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48028

She could smell the death of that place.  The ashes had fallen to the ground, and the rains had returned with a simple shift of fronts.  The scars remained, sunk into the dirt and rocks, where the ashes had likewise crept.  It would all now fertilize the soil, the ashes of the forests and farms, the animals...the people. 

Her dark eyes took in the barren plain below, the amber wasteland.  Straightening, pulling up her chin, she breathed again.  That smell was sweet in a way, as soil could be after a rain, like wet wood.  The itself air was dry, however.  The scorched earth had sucked that water in, in desperation, in need, and was burrowing in.  Death would bring new life.  She believed that more than ever, then.  She had to. 

The wind picked up, sweeping up the hill to where she stood and beyond to the slope behind her, sweeping the hem of her tunic and strands of her hair, then the fire-dried grasses and coaly dirt.  She didn't blink. 

The plain lay barren, but she could see it green again, teeming with trees, bright moss and birds.  In the nether regions of that blighted world, those things and more survived.  Water still flowed on the planet, even through the clearing they stood upon, trickling down into the valley.  Not everything had been laid to waste.  There was water.  There was sun.  There was hope. 

"It'll grow back," she stated. 

"How can you be so certain?"  her captain challenged. 

Her small smile grew.  "I just believe it." 

"You have to be crazy.  How can you think of making a life here right now?" 

She said nothing at first, releasing her crossed arms, raising her eyes to feel the yellow sun, which was partially blocked with heavy cirrus clouds.  Only the day before, the clouds were still gray with soot.  The breeze did not slow, but her face grew warm.  Her heart began to quicken; her senses piqued.  She could see it all over again, everything it could be. 

"We need to be here." 

She turned from the view and walked into the court of her new yard.  There, she found her husband. 

He was kneeling on the dirt as he studied the A-frame house.  Some walls were missing, others were cracked, there was no power.  It had been blackened with fire on one side.  As she watched him continue to assess it, his eyes showed little, but she knew how to read him. 

She remembered the ghostly look on his face when the confirmation they knew would come finally came.  She had laid with him at night, calmed him when he awoke, shaking with memories refreshed by a horror they couldn't prevent.  Night after night in their small bunk since the day it happened, he woke up the same way, and she put him back to sleep, holding him near, whispering to his ear.  They were okay.  It would be okay.  He would be okay. 

She read to him, caressed him and ached for him and prayed in what ways she did pray that he would get back to sleep.  He held her warm, kissed her and thanked whatever powers there were that she was.  Regardless, his sleep remained unstable. 

Not a week after the attack, Tom Paris and B'Elanna Torres rerouted to Avalar.  He needed to see it; he needed to help if anyone needed help.  He needed to try to put it behind him.  Seeing the land for herself, B'Elanna shook her head.  She told him they should stay there and rebuild with the others what they could of that world.  She told him he needed to do it, to see the planet grow back, as he had grown back, survived, recovered.  She needed to help there too, though her only memories of that planet had come from him.  She had seen similar planets left to smolder and smelling of death, though, and that was enough.  Staying there was the only way to redeem that tragedy and ease their powerlessness to prevent it. 

Hand in hand, they treaded the barren soil.  It was freshly wet with rain but hard with ash.  They said little.  They found some of the survivors their sensors had picked up and contacted the Liberty for help.  Then they went to work. 

As that long first day began to fade, B'Elanna pressed Tom to take her back to the foothills.  There, she saw a small structure high on the fire-stripped slope.  Treading up a path littered with rubble from the blast, her eyes searched curiously ahead.  But Tom knew where they were going.  After a half hour of ascent, they found Mila Morgan's guesthouse. 

Standing before it, staring at it, they wondered aloud how it could ever be fixed. 

"Then again," Tom continued, "we could say that about the rest of Avalar." 

They walked around.  Seeing the lake above was indeed still there and the stream flowing down from it still trickled past the other side of the house, B'Elanna looked back at the little A-frame again.  "The frame's still in tact," she said. 

"We could mask the holes for now," Tom added and peered down at her.  "How about we clear some of this rubble away, see what's under it?" 

She immediately removed her vest and tunic. 

They worked until they had no more light. 

Two days later, she didn't know why she couldn't call it a crazy idea to claim that place as home.  More than a few of their comrades from the Liberty had said they were insane, but she'd easily ignored them.  A good portion of them just didn't want to be stuck with her job, and the others simply couldn't understand.  That was partially her fault, though.  She wasn't quite ready to explain their latest impulse, either, and she knew Tom wouldn't bother to in the first place.  Their comrades would just have to figure it out for themselves. 

Tom turned a quick grin her way when B'Elanna knelt beside him on the blackened ground and placed her hand on his.  She watched his eyes as they returned to the house.  The sun crossed his face, brightening his expression, negating the shadows. 

In her soul, somehow she knew that planet's sun would take the shadows away forever. 

"What do you think?"  she asked. 

Tom took a breath, taking in the scent of the earth in his own turn, then nodded at the house again.  "The slate slabs can be transported up with the Marseilles, put them in by hand.  We don't need an anti-grav, just a few hands....  We should transplant some trees, too."  He shrugged.  "Wouldn't be right to have a yard without trees." 

B'Elanna smiled.  "I think so, too." 

Beginnings

51041:  Three years later

"How can we believe the likes of you?  You raised the trouble all around the region and left us to dust once already!  How can we trust you?" 

The Maquis captain breathed deeply to stay his patience.  He'd been through that conversation before and didn't intend to stop until that personal mission was done.  He was still indebted, and he knew those people were, too. 

At the front of the small meeting hall, which the strange old man had swiftly taken control of, the captain steeled his voice and again addressed the unofficial leader of those farmers, too busy to shake his head at the irony of his situation.  But at least they came to hear you, he reminded himself.  Don't forget the importance of this; keep it together. 

"The Cardassians are launching a new offensive," he began again, "I've already told you why and how--and even the Federation can't stop the Dominion now.  They will come.  Soon.  The only way to save this world is to leave it deserted.  Power it down so they think nothing is here.  They will come only for your lives, because that's all they're after.  They've already taken other innocent colonies, including my homeworld.  They've even cleared a couple of their own colonies where they think underground movements began.  They are clearing the DMZ planet by planet, and they don't care who you are or whether you've fought a day in your life.  They will kill you." 

He'd spoken as passionately as he could, but maybe his face would help his argument, too.  They needed to be afraid.  Then again, he also knew those people had already seen their world devastated.  By their quick recovery, he could tell they were still seasoned to threat. 

So was he, more than his heart could bear.  He had lost everything, and so would they if he did not act.  They needed more, though, to make them act. 

"Must I beg you?"  he continued.  "Must I lower myself so far to convince you I'm telling the truth?  I would not have risked coming here if--"

"Sorry I'm late," came a woman's voice from the back of the meetinghouse.  "It's hard getting the twins into bed this early..."  She silenced as soon as she looked forward. 

The captain froze, too.  The pretty, dark-haired matron was staring right at him.  Most people did not do that, but flinched once and tried to avoid him.  Out of habit alone, he turned his own gaze away. 

She did not.  She could not look away to look at him and know without asking what was.  "What is happening here?"  she asked slowly. 

"This Rodrigo fellow says we've got to pack up and relocate," said the old man at the front table. 

She looked at another neighbor.  "Is this true?" 

She took the news from her friend in less than a minute.  As she listened, she unabashedly turned her gaze back to the man with the black leather trousers and vest, soot stained shirt and scars.  The poor creature, was all she could conclude.  She did not recall him but by name, now.  The man's face was striped with fire, twisting his mouth oddly, deforming one of his ears and defining a bit too clearly the lines of his face.  His face and neck were imprints of an explosion.  She could only imagine the pain he had endured. 

