writetober: day 20
using this prompt list
20 October: Sidereal
“of, relating to, or concerning: stars”
“Big Dipper. There.” Tora leaned down, putting the finger he pointed on level with his daughter’s eyes.
“I see it.” Benny reached up to point out another. “And the Little Dipper near it. And if you follow the tail of the Little Dipper, it points you to—”
“The North Star,” Tora finished, with pride in his voice. “You did learn.”
“Of course I did,” Benny answered, turning to see her father. He was exactly as she remembered him: tall, smiling, in the prime of his life, his Romulan and Japanese heritage making a unique mix of features on his face. Something occurred to her. “I’m your age now, Dad. Thirty-five.”
Tora nodded. “So you are. And you wear it well, Ben.” His smile softened to something affectionate, something else she remembered well enough that it brought tears to her eyes. “You look like your mom, you know.”
“She says I look like you.”
“Of course she would. She doesn’t like how she looks, you know.”
“She’s started to. I think it’s the fact that I look like her.” Benny smiled, but only for a second. “I miss you,” she confessed.
“I think you’re doing fine,” Tora said softly. “T’Kon raised you well without me. I think I somehow knew she would have to. I think I knew I wasn’t going to be living with you two much as you grew up, since she and I weren’t married. It’s—”
A mechanical noise startled Benny, and she stumbled over the words once before saying, “Computer, end program!” The holodeck faded into black squares and yellow lines as she whirled to face the intruder.
“I…the computer said it was running a simulation of Earth’s night sky,” Krya Baki said hesitantly, stopped in the doorway at the sight of Benny so startled. “I haven’t seen it since the Academy. And San Francisco is lit so brightly…”
“That you can barely see anything,” Benny sighed, relaxing. “Come on in, Baki. It’s…more than just the night sky.”
“I only saw the first few pieces of the program,” Baki admitted, stepping in and allowing the door to close behind her.
“I come in here when I can,” Benny said. “Computer, resume program.”
The grassy hill, the midnight sky, the picnic blanket—they all returned. As did Tora. “Krya Baki…meet Arisawa Tora. My father.”
“But…your father…”
“I died when Benny was four,” Tora answered in his daughter’s place.
“What he said.” There was an almost-laugh in Baki’s voice.
“I know,” Benny said. “I made this program—it must have been my first assignment as an ensign. I was lonely, but my mother wouldn’t understand. So I thought—why not my father? It was initially just him, and it wasn’t very accurate. But…that was twelve years ago. I added the sky, the hill, and fixed his personality some. I don’t have many memories of him…but this is one.”
“Pointing out constellations together in a holodeck,” Tora said quietly. “When you couldn’t sleep.”
Benny nodded mutely, and Tora put a hand on her shoulder. Baki watched them and felt a certain sadness in her own chest that prompted her to speak.
“Computer, run programs Krya beta two-three and Krya beta two-four.”
Two new figures shimmered into existence on either side of Baki, and Benny knew who they were before she even registered the similarities Baki shared with each.
“Mom, Dad. This is Benny Arisawa. My friend.”
Krya Kain and Krya Drina smiled together. “It’s lovely to meet you, Benny,” Drina said.
“Baki’s told us about you,” Kain added. It was his brown hair Baki had, but he had not passed on his blue eyes to his daughter. “From what we hear, you’re a very bright spot in her life.”
Benny stared for a moment longer before she, too, broke into a smile. A genuine one this time, and she knew it as she said, “Mr. and Mrs. Krya, I’d like to introduce my father.”