while he was away to swing the vote. It was nothing short of a complete and utter disgrace.

And it was a disgrace that the mayor had to tolerate. If this had not been such an important event, the uppity Frenchman may have let the appointment slide, but this was the Winter Festival! A celebration of the town's glory, and it was certainly not one that a Bolian should have been in charge of. Not that there was anything wrong with any sort of non-native prancing about the streets, oh no, Bastien had absolutely no problems with that. It was the pure idea that a non-native, and an alien one at that, heading up the committee for the town's crowning glory.

Alas, if Bastien said any of what was on his mind, word would have gotten out, and he would have immediately been accused of racism. Feud or not, he had Dufour pride to look after. He would have to stow his rivalry for another day, instead secretly hoping that the Bolian would make a spectacular disaster of the Winter Festival. Then the council would see why the Bolian was no good. Yes.

Until then, however, the honorable (and he was ever so honorable) mayor would have to give the... most pleasant news to the Bolian himself. It was what he found himself doing now, as he stepped out of his most respectable, fancy hovercar, smoothing out his black suit, before making his way up to Olsam's apartment.

'Hopefully this won't take too long.' He sighed, attempting to put on his best, most sincere smile, before pressing the buzzer on the doorbell.

Olsam jumped at the sound of the chime, nearly spilling his cup of tea. Unannounced visitors were disappointingly rare at his apartment. He sat his tea down on the end table, got up from the couch and peered out the front window down at the door on the street. Oh, it was just the mayor.

The mayor!

He made a dash for the doorpad and mashed the intercom. "Uh, Mr. Mayor, uh... Can you hold on just a moment, please? Yes, just a few seconds. I'll, uh...just...okay."

In the span of a minute empty tea cups and plates were jammed into the replicator, books were organized, pillows were fluffed, furniture was straightened and house plants were tidied. Breathless from the intensity of the work, he activated the doorpad again and disengaged the lock, allowing the mayor to enter the building and ascend the stairs to the apartment.

Olsam jumped up and down and flailed his arms in the air to activate the door sensor, causing it swish open. He poked his blue head out of the doorway and looked down the stairwell to the right, giving the mayor an enormous grin.

"Oh, Your Honor, it's such an honor to have you! Please, please, come inside out of the cold hallway. It's so cold there. Just, frigid. Absolutely frigid. Can I get you anything? Some tea? Pastry? Oh, I have the most wonderful tartes des pistaches framboises in the-...no, wait, I ate all of those. What about some blueberry croissant? No, no. You're allergic to blueberries, right? Blueberries, or strawberries?" Flustered, he cleared his throat and smoothed out his shirt. "I mean to say, is there anything I can get you?"

Bastien resisted the urge to sneer as he waited for the door to swing open. He smiled, nearly pained by the chipper mood that exuded from the Bolian. "It's strawberries, but I will have to pass, as I mean to be on my way quite soon." He finally stepped into the apartment, examining the color of the wall with as little visible distaste as he could have mustered. "It shouldn't be too long, I mean to give you some... good news, and it didn't seem right to do it over the phone."

The walls - in fact, the entire apartment - had essentially been gutted and redesigned to Olsam's own specifications. That meant that while the building itself was historic, the apartment was not. In fact, it was decidedly non-French in almost every way imaginable.

"Oh," Olsam said, taking a step back from the door. He thought to invite the mayor to have a seat with him, but his body language seemed very irritated. He imagined the local dignitary probably had somewhere else to be, and the fact that he'd bothered dropping by at all had Olsam turning a darker blue with excitement. "Is everything all right?"

It was difficult for Bastien to hide his distaste, but he had been trained to do so in the eyes of the public. This was no exception, as the mayor kept an excellent poker face, resuming the conversation. "Everything is quite well. Exceptionally so." Or it would have been if someone else had been appointed. "The Winter Festival is around the corner, and the municipal council had been having quite a difficult time deciding who to appoint as chair of the Committee. It is one of the most important events in Crecy-la-Chapelle, after all. We wouldn't want just anyone in that position." If he displayed his physical distaste, Bastien probably would have looked as if he had eaten a whole carton of strawberries. But, miraculously, he held his more subjective side. He would be proud of himself later. "And that's why the Council saw fit to appoint you, Olsam, as the chairman of the Winter Festival Committee this year, if you'll have the time for it, of course."

For Dr. Olsam Mott, it was as if time slowed to a crawl.

BA-BOOM, one heart beat.

This was a moment he'd been dreaming about since the first winter festival he'd attended. Life-saving medical procedures? Bah! Give him the glory and majesty of the Crecy-la-Chapelle Winter Festival instead. The lights! The glamour! The history! The drama! The food!

BA-BOOM, second heart beat.

He had so many grand, splendid ideas. In fact, there was an entire folder in his personal storage on Starfleet's network dedicated to ideas for the festival. Lights - everywhere! Enough lights to rival Paris itself. Parades - miles long! Imported magicians and street performers to dazzle the eyes and shock the senses. Food - banquets and feasts worthy of royalty! There would be enough food to feed an entire colony for three months.

BA-BOOM, third heart beat.

Olsam seemed to come back into the present.

"I have all the time in the world, Your Honor," Olsam said, a dreamy look in his eye and a bright grin on his face. On the verge of drifting off into his own thoughts again, he seemed to look out the window beyond the mayor. "It will be the grandest festival the Federation has ever seen..."

[ OFF ]

----

Bastien Florian Dufour
Mayor
Crecy-la-Chapelle
[NPC Shi]

&

Lieutenant JG Olsam Mott, M.D.
Assistant Chief Medical Officer
USS Galileo

RSS Feed