Then she heard the news that man had brought and felt her heart sink with dread, much as she was not at all surprised.  So, she thought numbly, it truly *has* come to pass, just as they predicted... She closed her eyes for a moment, drew a slow breath to stave off her tears.  But then she remembered the warm little bodies she'd covered not ten minutes ago, and the man's soft head, which she'd kissed before breezing out her front door. 

They knew it would come, and yet they'd had their plan for it, too. 

She breathed again. 

"Captain," she said as she slowly met his gaze again, "my friends have reason to distrust you, as do I.  But I will hear you.  Please tell me what I've missed." 

"You will?"  His question was almost youthful in its surprise, his dark eyes brightening with that slight possibility of success. 

"I have heard of you," she told him. 

And so he repeated his purpose:  to help them leave, escape an undeniable force and possibly even save their world when it was done.  "If they pick nothing up on their sensors, no life, no power, they will more likely ignore it.  But their sensors are very good, we've had an impossible time tricking them when normal Cardassian technology we could get around."  He looked around at the large group there, the heat returning to his voice as he tried focused on the whole group.  "The Federation is fighting back--and not only the Cardassians, but the Maquis, too.  This DMZ will soon be very militarized on all sides.  You'll be right in the middle of it.  The only way to save yourselves and what you have here is to leave it.  Come with us to one of our secure camps until our transport ship comes.  My crew is willing to give themselves up to the Federation if necessary, but you won't be imprisoned for being colonists.  You can go somewhere else until this all ends.  But you will be alive and your children will be alive." 

She held her hand up to him, ceasing his pleas.  "You needn't go any further than that.  I believe you." 

"Ha!"  barked the gruff old man.  "That's just what it is, you know--scare tactics!" 

"Now, Eric, why would this man have risked his life to bring us lies?  Would you eat plasma rather than that caltola you've been fattening yourself with off the Parises' land?  They would love to hear you call all their advice 'scare tactics.'"

The reminder of the Parises silenced the room and earned the captain's gaze again in the same moment. 

"You remember them?"  he asked softly. 

She nodded.  "They were friends to us in the short time they were here.  I remember you through them."  She moved into the meeting hall completely then, heading forward.  "We wouldn't we living so well had they not come, had they not given so much of themselves.  We wouldn't have this very room, our power, our replicators, our atmospheric stabilizers--likely even our homes wouldn't have recovered had they and their friends not helped, if they hadn't risked their lives and their ship to get those things for us." 

She had moved to the front of the room by then.  Upon her pause, she reached out and took the man's hand with a sad, sisterly, smile.  "Captain, we both know that B'Elanna and Tom would roll in their graves to think Avalar had been destroyed again.  I wouldn't particularly enjoy having to rebuild again, either; I doubt any of us would.  So, I will do what I can to convince my stubborn neighbors to follow your good advice." 

"Thank you," the captain breathed.  If there had been one world he'd wished to save that he could save, it was that one, and not just for their dead friends.  He was certain he remembered the woman before him.  B'Elanna had spoken of her neighbor the last time he saw her, when she laughed and talked about how Tom was handling fatherhood.  He briefly recalled her being at the house when he had ferried some parts there, and B'Elanna joking about the replicator; she was anxious for Tom to arrive so she could get regular home-generated meals again.  They'd laughed, and three years later, he drove down the lump that formed in his throat with an odd ease he'd learned since losing all his friends on the Liberty. 

"You can't be serious," said another woman, approaching the two.  "After everything we've done to recover!  You of all people belong to this land.  You were born here and you'd swore to die here no matter what came upon us." 

"That much is true and I still mean that."  The lady smiled gently.  "But I'm a parent, now, and I also remember, Prisva, something B'Elanna told me.  Well, two things:  one being that the action in the war would eventually come back to us.  She and Tom both said it would happen, and now we see they were right.  But also, I remember she said that sometimes, the only way to fight one thing is to sacrifice the rest.  She and Tom did a lot of that." 

"And look where it ended them up," said another man, perched forward his seat, his narrow eyes set hard on his neighbor. 

"Yes," the lady pressed, "locked in our memories as two who gave themselves to and away from this place.  Had they been any more selfish, Jack, they'd be right here arguing along with me--and I'd say Tom would do a much better job of convincing you.  He was good at that." 

The captain chuckled.  "Yes, he was." 

She enjoyed a light laugh at that, too, a memory shared between strangers being no less pleasant.  Soon, though, it faded as she addressed her friends, many of whom she'd known since girlhood. 

"They gave their lives," she added, bucking up her unsteady nerve as she spoke.  She tried hard to inspire herself with the memory of her friend, trying to say what B'Elanna might have if she'd been there.  She never imagined it'd be so hard, and yet the words did find her. 

"Certainly, we might sacrifice our home a while so we can return someday?  If the Cardassians have become as powerful as this man says, then we should take the threat seriously this time and not lose any more of our loved ones because we were too short-sighted and stubborn to see this war for what it really is.  Have we learned nothing?" 

-
51533:  Six months later

As he often had with his wife, Joe Carey wondered how she did it. 

B'Elanna had Kiarn in an arm and Alaine at her heels as she set the table, answering her daughter's barrage of questions all the while.  Food was on a warmer and she stopped to check it, then she checked the chronometer, dropped a few PADDs in her pocket, circled the table with utensils and bounced her squirming son.  She worked without blinking, even as she said, "We'll have lunch later, but would you like some coffee now, Joe?" 

Carey gave an emphatic nod.  "You know I'd love some coffee, B'Elanna.  But can I help you with anything?" 

"That's all right, thanks.  I've got this."  She turned and looked down.  "Alaine, do you want to sit with Joe and I on the sofa while we talk about work?" 

Alaine froze, staring up at her mother's smile.  The girl almost said 'no' outright, but the kindness displayed above her made her shrink a little.  "May I pay crayons, pease?" 

B'Elanna's smile did not waver.  "Yes, you may."  The child hurried away and B'Elanna turned a look over to Carey.  "I hope that continues to work as well as it has so far." 

He laughed.  "I think they never tire of escaping grownup talk, unless we're talking about them." 

Grinning back, B'Elanna collected the carafe and brought it to the table, then went back for the cups.  Kiarn still in her arm, she sat across from him and poured their coffee.  "I need to talk to you," she said, quiet, almost casual. 

Giving her a slightly cautious look--B'Elanna Paris was not often the subtle sort; when she was, there was usually cause for trepidation--Carey accepted his cup when she slid it across the table.  "About what?" 

B'Elanna wisely waited for him to finish sipping and swallowing.  "I've given this a lot of thought, Joe.  If you might have noticed, Tom and I have been spending some time with the Maquis crewmembers since we learned about what happened in the DMZ last week." 

"We'd all noticed that."  He studied her plain expression.  "Is there something we should be concerned about?" 

"Not really.  I just didn't want to cause any more trouble than I will."  B'Elanna met her first assistant's eyes.  ""I'm resigning my commission and I want you to take over engineering." 

Carey shakily set his coffee back on the table.  "What are you talking about?" 

"I want to keep working in engineering," she clarified, "but I won't be in charge anymore.  You will.  You've done this twice already--you're doing it now.  It's just your assignment will be longer.  A lot longer." 

"B--but, B'Elanna, you're...."  Carey shook his head, but then catching her steady gaze, he put it together.  "This is over what happened to the Maquis?" 

She nodded, sipped her coffee then leaned back into the plush cushions of her chair.  "I liked being an officer, Joe," she told him.  "But the system that I ended up working for and came to admire betrayed me.  They let the Cardassians and those allies, the Dominion, murder the Maquis and lay the DMZ to waste.  Starfleet didn't even try to help our people.  They instead went out of their way to destroy a movement that would have left them alone if they'd shown the same respect.  Then the Cardassians once again turned their backs on the treaty this all began over and sided with a race that helped wipe the Maquis out for good. 

