"For you, Naomi Wildman."
"Oh, it's so pretty!" I breathed, grasping the gift in my hands with uncontainable excitement, "…but what is it, exactly?" Amusement flickered in Seven's eyes before the usual expressionless calm fell over her features.
"It is a decorative, independent source of illumination," she replied, and I ran my fingers wonderingly across the lines, admiring the lovely symmetry of it all. The object I held in my hands was approximately a foot long. It was very angular, roughly the shape of a rectangular prism, and it was a metallic midnight blue. I realized at once that the inside was hollowed out; the light source was inside. Slanting beams of pale green light poured out through countless openings in the metal, making the gift surprisingly reminiscent of the Borg alcove in Cargo Bay Two in which Seven regenerated every night.
"How do I turn it off?" I asked curiously, lifting up the light and rotating it in my grip. As hard as I looked, I couldn't find a switch or button anywhere on the surface of the gift. Seven's firm grip joined mine on the metal, and she made sure she had my attention before brushing a thumb across the bottom of the metal. The greenish light faded at once.
"Impressive," commented Janeway approvingly from beside Seven, smiling proudly. I voiced my agreement at once.
"Thank you," Seven said, sounding slightly pleased. "Would you like me to demonstrate how you may utilize the higher settings of illumination?" I nodded, shifting over in my seat so that she could come closer and show me what I needed to know. It was very simple, I learned—two taps of the finger activated the medium setting, perfect for reading or doing homework, and three taps activated the highest and most intense setting, "perfect for blinding hostile aliens," as Tom Paris jokingly pointed out.
"Thanks, Seven. It's great." I thought for a moment, and then added knowingly, "It's very efficient." Seven's lips curled appreciatively at my use of the Borg vocabulary, and within my peripheral vision, I could see my mother's shoulders shake with silent laughter.
"I am glad to hear that, Naomi Wildman. Happy birthday."
Next came B'Elanna Torres and Tom Paris with their gifts: a small, shiny model car (like the ones people collected long, long ago on my mother's home world) from Tom, and a certificate entitling me to six sessions of training in basic self-defense (from B'Elanna). I thanked them both, grinning at each in turn. Neelix, who was next, had replicated several types of brightly colored fabric, and had fashioned a very…unique dress. I felt the clashing fabrics between my fingers and smiled, even though I would never have picked out such an outfit for myself (if I had the choice). Neelix meant well (despite the fact that his fashion choices sometimes led me to believe that he was legally colorblind). Next, Chakotay pressed into my hand a dark grey stone, smooth and oval-shaped with a swirling white design dancing across the surface, and explained in a gentle voice that he would help me discover my spirit animal guide, if I would like to. I nodded excitedly.
"I want mine to be a cat," I told the room decisively, naming a mammal native to Earth that Mom talked of often. Chakotay raised one eyebrow, smiling at my determined outburst.
"You might be surprised at what your guide is," he admitted, exchanging a pointed look with Captain Janeway, who sat comfortably between the Commander and Seven. "Of course, you aren't allowed to tell anyone what yours turns out to be…" The Captain looked at him, a smile pulling at the corners of her mouth.
"We never did resume my spirit walk, Commander!" she reminded Chakotay, poking his shoulder playfully. "There was an interruption, remember?"
"I'm ready whenever you are," he countered, fighting a smile. The Captain chuckled at that. She leaned forward as she laughed, and for a moment, it looked as though she was about to rest her head on his shoulder. (I did that sometimes when he told me stories of ancient warriors and I was feeling particularly bored-I mean, drowsy.) Somehow, though, I understood that the gesture would mean something different from the Captain than it would from me. Before I could see if my theory was correct, the Captain and the Commander seemed to feel the eyes of the crew on them, and the bubble of warmth enclosing them burst. Janeway straightened.
"I'm sorry for interrupting, Naomi," she murmured to me.
"It's okay," I told her. Something about her sheepish expression stirred amusement in me. "Maybe we can even do our spirit walks together!"
"Janeway might want Chakotay all to herself, though," said Tom Paris under his breath, earning a jab in the side from B'Elanna. It was obvious he was implying something in the way he spoke, but I couldn't quite grasp it. What if the Captain didn't want to be around me? Was that it? Had I done something to upset her? Startled, I tried to gauge her reaction to my question. She either hadn't heard Tom's murmur, or was choosing to ignore it. She was looking at me.
"I'd like that," she said reassuringly, as an answer to my suggestion. She reached out to place a hand soothingly on my shoulder. "The walk itself must be done independently, but perhaps it would calm you to see Chakotay assisting me, prior to your journey…just so you know it isn't at all frightening or dangerous." She patted my shoulder once before leaning back in her chair, watching as I nodded, relieved. So she wasn't angry with me. Tom Paris must have been mistaken. (It certainly wouldn't be the first time.)
