When they reached Micky’s quarters Chakotay sat down on one of the beds and Micky sat down on the other.
"So, now that you’ve seen the ship, do you have a preference for where you’d like to work on the ship?"
Micky grinned, "Engineering!"
Chakotay laughed, "Any reason why?"
"I like working on models -- I’m . . . or I was . . . working on a working gyrocopter. I’d also like to learn the physics behind the mechanics of that drive."
"Are you any good with Physics? The mechanics of the Warp Drive and Cochrane Physics are not very easy!"
"I love Physics! If it hadn’t been for The Monkees, I’d have begun to work on a Quantum Physics degree."
"Well, then, I’ll talk to Captain Janeway right away. Do you have any more questions, or are you going to go give Neelix his cooking lesson?"
"That’s right. Um . . . I don’t have any questions right now . . ."
"You can always contact me through the intercom system . . . I’ll see about getting you a combadge in the morning, and I’ll also send some information to your terminal for you to study."
"Sounds great. Thanks so much, for everything."
"That’s what we’re here for. Feel free to call if you have questions." Chakotay shook hands with Micky and then left the room. Micky followed suit a few minutes later, heading for the Mess Hall.
Neelix was hunched over a computer terminal when Micky walked into the Mess Hall. He looked up at the sound of the door swooshing open.
"Ah, hello Micky! How did you enjoy your tour of the ship?"
"It was great! This is a really groovy ship. And I worked up an appetite for the rest of my chili."
"Why certainly!" Neelix scurried over to the kitchen area and pulled out Micky’s chili. "Would you like this warmed up?"
"Yes, please." Micky leaned on the counter, looking very nonchalant on the outside while inside his stomach churned with nervousness over adapting to this new situation. Neelix warmed the chili, poured two cups of coffee, and brought a plate out to one of the tables.
"Do you mind if I try some of this?" Neelix asked.
"No, not at all! Please, join me."
Micky sat down and started eating while Neelix spooned out some more chili onto another plate and sat across from him.
After they had finished, Neelix led Micky over to the computer terminal. "I looked up some chili recipes in the ship’s computer. This Louisiana one sounds very interesting."
"But way too spicy. Besides, Mike gave me a Texan recipe that’s out of this world . . . uh, I mean . . ."
"I understand. So, what’s the recipe? I’d like to add it to my collection."
"Sure . . ." Micky started rattling off a list of ingredients.
Captain Janeway and Commander Chakotay met in her Ready Room to discuss a duty assignment for their newest crewman, actor Micky Dolenz, frozen in space since 1967.
"I asked him if he had any preference as to where on the ship he’d like to work and he said Engineering. He’s very interested in Physics."
Janeway sipped her coffee thoughtfully. "Well, I’d like to see if he can handle the physics of Warp Drive first. I’ll upload some basic texts to his terminal, and once he gets through those, then I’ll make a decision."
"Yes, Captain."
"Also, have stores issue him a combadge right away."
"Yes, Captain. Are you going to have dinner now?"
"Yes, in fact, will you join me?"
"I’d love to."
Janeway and Chakotay left her Ready Room together and headed for the Mess Hall.
When they reached the Mess Hall they found Micky and Neelix, both in wildly-patterned aprons, cooking together behind the counter. Micky looked up as they walked in.
"Hiya Captain! Would you like a taste of Mike’s famous Texas Chili?" Micky beamed, obviously proud of his and Neelix’s cooking experiment.
"Why not? That sounds interesting."
"It’s the best food on Earth!" Micky boasted as he spooned some chili into a bowl, placed a spoon in it, and handed it to the Captain. "How ‘bout you, Commander?"
"I’d love some," Chakotay replied, and Micky spooned out a bowl for him, too.
Janeway and Chakotay tentatively tried the strange food. Looks of delight crossed both of their faces.
"This is wonderful!" Captain Janeway exclaimed. Micky and Neelix both beamed.
Just then, B’Elanna, Tom Paris, Ensign Kim, and the Holodoc walked in. Paris headed straight for the counter.
"So, what’s for dinner Neelix?"
"Texas-style chili!"
Over the next few minutes Neelix and Micky were busy filling plates and pouring coffee for everyone. Once the dust settled, it was mainly the senior staff in the Mess Hall. Janeway and Chakotay sat together at a table by the window, B’Elanna sat in a corner working on a PADD while picking at her food, Tom and Kim sat and chatted with the Holodoc, and Neelix and Micky took a break from the stove to enjoy the fruits of their labor.
Suddenly there was a flash of light and everyone looked up in surprise. In the center of the Mess Hall stood Q.
"Hello Kathy. How are you and your little band of misfits?"
Janeway glared at Q. "What do you want Q?"
"Kathy, Kathy, Kathy. Why do you automatically assume I’m here for a reason other than to gaze upon your fair countenance?"
"Don’t you have a child to take care of Q?" Chakotay asked.
"He’s with his mother today," Q whined.
"Q, if you have no business here, than leave," Janeway sneered.