"We'd been right all along, Joe.  The Federation pandered to people they never respected for an easy fix, and they made an enemy of people who were only trying--at least when we were there--to protect an area that was supposed to be demilitarized, but wasn't.  Because they did that only to be made fools of with their stupid treaty, who knows how many colonists, Maquis and non-Maquis, were slaughtered.  And the Federation offered no apology.  No mercy.  They only imprisoned those who were lucky enough to survive and let us know how lucky we are that Captain Janeway's been generous to criminals." 

Carey stared down at his cup for a minute, taking in her softly assured words.  "So you're doing this because you can't forgive Starfleet for its part in it?" 

B'Elanna nodded.  "I might forgive them someday, but I can't in good conscience be what I was before, even here.  I can't bear the idea of wearing a uniform that belongs to the organization that let my friends, my home and everything that I'd fought and suffered for be taken away. 

"I'm resigning my commission and I'm recommending you to take over.  I'll also be requesting a position as a consultant in engineering--meaning, I'll work there to whatever degree you or Kathryn think appropriate, but you'll be in charge of the staff, the duty assignments and reports, everything I did that was Starfleet governed.  I'm even willing to continue attending staff meetings.  I'm sure I can arrange that, since Tom's always been in on them.  But I will be taking more time off to be with my family and to do research I've wanted to since Seven shared her transwarp knowledge with us." 

"I thought you said it was a bad idea." 

B'Elanna smirked.  "Considering what happened when we tried it the first time, I'd say that again.  But I can work with it, run better and safer tests.  As a civilian crewmember, I'll have more time to do that."  She watched him take that in before finishing it.  "I've made up my mind, Joe.  I'm resigning." 

Slowly, Carey nodded.  He knew the chief well enough not to doubt her intent.  "Does the captain know?" 

The corners of her mouth briefly soured with the reminder.  "She will tomorrow," she told him.  "We've tried to do the damage control ahead of time, and I wanted to know how you felt, too."  B'Elanna leaned forward, placed her hand on the table.  "You're the only one I'd trust with the job." 

Carey straightened a little, took a good breath.  "You know I'd do my best for you, Lieutenant Paris." 

B'Elanna smiled.  "You'd better." 

He snorted.  "Aye, sir."  Carey had just, albeit more slowly, taken up his cup again when the door behind them opened and Tom entered. 

"Hi, Joe," he said, sliding off his coat as he moved to his wife.  "Hello there." 

B'Elanna looked back and up to accept a kiss, then followed him with her eyes as he crossed to a nearby chair and tossed his coat over the back.  She almost spoke, but only shook her head.  Why bother?  she asked herself.  "How was your talk with Frank?" 

"A little touchy at first, but he's fine."  Tom eyed the uneasy officer adjacent to him.  "I guess B'Elanna's dropped the bomb on you, too, then?" 

He sighed and nodded at the same time.  "I guess it'd be too much to ask her to reconsider." 

"It wasn't my decision, Joe; it was hers.  Or don't you want the job?" 

"Daddy!"  came a happy cry before Carey could answer, and he smiled as Alaine ran from her room and jumped into her father's open arms.  He tossed her into the air and caught her then hung her upside down, his strong hands sure not to let the gleeful child slip. 

"That's my banshee," he laughed, swinging her back up into his arms.  He turned back to their guest.  "So?" 

Carey gave him a nod.  "I've already told her I would."  Looking at B'Elanna again--she was grinning at her daughter, who was slithering back to the floor.  "If that's what you really want to do, B'Elanna, then I'm with you.  I just hope you won't give it up too much once you get spoiled by civilian life." 

B'Elanna laughed at Alaine's putting her head between her father's knees and making some ungodly growling sound.  Finally, she brought herself back to the conversation.  "No way, Joe.  I'm not letting you mess up all my hard work."  She stood.  "Tom, why don't you keep Joe company for a bit and I'll get lunch on the table.  --Alaine?  Do you want to put the napkins down?" 

"Yes, Mommy!"  Alaine chirped and scampered to the wall cabinet.  Punching the side with her chubby fingers to open the drawer, she peered down at her choices.  "We have geen napkins," she said decidedly, yanking them out. 

"How many?"  Tom challenged her over his shoulder, making the child stop and count, earning him a wink from his wife.  Alaine had been a live wire all day, having even woken the couple up early that morning. 

"I need to remember to do things like that more often," B'Elanna whispered as she offered Kiarn to him. 

"Brilliance is hard to copy, though, you know," he returned jauntily, earning that time a pinch on the ribs. 

Tom finally took the baby and propped him up against his shoulder.  He watched B'Elanna move back to the dinette.  Her head was a little bent and her shoulders were straight.  That was hard for her, all right. Tom glanced at their friend.  He was watching her, too, but obviously didn't see what Tom did.  He was smiling on her work and at Alaine's 'exact' napkin placing. 

To Joe, such a scene probably reminded him of home, of the family he had been separated from.  What Joe didn't really realize was that Tom usually did that chore, as B'Elanna was usually on duty around lunchtime or just getting off duty when dinner was served.  She liked to do those simple, everyday things when she could, but she usually couldn't balance that with the work she also loved. 

Now she will, Tom thought, grinning at little.  But I'll still be the one to do the cooking...

Breaking away from the thought, Tom finally sat where B'Elanna had been before.  "Hope you don't mind a working lunch, Joe.  You and B'Elanna have to first figure out your division of power and how people need to answer to you and her." 

B'Elanna shot him a look from the dinette.  "I thought since Tom's used to working as a civilian, he'd be able to help." 

"I think we're going to need it," Carey agreed. 

"Four naps-kins!"  Alaine announced and proudly accepted her mother's hug and kiss of reward.  B'Elanna knelt on the floor and helped Alaine recount the people and napkins, then praised her again. 

"What if the captain came for lunch?"  B'Elanna asked her.  "Let's count how many napkins would we need, then." 

Carey watched the two begin counting again then finally grinned back to Tom.  "Okay, what first?" 

-

Prisoner O-5288547-b pulled herself up to her elbows when the forcefield was dropped.  Glancing up, she saw the neat, well-outfitted officer that had been announced to her enter and stop in the middle of the small space.  The prisoner did not move much more, not necessarily because of submission or defiance, but for sheer exhaustion.  The heat was terrible there.  Everything was terrible there.  Everything was terrible. 

The officer noted the other woman's pallor as she dabbed at the sweat quickly forming on her brow, looked worse for the wear.  Her shoulder-length black hair was dry and unkempt and hung over her dull face; her eyes, half closed, pointed only straight ahead as she raised herself to sit.  She remained half-slumped and her face held no expression.  Then again, there didn't seem to be any need for one. 

It was too hot in that cell, desert dry and dark.  The officer made a mental note to pose another inquiry about the prison's conditions.  This was no place for a woman like her--for any human, really. 

"My children?"  the prisoner rasped in her unused throat.  She swallowed hard to wet it.  "My husband?"  It was all she ever spoke of, and she didn't add words to her constant request on that occasion, either.  She expected the same response:  nothing. 

But the officer had another answer. 

"Your children are waiting for you," came the reply with a gentleness that made the guard behind her raise his brow a bit.  Her tone was completely changed from the one she'd used only a minute before.  Nevertheless, he went back to work, ignoring--as ordered--the conversation that was taking place.  "An inquiry was raised upon your request and you have been found innocent of the charges laid against you.  The Federation does have reparations to make on your behalf." 

The prisoner might have collapsed to the bunk in her relief, but remained upright, gasping for want to cry. 

"But first things first," the officer continued.  "Your children are on my ship and have been very well-cared for, I promise you."  Bending close, she reached down and touched the other woman's shoulder, which had begun to tremble.  "I hope you don't mind that I brought--"

"Take me to them," said the prisoner.  "Please.  I beg you.  I must see them."  Raising her eyes in supplication to the cool, clear eyes of the woman before her, she got her feet under her to sit on her knees and took the soft, manicured hand that had touched her.  "Please, I must...  My husband?" 

