Spirit Walk_ Old Wounds (Book 1) - Christie Golden [62]
Janeway regarded him, her eyes twinkling. “I see that I have quite a bit of work to do if I’m to polish this gem into a first officer,” she said.
Paris felt his face grow hot. “Sorry, Admiral. It’s just that—”
“Oh, I agree with you, Tom, and if it were just the four of us—the five of us,” she amended, smiling at the baby, “I’d be happy to discuss it with you till the wee hours over coffee. But we’re about to get under way for a diplomatic mission, and I think you’d be wise to leave the holographic rights issue, as well as any other particularly controversial subject, at home.”
“You’re right, of course,” Tom said. He hadn’t missed the hint she’d dropped and realized that the painful moment of parting with his family had arrived. He and B’Elanna had said a more intimate farewell earlier, and the small confines of the Flyer in front of Janeway and Tuvok was hardly the place for a heartfelt good-bye.
So he took their child from her, kissed his little girl sweetly, and bent and kissed his wife on the cheek.
“Make me proud,” she said.
“I’ll do my best,” he said. “Gotta come back to Boreth with honor, right?”
B’Elanna seemed about to say something, hesitated, and then smiled. She caressed his cheek one last time, then stepped back. He was surprised at how his heart ached as they dematerialized.
“Now, Mr. Paris,” said Janeway, “You and I need to get down to business.”
Sekaya sat on the sun-warmed rock and wept.
Chakotay was gone. He had left with the Starfleet people the day before. Things had not been the same since he and Kolopak had returned from their trip to Earth, despite Kolopak’s amazing news about finally meeting the Rubber Tree People. The moment that Sekaya and her mother saw father and son walk up toward the hut, their eyes on the ground and their bodies stiff with tension, the women realized that the trip, intended to bond the two, had only driven them further apart. And when Chakotay announced his decision to leave and attend Starfleet Academy, Sekaya was certain that everyone could hear the sound of her heart breaking.
They had their differences, as all siblings did, but they had always been close. And now he was gone. Wanting to be away from anyone, needing to nurse her grief alone, Sekaya had sought solace in this place. Chakotay had discovered it when they were younger, off carelessly exploring one sunny afternoon, and it was a special place for both of them. Nowhere did she feel closer to her brother than here.
Gradually her sobs ceased, and she wiped her hand across her streaming nose. Even as she did, she smiled at what her parents would say. Such conduct was not becoming of a young woman. Sekaya was almost fifteen, and she should not behave in such a way.
“Sekaya?”
She would know that voice anywhere. Although normally she loved Blue Water Boy’s company, he was the last person she wanted to see now. Hastily, Sekaya rose and dove into the little lake so that he would not be able to tell that she had been crying.
When she emerged, she saw him sitting on the rock looking solemnly at her.
“I’m sorry you’ve been crying,” he said. She almost smiled. It had been silly to think she could slip anything past him. “I will miss Chakotay too. It was always the three of us doing everything together. It will be very different now.”
He did seem sad, but also, as always, a bit distant and a little dreamy, as if he wasn’t fully present. Sekaya eased herself out of the pool and sat beside him. He seemed not to mind that her wet swimming sarong made a little puddle that expanded to include him. They stared silently into the water, their reflections shimmering into solidity as the surface calmed.
“I don’t know what I’ll do without him,” Sekaya admitted finally. “I feel like half of myself has gone. And it was so sudden, so unexpected. I had no idea.”
Blue Water Boy looked at her and smiled. He had grown tall and lanky with the passing of the years, but had lost none of his little-boy sweetness.
“You knew, Sky,” he said, using the nickname he’d created as a little boy trying to pronounce her