Homecoming - Christie Golden [14]
Harry stared. Was this B’Elanna’s father, after all these years? B’Elanna looked as if she were trying to [39] decide whether to punch the man or throw herself in his arms.
He never saw which she did, because at that moment, a beloved voice cried, “Harry! Oh, Harry!”
Harry whirled and saw an elderly Asian couple threading their way through the crowd. When their eyes met, the woman lifted a long, rectangular box over her head. He knew what it was, and tears sprang to his eyes. She had brought his clarinet.
“Mom! Dad!” he cried, and rushed to embrace them fiercely. And even as he hugged them, he saw another person he had never forgotten, despite the intervening years, the resignation at never seeing her again, and the things he had shared with other women who had entered his life. He saw a lovely face framed by curly dark hair, and large eyes filled with tears even as her mouth curved wide in a smile of joy.
Libby.
Voyager’s crew had all finally come home.
Chapter 4
WHEN SEVEN OF NINE AND THE DOCTOR materialized in the hall, Chakotay did a double take. What was she doing here? She had said she hadn’t wanted to come. And now here she was, her long golden hair down about her shoulders, wearing the soft, flowing red dress he so admired on her. Their eyes met for an instant; then she looked away.
More than Chakotay noted her presence. Almost at once, a murmuring arose from the crowd, and conversation slowed for an instant. Seven kept her head high, her visage almost haughty, but her cheeks reddened. Chakotay knew at once what she was thinking. She was trying to be brave, to not appear intimidated, and inwardly fighting a desire to flee. No doubt, at this moment she was probably wishing she had stayed on board after all.
[41] “Is that Seven of Nine?” Sveta said. “Wow. You always did have good taste in women, Chakotay. Except for that time when you dated a Cardassian spy.”
Her warm, rich voice was full of good humor; it was gentle teasing, nothing more, but it bothered Chakotay. He forced a smile.
“Excuse me,” he said, and headed for Seven before the rest could descend on her.
He was too late. Already she had drawn a crowd. They closed in on her like a pack of hungry wolves, and Chakotay could see her blue eyes widen, her breath quicken, as she tried in vain to step backward. She drew closer to the Doctor, who was behaving like a father with a daughter.
“Yes, yes, I know you’re all fascinated by Seven,” he was saying, “but she’s already had her debriefing. If you want to talk to someone, talk to me.”
But they didn’t want the Doctor, they wanted Seven. Chakotay couldn’t believe it. These were all families of other crewmen. Good people, he was sure. Why then were they behaving like the paparazzi of old Earth, actually reaching out to touch Seven as though she were some kind of—
“Ladies and gentlemen,” came a cool, female voice he knew very well. “Seven isn’t used to all this attention. You know her story. I ask you to please give her a little time to adjust.”
Small though she was, Janeway smoothly threaded her way with ease through the press of people to stand beside Seven. She slipped an arm about the younger woman’s waist and smiled at the crowd. It was a [42] pleasant expression, but there was steel in that smile. Mama Janeway wasn’t about to let anyone hurt her cub.
The crowd drew back. Janeway’s appeal to their better natures had worked, at least for the moment. Chakotay was certain, though, that people would find some excuse or other to “drop by” Seven’s place at the table during the course of the dinner.
Politely but inexorably, Janeway steered Seven to a corner. The Doctor accompanied them, trotting beside them like an attentive dog, concern radiating from him. Janeway