The other woman sighed and took a seat by her, not releasing the prisoner's cracked fingers.  "I'm sorry, but I could not have him granted an early parole." 

"But he's innocent.  I swear that.  He was only in the wrong place when..."  Her back bent as she shook her head.  "Oh, why should I ask?  If I had to spend months here for mere association, befriending the Maquis captain who saved us and our world aught to have earned him far worse." 

"I couldn't do more--right now.  I haven't given up yet.  I intend to investigate your case and others to the best of my ability, Mrs. Osol.  But it's going to take some more time." 

"What we all seem to have in ready supply," she muttered, but relented from her half-attempted fight.  "I will continue to wait for him--now with our children."  Her stare drifted out to the door, and grew wet as she drew a breath to speak again.  "Helen...Niscol.  I...I have dreamed of them every time I closed my eyes.  I thought I could touch them, but every time, I awoke with empty arms.  Empty, cold in this heat..."  Shuddering, she looked at the woman beside her once again, whose stare had widened slightly.  She felt her hand give hers a reassuring squeeze.  "I want to see them.  You say they are with you?" 

"I came to bring you to my ship and to them, yes.  We'll go to sickbay, get you checked out and a change of clothes, and then we'll bring them.  I've arranged for family quarters, and a counselor--"

"Why are you doing this?"  the prisoner suddenly demanded, stopping the officer's words.  "I don't know you.  Why would you be concerned about my family when no one else in the Federation would be so much as bothered?" 

"Honestly?"  the officer asked; the prisoner nodded.  "What brought your case to my attention was a summary report listing your formal request for an open hearing.  It mentioned that you had resided on a planet called Avalar." 

"It's my homeworld, madam, and my children's too." 

"You lived there about three, three and a half years ago, if I'm not mistaken." 

"Of course." 

The officer smiled slightly.  "It caught my eye.  Now, can you walk?  Or should I have us beamed directly to sickbay?  I can, if you're unable." 

The woman shook her head and slowly scooted her unsure feet out and to the floor.  With a few jerks of her hands, she straightened her prison uniform as best she could.  "I would rather walk away from this place," she muttered.  She turned her stare to the tall, doe-faced woman beside her.  "I owe you my life, madam," she said, distant yet entirely sincere. 

The officer only smiled, nodded then led the other woman out. 

Not two hours later, she came into her ship's sickbay with her charges and found herself impressed.  The former prisoner, treated for slight malnutrition, showered, hair brushed and wearing a simple blue dress and knee-high boots, stood speaking quietly with the CMO.  Her hand clutched the side of the biobed and her words still seemed shaky, but she looked a world better, certainly well enough for a reunion. 

Lowering herself to a knee, the officer placed both her hands on the toddlers' shoulders.  Oddly sedate, she'd thought, they were already staring at the woman across, as if wondering if she really was whom they thought.  She confirmed it for them.  "Go to your mother, now." 

Not looking back again, their faces lit up when the woman turned and they all recognized each other.  Mrs. Osol immediately burst into tears.  Crying out to her, both children rushed forward as she fell to her knees and barely opened her arms before both bundles were within them. 

For minutes, she sobbed and kissed them, thanked the gods for them and kissed them again as they squeezed her tightly.  She had no idea that when she'd begun that wretched day that it would end with her first and most fervent wish granted.  There were other desires, but she had missed and feared for her children the most, and now cried without shame to have her arms full with them again. 

Finally looking up, her tear-filled eyes found her benefactor's and she smiled in a way that hurt her cheeks for that expression's recent rareness.  "Thank you, madam," she managed through her thick throat before she gave her babies another quick inspection, running her fingers through their bushy hair, pressing them into another embrace.  "Thank you." 

The family continued as such with no more notice of outsiders, so the chief medical officer stepped around to his commanding officer.  "Looks like all that work paid off, Admiral," he smiled. 

"It's not over, Dr. Nelms," she replied, "but it's a start.  According to Counselor Brione's initial observation, Mrs. Osol's not going to recover from this easily.  There's her husband to deal with, too, and the others from their colony." 

"So we go back to Earth?" 

"Yes.  I won't be joining you that far, however.  Commander Kaplam will take you there.  I'll be on Andoria for a series of conferences before rejoining you.  Until then, the Gorkon will be undergoing some refits." 

"Chief Brosk should like that.  And the Osols?" 

"Her husband has some family living by the base at Danula-two.  It seems like the best place for now.  They have nowhere else to go." 

She sighed to herself at that, remembering Mrs. Osol's admission about Avalar being her homeworld, that simple pride, a complete certainty of where her home was.  The war was escalating; Starfleet was already huddling into its shell, planning its defenses very carefully after the internal scares they had already gotten.  That home could easily be lost forever along with a good deal of their own territory if things swung the wrong way.  The slaughters in the Demilitarized Zone were only a part of it all. 

She couldn't imagine going back to the DMZ herself, even to a planet like Avalar, which was only a half light year from the Federation border and had indeed before the treaty been well within Federation space.  Then again, she had difficulty relating to such a strong sense of home in any case.  Rather, she was a Starfleet officer whose life had not been planted since before she graduated the Academy.  The woman, kneeling, almost sitting, on that sickbay floor, still kissing and talking sweetly through her tears to her children:  She was probably as dedicated, but from a very different stock.  A Traditionalist in many ways and a born colonist, that woman's life was wrapped up in her land, in farming and crossbreeding and a strong community of like-minded, second and third generation colonists... 

Or at least it had been.  The saddest part of it all was that that woman probably could not have imagined a moment of the hell she'd endured before the incursions began four years ago.  According to the report, in but a month, she had discovered that hell in full and lost everything. 

The admiral turned an eye to the CMO.  "Advise Counselor Brione when she arrives to consult with the Osols tomorrow instead of this evening, give them some space, time to catch up.  Have her escort them today, but nothing more unless Mrs. Osol requests it.  I don't want her to feel she's being pushed.  I'll be in my ready room.  Notify me when she gets to her quarters." 

"Yes, Admiral."  Dr. Nelms followed his superior with his eyes as she strode out of the sickbay. 

He knew that the admiral was leaving to continue making inquiries over the cases she had chosen to investigate during her "down time" from the Cardassian conflict.  In fact, she had already made herself very busy with with that project, though nobody understood why her attention was so sharply turned when she had hunted the Maquis with downright determination and efficiency only a year before.  She never explained her motives or offered any reasons--as if she had to.  Admirals were like that. 

Then again, Dr. Nelms wasn't too concerned about the cause, considering the effect to which he returned his attention.  His smile grew, knowing that there would be another reunion in store for that family, if Alynna Nechayev had anything to say about it. 

-

She ran a finger under her eye.  She'd needed the makeup for the lack of sleep.  She wanted to look very good for that day.  She didn't want anybody to get any idea but what she was going to say.  She needed to do it.  She wanted to do it.  She had dreaded it, too. 

Closing the front of her tunic, B'Elanna drew a long breath and placed her insignia on her collar.  Looking at herself in her uniform, with everything in place and standing straight, she still wanted to do it.  Her quick heart still ached for that closure.  It wouldn't change anything that had happened, and likely, it would negatively affect her if they ever got back to the Alpha Quadrant, but she still knew it was necessary.  She gave a tiny nod to herself, satisfied. 

She glanced up.  Tom was almost done pinning her hair back, a braided knot worn at her nape, as always.  He had done that for her almost as often as she had worn her uniform.  He too was dressed neatly:  crisp beige shirt, black trousers.  He even got a haircut, even though he wasn't quite due for one yet. 

Done with the last pin, he placed a free hand gently on her shoulder, rubbing a little.  Then he stepped back and let his eyes roam her body, appraising her.  "I dunno, Chief, I might miss you in that uniform," he drawled.  "I always thought you were pretty damned sexy in it." 

B'Elanna laughed, glad for the diversion.  She'd expected one sooner or later.  "Well, I'll try to keep one like it tucked away next time you're looking for a thrill." 