Harry gave me a collection of recordings. I was confused at first, but he explained that he had played various lullabies on his clarinet. He'd arranged them into an album of sorts, just for me. Pleased, I thanked him and tucked the CD carefully under my chair, making a mental note to listen to the Ensign's music before I went to bed. Next, I discovered that the Doctor's present was a pair of bright red shoes. They reminded me of the sparkling ruby slippers that the girl wore in the one old Earth movie that Mom loved so much. The Doctor added matter-of-factly that they were designed to eliminate joint stress in my knees and ankles, which made everyone laugh.
"Of course your gift has a medical purpose—why didn't we see this coming?" B'Ellana finally said dryly, and the Doctor only rolled his eyes.
"Ignore her, Naomi. She's just upset that she'll have to deal with aching ankles and a bad back, and you won't." The irritated look that he shot the half-Klingon made it obvious that he had tried in vain to convince her to wear some of his therapeutic footwear.
Second-to-last was Tuvok, who handed me my very own Kal-toh set. I had seen him tinkering around with the Vulcan game of strategy several times in the mess hall. Tom Paris piped in with his own opinion (as usual), saying that Kal-toh wasn't exactly a game for young, energetic children.
"It's something to grow into," I pointed out brightly. "Maybe you could teach me how to play sometime, Tuvok?" The suggestion curled up at the end, turning my sentence into a question, hesitant. I liked Tuvok, but sometimes he could be a little distant. Would he see this as an annoying little kid's way of taking him away from the important work he had to do? The room was still, expectant. All eyes were on Tuvok. I think even B'Elanna was a little interested in how the Vulcan would respond.
Much to my relief, after several long, drawn-out moments of waiting, he dipped his head in a respectful nod. His eyes were as detached and solemn as ever, but his tone sounded a little softer than usual as he said, in precise tones,
"Learning how to play would only be logical, Crewman Wildman, as I doubt you have ever attempted a game of Kal-toh before." His right eyebrow arched impossibly high, which I took to mean he approved.
"I am certain it will prove to be worth the challenge," I answered, trying to mimic his way of speaking to show I understood, and he nodded again, the raised eyebrow sinking back into place, level with its partner.
Last, but certainly not least, was the Captain. She had a cylinder-shaped present with blue-gray wrapping paper resting in her lap. My eyes were fixed upon it, and I felt suddenly nervous, for reasons I couldn't fathom. First, though, she handed me a card. My first and last name adorned the backside of the envelope in beautifully intricate calligraphy.
"I didn't know you could do that," remarked Chakotay in awe, eyes sweeping the card. He tilted his head slightly to the side, taking in every detail of the curves and swirls.
"I didn't either," I said softly, tracing the' N' in 'Naomi' with my fingertips. Wow.
"Would you like me to do it for your birthday card, Commander?" Janeway murmured to Chakotay out of the corner of her mouth, the teasing tone light in her voice again. "Perhaps I could attempt a more tribal theme…something to match your tattoo?"
"If you could recreate the design of my tattoo on the card next to my name, that would be lovely," he told her, face serious and words joking. "But I don't know if you're up to the challenge."
"I'm always-" Again, the two command officers glanced at the rest of the room, frozen in the middle of their playful banter. Silence fell.
"Aren't you going to open the card, dear?" my mother asked helpfully, drawing the attention back to me. I nodded, sliding my fingers under the flap of the envelope and pulling gently up so that the paper separated without tearing. It seemed like a shame to rip such a beautiful envelope, so I went out of my way to make sure it stayed as whole as possible.
Slipping the card itself out of the envelope, I let it fall open in my hands. Tom Paris hovered over my shoulder for a moment, but he backed off after I shot him a scathing look.
"No peeking!" I warned him vehemently, and the rest of the room stifled laughter as he raised his hands in mock surrender and made a big show of scurrying back to his seat like a good boy. Once I had made sure he was firmly seated, my eyes went to the handwriting of the Captain. I found it pleasant, unlike my own hurried, scrawling penmanship. With each word I silently read, I felt a little lighter. By the end of the card, I was beaming.
Dear Naomi,
I am honored to wish you a happy birthday.
It has been such a pleasure to see you grow into the intelligent, compassionate young girl you are today. You have achieved a level of maturity and generosity that, I assure you, far surpasses what I had reached at your age. I am amazed daily at the things you do without a second thought. Your kindness, your wit, and your spirit will carry you far; it will be a great joy of mine to watch where you decide to take your life. Let me just say now that wherever you go, and whatever you choose to do, we will be here to support you.
I'm very proud of you, Naomi. I hope this year is a special one.
