Chapter Text
USS Voyager, New Year’s Eve, 2374
Kes enjoyed the Arboretum, and thought the space should be used more often for larger social gatherings, but understood the extra work it put on Chief McMinn, Eru, Gara, and Celes Tal given how much of the systems had been adjusted from the space’s original designation as Crew Lounge, before the Kona trees, Delta Gooseberry bushes, Rilnar almond bushes, and all the other flora had been given priority.
Still, watching the final guests and crew mingling as the hour grew toward closing down the event, Kes had been glad to be here, rather than the Mess Hall.
For one, the Crew Lounge faced Voyager’s aft, and since they were docked at the Ageem-Nek’s station, the view behind Voyager through the large windows was one of stars.
The view ahead—beyond the slight glimpse of the station if one moved right up to the Mess Hall windows and looked down—held nothing.
Kes shook the shiver from her mind as she saw her husband approach, alongside their daughter, who probably should have been in bed an hour ago at least.
"Did you have fun?" Kes said, smiling at Li-Nis.
"I did," Li-Nis said. "And I’m not very tired." This Li-Nis offered with a smile that was so very Paz, Kes couldn’t help looking at her husband as though he’d put it there.
"Sweetheart," Li-Paz said, putting one arm over his daughter’s shoulder and pulling her against him for a quick hug and a kiss to the top of her head. She was tall enough now he didn’t even have to stoop. "It’s late, and if you’re not tried, we are."
"Fine," Li-Nis said, pulling her father’s arm across her chest and squeezing him once before getting out from under his arm, and dancing a half-step away. "But I’m going to take one of the beignets before we go—Gus said in New Orleans they count as breakfast."
"Uh-huh," Li-Paz said, shaking his head.
"When I have my own quarters, I’m going to stay up later than this," Li-Nis proclaimed, and then headed for the table where—Kes noted—there were indeed still a few of Crewman Augustus Emmanuel’s famed beignets still present.
"Did you hear that?" Li-Paz said.
"Hm?" Kes turned to look at her husband, and saw his gaze follow their daughter. He reached out without looking, taking Kes’s hand and squeezing.
"When she has her own quarters," he said, putting his free hand to the centre of his chest, and breathed in and out like it hurt. "Wasn’t ready for that."
"She’s not even one yet," Kes said, shaking her head. "It’s not as soon as you think."
Li-Paz chuckled at that, tugging Kes in and kissing her on the forehead. "My magic women."
She wrapped her arms around him and squeezed. He’d been off ever since they’d arrived within view of The Dark—what the locals called a vast starless area of space—and he’d yet to really speak to her about it, saying only "it goes back to Nechan," which she knew meant his experience at the hands of the atemporal aliens—the ones his faith called The Prophets—but she also knew he’d tell her more when he was ready.
Besides, if what Billy had told them was true, they’d have a long time to do just that. Between what the Ageem-Nek and Astrometrics could tell them, they were looking at at least a year in The Dark—perhaps even two.
It left her unsettled herself. Li-Nis would reach adulthood in The Dark. So would all the other Ocampa and half-Ocampa children. Voyager was usually a place of endless learning and experiences, a wonderful place for their minds to explore the galaxy, but now…
"You okay?" Li-Paz said, pulling away slightly and eyeing her. "I felt…" He raised one eyebrow. "Worried, maybe?"
Their bond, one that had been building since her elogium, when she’d chosen him as her mate, sometimes let him in to her mind. Not as easily as she could reach his, but it had delighted him—especially when Li-Nis had been first born and he’d been able to feel her needs the way an Ocampa parent could. Now, he seemed less delighted and more concerned.
"The Dark," she said. They didn’t lie to each other. "It’s a long time with nothing for Li-Nis—or us—to accomplish, I suppose."
Li-Paz nodded, and squeezed her hand again. He understood, she could feel that, as easily as she could feel her own thoughts and emotions. He had the same worry for Li-Nis, and that other, lingering fear of his own, but he had both firmly in hand as well.
Or, rather, he had her in his hands, and Kes could sense exactly how that—more than anything else—made him willing to step into the darkness ahead of them, if not with confidence, at least with courage.
"I’m ready," Li-Nis said, holding up a wrapped beignet.
"So are we," Kes said, and led her family back to their quarters.