"It is a thrill, B'Elanna," he returned as he moved around to face her, "pulling off layer by layer, getting under all that business." 

She ran her tongue across her lip, let him kiss her softly after.  "I'm sure we can work something out," she replied and took his hand in hers.  His fingers enclosed hers warmly.  She felt it so that day, when she needed to. 

They met Jenna in the living room.  The children were asleep, so she stood alone, arms crossed.  Her bright eyes turned and found them when they entered and cursorily ran up and down them both.  Then she moved up to kiss B'Elanna's cheeks.  "You look fine and proud enough, so don't be scared about it.  You know what's the right thing to do." 

"Thanks," B'Elanna said, summoning up another grin.  "No, I'm not doubting this.  I'm just...nervous." 

Jenna nodded in acknowledgment.  "Go on now.  You don't want to be late." 

Raising her brow with a breath of a laugh at that, she turned and followed Tom out the door, turning one more look back at her friend before the doors closed behind them. 

She remembered the first day she'd worn that uniform. 

She hated the turtleneck, the added weight and the heavy insignia at her throat; the boots were stiff with heels too thick and the tunic was too heavy despite Starfleet's gloried idea that they were built for optimum comfort.  They weren't her clothes and she hated them.  Donning them the first time, she was sorry she'd let Chakotay convince her she was so desperately needed. 

Tom had chosen what to do with her hair, just pulling it back and looping it.  She didn't argue though she hated that fashion, too.  He said nothing about it, only held her hand as they strolled to the turbolift.  Punching the button, he instead told her she'd teach them a thing or two about what an engineer was supposed to be. 

Well, she did give him that one. 

Once enclosed in the lift for a short time together--he was on his way to Sickbay--he leaned down and pressed his lips to hers, drawing her close, between himself and the wall.  When he pulled away, he rubbed his nose against hers and smiled.  She knew exactly what it meant, and for a moment she almost forgot why she'd been nervous.  Meeting Chakotay just outside engineering, she'd almost forgotten about hating the uniform, too. 

Since that day, their quarters had changed, their family had grown and their outlook had shifted to one far more positive, but the corridor passed her eyes in the same unreal fashion. 

She hated change, even if it was for the better. 

B'Elanna kept her hand in Tom's as they walked into the turbolift; there, she moved easily into his arms to accept his kiss.  She'd expected it, and yet she still almost forgot where they were going and what she was doing there that day, even when he pulled back a little and gave her that nuzzle and smile she knew so well. 

He knew.  He was there.  It was going to be okay. 

And she would never have to wear those damned boots ever again. 

The lift door opened. 

When they came into the briefing room, they found the senior staff already assembled and gave them a glance or grin, their usual greeting.  At her seat near the viewport, Janeway was reviewing some PADDs and did not look up.  B'Elanna didn't try to catch her attention, either.  Their hour long conversation in her ready room had been more than enough to say all that needed to be said.  Kathryn had been generous and B'Elanna had tried not to sound bitter.  Both women were as disappointed as understanding. 

"If everybody would like to have a seat," the captain said as she set aside the data that had proved to be an unsuccessful distraction.  When all but the Parises had moved into their usual places, she continued, "As you know, this meeting was called for purposes other than ordinary ship's business.  But I didn't request it."  Her officers looked around at each other when she paused.  Janeway was surprised that the rumor mill hadn't gotten loose, for they seemed indeed to be out of the loop.  The Maquis crew must be tighter than I thought they would be after these few years, she remarked to herself, but put it aside for the moment to say what she hadn't wanted to say:  "Lieutenant Paris has an announcement to make." 

B'Elanna didn't mind the formality.  It seemed appropriate, considering.  She had chosen that semi-public decommission so that the others would understand, certainly not to be casual. 

As she left Tom at the back wall and stepped forward, she took in the faces of her friends, of Chakotay and Harry, Tuvok and the Doctor.  Even Neelix and Seven were there.  They all looked to her then.  "Thank you, Kathryn," she said quietly, punctuating the difference before she'd even made it official. 

Taking a deep breath, she made her case, stating with unusual eloquence the issues that had come upon her.  As she related her resulting feelings, she watched their faces fall, contort or simply turn a stare.  The captain had been as discreet as her old friends had been.  They all had put the news about the DMZ and the Maquis behind them and hadn't been aware of any lasting issues on Voyager--all but Chakotay. 

To no great surprise on her part, he seemed to take it with his usual stoicism.  He had known from the start that she was considering it, of course, but asked her repeatedly to reconsider, even after she had talked to Carey.  He had embraced Starfleet again far more than she ever had; she was glad he had found peace with it again after his long, difficult time in the Maquis.  He had been so vindicated to see her set up as Chief Engineer--he'd fought long and hard on her behalf, as much as Tom had worked on the Starfleet crew for her sake, as much as she had worked to become comfortable with her staff and her duties once she had been promoted.  She took it on and excelled, making up for that bitter time years before--vindicating her failure in that system, which she'd likewise given up on for lack of both maturity and commitment.  Her former captain couldn't have been prouder for her. 

As B'Elanna finally announced her resignation, Chakotay sighed with an ironic grin. 

She then stated her plans for the future, reassuring her audience it was but for her conscience that she was making that choice.  She asserted that Joe Carey would be more than capable in continuing her usual work.  Though they agreed aloud, she could tell they'd have preferred she stay.  It warmed her, but did little else. 

"There's nothing we can say to change your mind?"  Harry asked, looking to Chakotay, whose head was slightly bent. 

B'Elanna shook her head, her lips turning up a bit at his attempt, so very much like him.  "I'm sorry, Harry, but I've decided.  I need to do this to feel right with myself." 

"Because of Avalar," Chakotay said softly. 

"Because of Avalar," B'Elanna confirmed, "because of Rodrigo and Atara, all our friends and neighbors--because of it all."  Finally, her old friend's eyes rose to meet hers and she held his stare without blinking.  "We've lost everything, Chakotay.  I can't walk away from that unaffected." 

"But that's not Starfleet's fault," Harry told her. 

"Not directly," she agreed.  "But after hearing what they did and didn't do, I had to decide what I believed in."  She moved a few steps toward him, placed her hand on his shoulder so he'd look up to her.  "Harry, I'm a Maquis.  It's a part of me, just like it's a part of Tom.  We never gave up what we stood for, what brought us to that fight; we still believe in what we'd been defending and the life we were trying to make before ending up out here.  I became an officer on Voyager because it was a something I'd left unfinished and something that I needed to explore--but mainly because I was needed at the time.  I didn't fight for the position, but I did take it and was glad I did, and I did it while managing a family and..."  She winked at Tom, "...a pain in the ass husband." 

Her smile grew when Harry laughed a little, glad she could at least lighten it a little.  It didn't last long after the sound died away, so she continued, "I might have kept doing that here if I hadn't been reminded what was left behind us, how much of a Maquis I still was--even how much of a colonist I'd become.  It's not like I'm encouraging mutiny, here, but you should have known all along that I'm not career Starfleet.  I had provisional rank and never forgot that." 

"You were more than a provisional officer, Lieutenant Paris," stated Tuvok. 

B'Elanna gave him a nod.  "Thank you, Tuvok.  That's quite a compliment.  But that's not how I saw it." 

Turning, she looked at her captain again.  "I'm sorry, Kathryn." 

Janeway grinned weakly.  "Your usual presence will be missed, B'Elanna," she told her.  "I still need you; all of Voyager does.  But if this is what you feel you need to do, and if none of us can convince you otherwise, I can only accept your request and support your decision." 

"You say that as if I hadn't tried to convince myself," B'Elanna quietly returned.  She looked at her older friend.  "Chakotay, I hope you understand.  I want you to." 

Her former captain offered a grin she knew all too well, one of pained acceptance of things he had no control over. 

"I guess I shouldn't have expected you to go back on your mindset," he admitted. 