With love and admiration,
Kathryn Janeway
My hands went automatically to the looping curls of her signature. She hadn't used her rank. Somehow, that made it feel more special, like she was writing as a friend, not as a Captain. It made me feel like she wasn't writing all of that because it was her duty. She was writing because she liked me and thought I was 'intelligent' and 'compassionate' and all of the other words that were now dancing in my mind. Captain Janeway, amazed daily at the things I did? I couldn't believe it. This was the woman who had done so much and continued to do great things, without complaining or expecting praise. This was the woman who refused to give up, even when the odds were stacked up against her. This was Captain Kathryn Elizabeth Janeway of the Federation Starship Voyager, and she was amazed by me, Naomi Wildman.
"It's polite to read the card out loud, dear," came the gentle reminder from Mom. The rest of the room had completely fallen away from me, blurred out by the warm haze that filled my body. All that kept me from simply floating away on my joy was the solidity of the black print against the white paper. The words pulled at me, and I wanted to sit there and read them over and over.
"Do I…have to?" I said without thinking, not looking up from the card. My eyes ran over the line 'With love and admiration' once more, and I smiled involuntarily. Suddenly, I wanted to tell Janeway how much her words meant to me. She deserved to hear all of these wonderful things said about her, too. I was only a kid, and she was a Captain, after all—the Captain! I looked up, right into her eyes. She looked slightly confused at my reluctance to read her card out loud. The last thing I wanted was for her to get the wrong idea.
"I'm sure we'd all love to hear what the Captain said," Tom commented, always eager to throw in his perspective.
At once, everyone's eyes fell upon me. Usually, I could handle being the center of attention (being the only child on Voyager, I got a lot more attention than I knew what to do with, anyway), but the expectation in their eyes, however playful, was frightening. It would most certainly be rude to say no, as I already knew, but I…I didn't want to read the card out loud. I wasn't embarrassed by what the Captain said, not at all. I was thrilled, but somehow…I wanted to hold onto the words. If I said them aloud, they'd feel less… mine. It was selfish, and silly, and very childish (three things I didn't like to be), but it didn't change how I felt about the card.
The Captain saved the day, as usual. Sensing my distress, she leaned forward in her chair, grinning good-naturedly at Tom Paris.
"But Tom—I need to see if she likes my gift!" she protested teasingly, eyebrows shooting up in mock alarm. "I don't think I can wait." The last sentence was a playful one, laced with her usual command tone. Several of the party guests smirked to themselves as Tom bit back a smile.
"Well," he chuckled, resting his hands on his knees, "far be it from me to test the Captain's patience!" Janeway nodded approvingly at his good judgment, smirking.
"Far be it from you," she echoed, turning to lock eyes with me. I shot her a quick smile of gratitude, and she tilted her head forward fractionally, eyes bright with warmth. Pleased with our secretive exchange, I bent to dig my fingers into the soft ribbon which circled the cone-shaped present. Previously, I had torn away the various bows, ribbons, and wrapping in as little as two triumphant swipes. Now, though, with the gentle focus of the Captain's gaze trained on my hands, I wanted to be soft with my movements, to show her I was being very careful with her present.
Unraveling the ribbon, I felt the slippery green touch of the fabric slide through my fingers. The blue-gray wrapping fell away. Harry snatched at it automatically as it fluttered his direction, but my eyes widened in horror, and he got the message. Protectively, I folded the paper exactly in half and placed it next to my other gifts.
In my hand I held a long, black tube with a cap on the end. Reaching up, barely able to think straight through my excitement, I unscrewed the cap and tilted the cylinder slightly. There was a rustling sound, paper against plastic, and a yellowed paper, rolled tightly, slid out into my lap. "Oh!" I murmured in surprise, untying the red ribbon that held the paper in the rolled form. The paper fell open, curling slightly upward at the edges, and I got a clear look at Captain Janeway's present for the first time.
It was a paper map, but the paper felt thicker and older than any paper I'd ever felt. It was faded in places, and darkened in others, and my first thought was that it was beautiful. It was of a huge forest, with a river slicing the map in two. Several small ponds, clearings, and tree-houses (all labeled neatly in handwriting I didn't recognize) were marked here and there. I lifted the map up, angling it so that the light of the mess hall fell across the ink lettering, watching in delight as the letters seemed to glitter.
The forest itself was also drawn on the parchment in ink. It was colorful, and elegant, and absolutely breathtaking. A part of me yearned to visit the lovely forest; I only wished it was a real place. Glancing down across the map, I noted a small signature.
Phoebe Janeway.
"Your sister made this?" I asked incredulously, looking down at the magnificent piece of art I held in my hands.
"Isn't it lovely? Phoebe's been an artist since she was old enough to hold a pencil," the Captain told me, eager to share the story behind the map. "She made that when she was sixteen; it was for an art class she was taking at a local studio. Cartography isn't really her thing, but she had a blast charting it all out. Her handwriting's horribly messy, though; it's her one weakness—as an artist, anyway. She made my mother write in the names for the various lakes and such."