"Ah, but I do have business, fair jewel. I’ve been keeping my eye on you, and I think perhaps you and your intrepid crew are ready for a little reward but I want to make sure so . . . " he snapped his fingers . . .
. . . and suddenly the crew found themselves on a sunny beachfront sidewalk. People were walking along the wide, wooden sidewalk, some flew by on skateboards or roller skates.
Janeway heard a cry of delight from Micky, "Home!!" She made her way over to him, noticing that his apron had disappeared and he was in different but similar clothes. A look told her that her whole crew that was there were similarly attired. Doing a quick headcount, she counted Chakotay, Paris, Kim, B’Elanna, Neelix, and the Holodoc.
And Micky. "Captain, I’m home! 1967! I’m home."
"Don’t get too comfortable. This might all be just an illusion. Q likes to play games."
"I do not! Well, an occasional round of Canasta or Peek-a-boo with the little one but that’s all. Kathy, I’m ashamed that you’d think that of me." Q came up from behind Micky wearing clothing similar to what her crew had been attired in -- rainbow shirts that came to their knees, jeans, moccasins, and plenty of beaded necklaces. Q, however, was wearing no shoes, and looked like a beach bum. He walked off, leaving Voyager’s crew to figure out what they had to do to get Q to return them to the ship.
Janeway turned to Micky. "Well, Mr. Dolenz, it looks like we’re very lucky to have you, if this is really 1967."
Micky beamed, "Sure looks it -- but let’s find out for sure -- wait right here while I go buy a paper." He dug through his pockets and, finding enough money, walked up to a nearby newsstand and purchased an issue of the San Francisco Cronicle, and then as an afterthought, bought a copy of the latest San Francisco Oracle from a young hippie hawking it nearby. He returned to the group from the future with wide eyes.
"Wow! Captain, we landed here just in time for Monterey!"
"Monterey? What’s that?" B’Elanna spat out.
"Only the best music festival ever! The Monterey Pop Festival. Today is June 11, 1967 -- the festival was from June 16 through 18, 1967, at the Monterey County Fairgrounds -- about a hundred miles south of here. Jimi Hendrix, the Who, the Mamas and the Papas, Janis Joplin, Otis Redding, the Grateful Dead, Buffalo Springfield, all the greats! Oh, Captain, we have to go to that!"
"Mr. Dolenz, we don’t know what we’re doing here yet, and until we find that out, we won’t be taking time to go to a music festival, understood?"
Micky’s goofy grin faded and he mumbled, "Yes, ma’am."
But as he said that, Q popped in yet again to drop a flyer about Monterey into Janeway’s hands and say, "Oh, Kathy, you really should go! It’s not often you get to experience such an important historical landmark!" Micky’s face brightened again as Q popped out. Chakotay took the flyer from Janeway and examined it carefully.
"Well, it seems like Q does want us there . . . what do you make of this, Mr. Dolenz? Is it authentic?" He handed the flyer to Micky. Micky looked closely at the flimsy piece of paper.
"Yeah, it’s real all right. I had one of these in my dressing room -- so did Peter. The only problem is getting there."
"And you! Were you at this Monterey thing?" Kim asked.
"Uh, yeah -- I sure was! I had the best time! You shoulda seen the groovey feathered headdress the costume department found for me. Wha? What’s wrong?" Micky looked around to find the crew all giving him strange looks.
"If you were there, we have to make sure you don’t run into you, or anyone else running into you and thinking it’s the other you -- the you in the headdress . . . am I making sense here?"
"Crystal clear. Well, I can wear a disguise . . . um . . . well, I can grow a beard -- nobody’d recognize me that way!"
"Unfortunately, without access to my surgical tools, growing a beard is about all that can be done to disguise Mr. Dolenz’s appearance, and we do need him, as he is knowledgeable about this period in history," the Holodoc dryly commented.
"So now we need to find a place to stay, and a means of transportation to get to Monterey for the acid test!" Paris exclaimed.
"Um, Tom -- it’s not an acid test. It’s a pop festival. I don’t even think the Pranksters were there, although Stan the Man did bring acid there . . . "
"And none of you will be partaking in it as those substances were very dangerous," the Holodoc scolded, causing both Micky and Paris to pout.
"Where can we stay? There’s still six days before the festival and we can’t just stand here until then," Chakotay asked.
"There’s always Hippie Hill!" Micky replied.
"What kind of sleeping arrangements are there at Hippie Hill?" Janeway asked.
"None. It’s a hill in Golden Gate Park -- where all the hippies hung out, thus the name, and lots of people camp out there. We won’t look at all out of place because most people on Hippie Hill have very few possessions or money. And, we can get free food from the Diggers," Micky explained.
"Well, considering the fact that we have nothing on us, not even a single tricorder, this Hippie Hill might be the best place for us to go," Chakotay said to Janeway.
"For the time being, yes, especially since it’s getting late. Lead on, Mr. Dolenz."
Last updated 12 JUL 98
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