"Another thing that hasn't changed, I guess," B'Elanna grinned, though her eyes still searched him.  Of all her friends, she wanted his approval most, and she might have regretted in hindsight not telling him everything before the meeting.  She was comforted when he blinked and a tiny smile twitched on his mouth. 

Chakotay looked at Tom then, who hadn't moved from the back of the room.  It was where he usually stood, arms crossed as always, watching everything closely, silent and seemingly amused.  Chakotay knew he wasn't.  "And you?" 

Tom shrugged.  "I don't have anything to do with it, aside from asking her if she was sure.  This is what B'Elanna wants.  I support her.  That's it." 

B'Elanna suppressed a snort.  He could make things sound so simple, and even when everyone knew he was understating everything, he could sell them his view in five words or less. 

"Very well, then," Janeway said, quiet but anxious to move the meeting forward.  Looking across the table, she regained the engineer's attention.  "Lieutenant Paris, I hereby accept your resignation.  Your record will be updated, and I will include a letter of gratitude for your service aboard my ship." 

"Thank you, Captain."  Carefully detaching her insignia from her collar, she walked around the briefing room table to place it beside the other woman's work.  Janeway didn't move at first, but finally, silently, tapped the record into her PADD.  When their eyes met again, B'Elanna's returning expression was a gentle one.  She let out her breath when the captain finally relented with a little grin. 

Kathryn handed her the PADD.  B'Elanna pressed her thumb to it.  It beeped. 

B'Elanna felt her relief instantly.  It was finally done. 

The meeting was adjourned.  She was no longer an officer. 

She looked at everyone in turn, but thought better than to invite them to dinner or even to meet them in the messhall, though she knew a night over a meal and some wine with talk and friendship would be needed eventually.  They had not even moved from their seats--would probably sit and discuss her replacement, probably call Joe to the briefing room, question him about what she'd already discussed with him and try to integrate him into the senior staff as quickly as possible. 

So, she said nothing.  Excusing herself, returned to Tom and walked with him to the lift, where her kept his arm around her as they descended.  Through the corridor, they walked hand in hand.  His hand moved to rest upon the curve of her back when they got to their quarters, and he gave her waist a little squeeze when he pressed the door panel. 

The doors opened, and she immediately heard Kiarn crying in the other room and Jenna soothing him.  As Tom moved through to see what the matter was, B'Elanna opened and pulled off her tunic for what she knew would be the last time.  Hearing Jenna explain to Tom that the baby had just been fed, however, she did not go immediately.  Tom would bring Kiarn to her.  For the moment, she knelt when Alaine abandoned her breakfast to jump into her waiting arms. 

-

47972:  3.6 years ago

Tom Paris grinned at the young, dark-haired man at his side.  Fresh off the farm--an artists' colony at Jaros-three--the kid with two first names definitely had some flying sense, though not much more about what he was doing at that moment:  whistling when his eyes drifted across the deck and pinned on the woman who had entered. 

That gesture alone made Tom's eyes gleam, his mouth curl precariously to the side.  For that opportunity alone, he was glad Chakotay had found the kid. 

"Like that?"  he asked as he wedged another clip into the new circuit assembly they were planning to install. 

"I think I could," the other man affirmed, sealing off a nodule in the new frame.  "My brother used to call that spicy."

Tom didn't bother to tell the younger man what he called it.  But he did share the view, a vision in leather and an earthy red vest; silken, sable curls just brushing her shoulders.  Bending over a console, she stated the antimatter conversion levels with a heavy bite of dissatisfaction with the systems and the people she was talking to.  It was nothing new to Tom, but nothing he'd ever tire of either.  Glancing back at the new guy's appreciation of the lady's changed position, he licked a lip.  "Quite a package, isn't she?" 

"Mm, yeah," said the younger man.  "Tightly wrapped with ribbons and bows.  Knows her business, too." 

"She's a hot little cookie," Tom added, "--or tamale, if your spice adds up right." 

He laughed.  "Tamale!"  But there, the recruit backed off, shrugging.  "Really though, I shouldn't be talking about a lady I don't know like that.  No insult, but it's no fair to her."  He turned a little smile to his new friend.  "You know her well?" 

Tom opened his mouth, but closed it.  Damn, this kid's too nice.  Way too nice.  That must have been some farm. Though spoiled of his joke, he did perk with a last-minute save as he remembered the question.  "Only in the conjugal sense." 

"Huh?" 

"I'm married to her."  Tom laughed as the recruit's face immediately flushed to a fine shade of crimson.  Well, that reaction was just as much fun. "Don't worry about me.  I know damn well she's worth staring at.  I've done enough of it, myself.  --Just don't do anything about it.  She'd kill you, and we need all the pilots we can get." 

Rodrigo grinned sheepishly.  "Thanks a lot." 

Chuckling, Tom looked caught his wife's attention with a wave of his hand.  "Got a minute, B'Elanna?"  he called.  "Come meet Chakotay's new pigeon." 

She turned and looked at the young guy working at her husband's side.  She'd seen him before, heard all about him from Tom and the others.  Then again, she hadn't yet seen him looking like that--blushing with his eyes everywhere but on her.  Instantly she knew Tom had been up to something, and brushes her hands on her vest to approach the pilots.  "Your new victim, you mean?" 

"Something like that," Tom replied and stood when she came close to take her hand and introduce her.  "B'Elanna Torres, Andre Rodrigo." 

B'Elanna greeted the young man with a grin, still wondering what Tom had done to embarrass the man so thoroughly.  He wouldn't even squeeze her hand when she shook it.  "Don't worry about my husband," she told him.  "He's the best around, but he's a devil sometimes.  Don't let him get you in trouble." 

Rodrigo laughed and gave his head a slight bow.  "Gracias, señora.  You're husband's actually a most deserving man, and so you must be, too, to have earned his feelings.  He's been great, teaching me more than I thought I would learn.  I didn't expect to feel as welcome, coming to this ship, but I do." 

B'Elanna straightened, blinking with surprise at the recruit's manners.  She caught Tom's shrug when she glanced over.  "Well, thanks.  We're glad you're here." 

Suddenly--and likely to all three's relief--the COMM opened above them.  "Paris and Torres, I need you on the bridge," came Chakotay's quick yet casual command. 

"Why don't you finish that grid," Tom told his apprentice as he took B'Elanna's hand.  "I'll be back down later.  Henley can help you on the rest of that grid."  He pointed.  "Right over there." 

"No problem," Rodrigo grinned and waved them off.  Going back to his work, he nodded to himself, reminded of how glad he was to have accepted Chakotay's offer.  His superior, Paris, had been an excellent instructor despite the fun he'd just had, and most of the people he had met so far really believed in what they were doing and treated each other, if not like close comrades, like family.  Not all, but enough did to impress the young man who'd expected much worse conditions. 

Then his eyes drifted aside and found a svelte, flaxen-haired Bajoran.  Better and better, my luck, he thought, then smiled and bowed.  "Señorita." 

"Atara," she corrected, then tipped her head the other way, raised her brow at the darkly handsome man, his big, brown eyes and softly chiseled features..., his lean, muscled body and long, slender hands...  "Atara Maiel." 

Rodrigo straightened himself, boasting a broad, white smile. 

Even as they left the deck, B'Elanna had to look back.  "Right off the farm, hmm?"  she said with a smirk.  "I'd have never known it.  We're probably going to have to warn him about Chakotay's policies, though." 

Tom lips pulled up.  "Yeah, like we're just the example for him to follow.  And you know, I'm going to start getting jealous if he keeps charming you like that." 

"Oh right.  Tom, he looked like he was going to have an accident when I said no more than hello." 

"But that's their tactic," Tom returned, "make them think they're not interested, pure as snow, all that, and then move in for the kill.  Got to watch out for suave rogues like that.  You know, while you weren't looking, he said you were spicy." 

She laughed aloud.  "And I'll bet you led him right into it." 