"It's…beautiful," I sighed, stroking the curved edges of a lake in the right corner of the map. Images of people I had never seen—the Captain's mother and sister—flashed through my mind. I was certain that I would love them just as much as I loved the Captain…if I ever got the chance to meet them. "I wish I could see your sister face-to-face and tell her how much I love this."
"She gave it to me when I left on my mission to the Badlands," Janeway explained, eyes far away as the recollections stirred within her. "It was her parting gift. She had a tradition of pressing one of her old creations on me whenever I left for a mission. I told her..." The woman's voice faltered for a moment. "I told her I wouldn't be gone long enough to be missed, of course…but she said that I was her way of cleaning out the art closet and it certainly wouldn't be very becoming of a Starfleet Captain to refuse a gift from her own sister…"
"I can't take your sister's last gift to you!" I protested weakly, heart dropping. This was something special to the Captain. I couldn't accept it…! Panic stirred in me, but Janeway shook her head, eyes soft at my concern.
"I wanted to share this with you," she insisted gently. "Trust me."
"Thank you," I said after a while, struck by the full magnitude of the gift. "I only wish I could visit this forest. It seems so lovely, even just from the map's representation…" I trailed off wistfully, looking up to see the Captain beaming at me.
"But Naomi," she said excitedly, "don't you realize? We can visit!"
My fingers curled into the parchment in surprise.
"How?" I asked, furrowing my eyebrows.
"B'Elanna helped me program it into Holodeck One as our very own Holodeck program. I used to go on camping trips to that very forest, and I recreated it from memory, and from the map. Now you can play there, just like I did when I was your age! I'd love to show you around."
"I bet it's beautiful," I said breathlessly, sitting very still for a moment as the possibilities assaulted my mind. There were so many adventures to be had! And with Captain Janeway, the queen of adventures herself! Everything crashed over me—the words, the map, the promise of the future—and I leapt up out of my chair, dashing forward to throw my arms around the Captain. She let out a noise of surprise before wrapping her arms around me in return.
"Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!" At that moment, I was the happiest girl in the Delta Quadrant-I'm sure of it. The Captain laughed, the sound deep and throaty and right next to my ear, and pulled back so that she could see my face.
"I take it you like my present, then?" she teased, and it was then that I realized I was sitting on the Captain's lap like a little girl with my arms still grasping hers. My cheeks were hot with the sudden awkwardness. I was sure that everyone was watching me. So much for the independent, mature Naomi Wildman I had been planning to become. People weren't going to take me very seriously if I kept leaping onto everyone's lap like a pathetic two-year old looking for attention. Gently, I leaned back, letting my arms fall away from Captain Janeway. She patted my shoulder once with a fond smile before letting me return to my seat.
"I don't even know how to say how much I enjoy your present, Captain. Thank you," I told her sincerely. "Oh—and thank you, Lieutenant Torres, for helping with the Holodeck program." I blushed a little, finally remembering to thank the Chief Engineer.
"I only helped transfer the concept of the program from her mind to the Holodeck. Captain Janeway did all of the difficult work and planning," B'Elanna pointed out. Her eyes met mine, waiting to see if I was listening. "She kept telling me things needed to be just perfect for your gift."
"It is perfect," I reassured both of them, eyes flickering back to the Captain, who was smiling softly in a very pleased way.
"When I have a spare hour or so, we can try running the program together, if you'd like," suggested Janeway. "Well, that is…if you want me to be there with you." The corners of her eyes crinkled as she smiled. She already knew what I wanted.
"Of course!" I agreed fervently. "I'd love for you to come, Captain. You could show me all the best spots to read a book and climb a tree and…" I cut myself off, realizing I was getting carried away. Naturally, Captain Janeway wasn't going to have enough time in the day to do all of that with me, no matter how much fun it would prove to be. She was responsible for over a hundred other people on this ship—how much of her precious time could she really afford to throw away on one little girl, anyway? "…but we can do whatever you have time for."
"That's very considerate of you, Naomi," answered the Captain. "I look forward to showing you the program." I nodded, already imagining what we could do. For a moment, I wondered if Janeway had programmed animals into the program. An image of birds silhouetted gracefully against the sky flitted through my mind before I cleared my head and looked down at the pile of gifts that had accumulated. A rush of bliss zoomed up through me, sending unexpected tears swimming in front of my eyes.
"Thanks," I said quietly to them all, voice thick with the strength of the emotion. "This all means a lot to me. And…and I don't mean the presents…I mean, they're really nice, and I want to say thanks to you all…but I guess what I'm trying to say is that I really want to thank you for the thoughts behind the presents. The meanings."
I looked around the room at them all. Each face, so familiar, so welcome, was gazing back at me. These faces were comfort, and they were support. They were guidance. They were family. They were home.