"Not at all, Miss Torres," he replied, his eyes gleaming.  "He went there all by himself.  That said, I might have agreed wholeheartedly about your assets."  He sighed for effect.  "When any random guy can liken you to table condiments, I don't know if I can take the competition--"

B'Elanna gave his ribs a sharp squeeze, making Tom yelp.  "You're not getting away from me that easily, Tom Paris.  You're marked and chained, remember?" 

Tom put his arm around her shoulder as they stepped into the lift.  "You bet I am." 

-

51919:  Almost four years later

"We're crazy, you know." 

"Maybe that's why we're married," he returned. 

"Yes, that must be it." 

He hugged her warmly when she leaned back into his arms.  "So," he whispered into her ear, "whose turn is it?" 

"Mine, I guess," B'Elanna answered, grinning deep within herself. 

We really are insane, she told herself again.  Without question, they already had a family--more than enough by normal starship standards.  So certainly, they were shocked when they noticed her usual physiological reaction to the first weeks of pregnancy.  She couldn't figure out why she felt so happy for their putting even more responsibility in their lives and on that ship, lost in the Delta Quadrant and in regular danger, when it'd already been turned upside down by her own hand only a few months ago. 

We were asking for a jolt, all right, she thought.  Her smile turned bittersweet at it. 

"I want to name it for one of our friends this time, Tom..."  Her smile faded a little there.  "I think about them all the time, and I kick myself sometimes for not remembering them more often." 

Tom nodded.  "I guess we'd been given a pretty damn good reason to remember."  Despite his sober statement, he suddenly chuckled, burying it in her shoulder to soften the sound lest they wake Kiarn behind them.  B'Elanna nudged him.  "You just got me to thinking about those kickball games," he said. 

B'Elanna snickered.  "You would remember!  As if we hadn't had enough battles..."  There, she shook her head.  "How can we even laugh about that after everything that's happened?" 

Tom sighed through the remnants of his smile, resigned to the knowledge already.  "Because we can." 

"I guess so."  Their eyes went to the picture wall again and found one among their collection, one once kept on the Marseilles.  Their smiles slowly returned. 

"Mommy, Daddy?" 

Both parents looked over to find a sleepy girl in their doorway, rubbing her eye as she drug back a long lock of dark hair from her round face.  B'Elanna, all but forgotten of the memory in that glance, reached out to her.  "Come over here.  Daddy and I want to show you something we put on the wall today, and we have some news." 

Tom bent a little to help his girl up onto the bed where he and B'Elanna were sitting.  "Remember when Mommy's belly was really big?"  he asked her. 

"Yes," Alaine said and looked at her mother with a clever smile.  "You looked like Pooka bear." 

B'Elanna rolled her eyes before meeting her daughter's again.  "Well, I'm going to look like one again, sweetheart.  Mommy's having another baby." 

"Anoter baby broter?"  Alaine chimed, her big blue eyes lighting up at the thought. 

"Maybe," Tom told her.  "Maybe a little sister.  We'll have to see." 

Alaine gave her parents a look--one look Tom correctly attributed to his wife's genetics--and sighed dramatically.  "Ak Denna, Daddy." 

They laughed again.  "Guess it's time for that dinner," B'Elanna grinned.

-

"Aft, Rodrigo!  I said aft inversion!" 

"I am inverting!" 

"Yeah, and you're going forward!"  Tom laughed despite the obvious danger his scout was in at the hands of his student.  Redirecting helm control to the rear station, he straightened them out of their spin and set the Marseilles on a course back to the Liberty.  "We'll try it again when we have the time," he told the younger man, "and on a ship a little less charged up.  This one's too easy to flip, so to speak." 

Rodrigo switched seats again without protest when the captain of the scout came forward to claim the helm.  He knew Tom decently enough by then to know he wasn't being insulted. 

"I do want to learn that maneuver, though," he said.  "I've seen you do it.  It's a great move that really rocks the Cardassian sensors." 

"Instinct and practice," Tom told him.  "You've got the first.  We just need the time to get the rest in a ship that's not so customized to its owners." 

"I guess I am flying your house, aren't I?" 

"Were," Tom corrected with a grin as he ran a sensor sweep.  "You were flying my house...  Ah, there they are.  I was wondering where they'd decided to hole up." 

Within another hour and some passing repartee between "captains, one outranking," the Marseilles set down in its usual spot in the belly of the Liberty.  After he set the controls to stand-by and opened the back hatch for the others to unload the supplies they'd picked up, Tom grabbed his gear and followed his pupil out and up to the bridge. 

Chakotay was already reviewing the lists when they got there.  "Tom, I don't know how you do it," was the first thing out of his mouth. 

The pilot grinned.  "One post and three raids," he said with a shrug.  He playfully grabbed the back of Rodrigo's neck and wrung it a little, "And one puppy barely housetrained." 

Rodrigo laughed.  "Give me a break, Tom.  That ship of yours is difficult." 

"You're doing fine," Tom told him then looked to his captain.  "Definitely let him tell you about his first inversion--then tell me what he said, okay?  Where's B'Elanna?" 

"I just let her off.  She'll like getting those magnetic seals and constrictors, but grab a break first.  She's been at it all day and so have you.  I'll need you both by nineteen hundred to use what they unpack down there." 

Tom nodded.  "See you two later, then." 

Before the pilot turned, Chakotay motioned to his hand.  "Nice," he commented. 

It took Tom a moment to realize what his friend meant, but smiled when he understood.  "I thought so." 

Through the slightly dark and regularly dingy corridors of the Liberty, Tom made good speed to the quarters he and B'Elanna shared, only a deck and a short walk from the bridge.  He said hellos to the few he passed before noticing a familiar form turn the corner before him.  "B'Elanna," he called. 

She glanced back around and smiled as her husband came to her.  "Hello, there," she said, kissing him as soon as was within range.  "Have a good run?" 

"Lots of goodies," Tom answered and took her hand to continue with her.  "They're still unpacking, so we're ordered to have a break."  He brought his other hand around.  "Got you something." 

She looked down and sighed, smiling at the white Grinaraan tulips he'd brought, complete with a sustaining vase of Nixian coral.  "They're beautiful, Tom," she said, taking them.  "You really know how to charm a girl, don't you?" 

"And I'm glad she likes it," he returned as they turned into their quarters. 

She walked ahead to wash her face and hands first, placing the flowers on the bucket shelf beside the bunk on her way.  "Too bad I don't have the time to tell you how much I like them," she teased. 

"We'll have time soon enough," he said.  Opening the bag on his other arm, he went to the bedside table and started pulling out PADDs.  "Got you something else." 

She turned from the wall basin and furrowed her brow.  "What are those?" 

"Books," he replied.  "While I was borrowing some plasma from a passing ship, I picked these up, too.  Pretty much by accident, really, but I thought you'd like them.  They're Earth collections from the Federation database.  A few classics, some poetry, this and that." 

B'Elanna was surprised.  They didn't have time to sit around and read.  She'd never even picked up a PADD that didn't have ship specs on it since well before she'd met Tom.  Apparently, he recalled her telling him how she'd once enjoyed literature. 

Trading places to let him into the bathroom, she sat and pulled her hair loose.  At the same time, she toed off her boots part of the way and peered over at the pile of PADDs.  There must have been forty of them.  "How in the world did you think to pick up books while grabbing parts?"  she thought aloud.  "Sometimes I wonder about you." 

"Only sometimes?" 

"I'll never have time to read all of this." 

"Then we'll read in bed," he returned.  Tom had already washed up and removed his coat; he took off his vest and loosened his shirt.  Then he took off his boots and socks, but went no further than that.  The Liberty being in an insecure area, it was not the best idea to undress too much.  He instead sat on their little bunk and dunked his fingers into her hair, loosening her curls for her so she could pull off her boots the rest of the way.  "I'd like to hear some of it," he added softly. 

Her lips turned up.  "You want me to read you bedtime stories? 

Tom kissed her neck.  "I like your voice, B'Elanna.  I'd love to hear you read something besides a diagnostic--though that's pretty exciting, too." 

"Fine," she said, softened by both his compliment and the feeling of him near her again.  She hated admitting how much she missed him when he was gone, but couldn't help but be reminded when they were reunited.  "Pick one." 

"Which one?" 

"Any of them," she said and peered back at him.  "I think I can manage to read whichever one you give me." 

"Smartass," he grinned and turned to pluck up one from the pile. 

Her boots removed, she slipped her vest off her arms and pulled the hem of her blouse from her trousers.  Tom was already waiting, leaning on the pillow against the wall.  She scooted back into his open arm.  Cuddling together, getting themselves comfortable, he hit a random index on the small PADD and picked a number from the selection before handing it to her. 

Taking it, her brow twitched when she read the header.  She didn't know that one.  Glancing over, she saw him nod, so she rested her head against him and took a breath.  As he twirled her hair in his fingers, she began to read: 

"In my beginning is my end.  In succession, houses rise and fall, crumble, are extended, are removed, destroyed, restored, or in their place is an open field, or a factory, or a by-pass.  Old stone to new building, old timber to new fires, old fires to ashes, and ashes to the earth, which is already flesh, fur and faces, bone of man and beast, cornstalk and leaf.  Houses live and die:  there is a time for building and a time for living and for generation, and a time for the wind to break the loosened pane and to shake the wainscot where the field-mouse trots, and to shake the tattered arras woven with a silent motto. 

"In my beginning is my end.  Now the light falls across the open field, leaving the deep lane shuttered with branches, dark in the afternoon, where you lean against a bank while a van passes, and the deep lane insists on the direction into the village, in the electric heat, hypnotized.  In a warm haze the sultry light is absorbed, not refracted, by gray stone.  The dahlias sleep in the empty silence.  Wait for the early owl.  In my beginning is my end." 

She paused, and Tom rubbed his chin against her hair.  "Keep going," he whispered. 

-

"Keeping things lively?!"  Jenna snorted, getting out of her seat to kiss them both.  "That's not liveliness, that's loveable madness!" 

B'Elanna leaned over into Tom's arm, rather proud of herself as they both accepted the good wishes of her friends as well, which circled around the candlelit sitting area.  Another nice dinner and great timing with getting the children to bed had made their announcement a pleasant one, that with a comfortable night among a collection of their friends, just the way she liked it.  The big, public announcement would come in a few days--but that was Neelix's party. 

Plopping back into her chair, Jenna grabbed her wine and downed the remainder.  "I'm going to need to get some real vino on this ship, they keep up at this pace," she grinned aside to the captain. 

"Good excuse," Kathryn returned wryly. 

"Feel free to use it any time you like.  --Harry, be a gentleman and get our lovely Kathryn drunker." 

"I'm not drunk.  I've only had...two glasses." 

"Says you," Jenna returned.  "Loosen up, Aunt Kat, you've had a hell of a week with those loonies running around after you.  You're not on parade here amongst the unwashed." 

Kathryn held out her goblet.  "Now that you put it like that.  --Ensign?  If you will?" 

As he refilled his captain's glass, Harry grinned still, shaking his head at the news.  "You said she was pregnant, Jenna, and I didn't believe you.  What do I owe you?" 

"How about you serve me, too?"  Jenna winked and held out her glass for him to fill as well. 

Returning her attention to her hosts, Janeway's face melted into a thoughtful smile.  "You two never cease to amaze me.  --Though I sometimes think you're in it just to keep me knitting." 

Tom chuckled.  "Well, that'll give you something to do on the bridge:  If someone countermands you, you can practice your archery, instead." 

Chakotay laughed at the image that brought to mind.  "I don't think that'd be too good for morale, Tom."  Leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, he looked at B'Elanna.  "When you said you'd have time for more work outside engineering, you weren't kidding," he said. 

She rolled her eyes.  "I try to put myself to good use when I'm not rebuilding shuttles." 

"So, Jenna," Carey asked, looking at the wise-eyed nurse, "is it a boy or a girl?" 

"Ah, best I keep that one to the betting pool," she replied. 

Chakotay grinned.  "It's only a fifty-fifty guess--it won't spoil anything." 

"Except in that she hasn't missed yet," Janeway muttered over her glass before sipping. 

Jenna eyed the parents again, her small mouth curling into a grin.  "Do you really want to know?  You know I'll say what I think." 

"I never seem to be surprised in the end," B'Elanna told her, "and you know Tom won't wait and see." 

Jenna straightened, peered B'Elanna over again, glanced at Tom, then back to the first, drew a breath.  "It's another boy," she told them, her smile growing wide as a laugh overtook her voice.  "And I'm betting for a big one, mmm...five kilo!" 

B'Elanna coughed with indignation.  "Don't you dare wish that into existence!" 

"La!  Your fault for making yourself irresistible.  And what were you up to, Thomas--thinking, I mean--knocking up the poor girl so soon after?  --Not that I'm any less a population addict, but I've got to ask it." 

Tom grinned.  "We told Alaine the tooth fairy put it there--"

"And she didn't believe you for an instant," B'Elanna rejoined. 

Jenna snorted.  "Though I'm certain teeth were involved." 

B'Elanna didn't dare confirm that, and was still staring at Jenna askance for the weight prediction.  There's no way she could actually tell, she reminded herself firmly.  "Let's just say it's a pleasant surprise." 

"Agreed," Janeway said, still smiling at the couple.  Perhaps Jenna had gotten her a little drunk after all, or maybe it was just the meal settling in.  Either way, Kathryn couldn't help but feel a little sentimental as she looked at them, so relaxed and at home, welcoming as always in their family quarters. 

She had never thought about how Tom and B'Elanna had ended up as such good friends to her.  Certainly, they were the least likely people she thought she could ever be close to.  As a fellow captain, Chakotay had a far better chance, even as a Maquis.  But despite their difficult beginning on Voyager, the Parises had somehow become great confidantes and her greatest source of respite when that ship's revised mission felt like it might crush her.  In the worse times, their company had most recently become a great refuge to her. 

On that thought, she said, "Look at us, together like this where when we met we'd so easily despised each other.  I couldn't be more grateful for that change....  How proud your families would be if they could see you as I do." 

"Here, here," Harry said as he filled his own glass, then the Carey's again.  "How about a toast, then?" 

"Allow me," Chakotay said, raising his glass.  "To Tom, B'Elanna, the kids--and to us all; to family, friendship and home.  May we all enjoy them all however quickly they want to come at us." 

B'Elanna clicked her glass around, then against Tom's glass as he kissed her softly.  Leaning into his arm again, she regarded Chakotay, who looked at them much as he had years before, when he married her and Tom.  Rush or no rush, he'd been a proud friend.  He was on that night, too. 

"That was very nice, Chakotay.  Thank you." 

An hour later, the others had gone while Janeway, indeed a little affected by the wine, had been distracted by a book Tom soon pressed in her hand and told her to take.  When he went to check on the children, she wandered into the bedroom as B'Elanna came out from the bathroom, stifling a yawn.  "I wanted to thank you for dinner, B'Elanna.  It was lovely." 

She smiled.  "Thank you--and you're welcome--Kathryn.  While you're here, has Tuvok changed the briefing time again or are we still on for ten-hundred?" 

"It's ten hundred, unless we have another interruption.  But we're coming up on a rather empty region of space.  I think we might get a break for a change." 

B'Elanna grinned.  "Well, now that you've said that, you know we're in for it." 

The captain laughed at that, let her eyes roam around in the silence that followed.  Coming around to the picture wall, her smile grew odd, her eyes focused on the center portrait. 

"What is it, Kathryn?"  B'Elanna asked.  Her captain didn't often stare at the wall. 

"Just wondering...," she said quietly, and she seemed to think about more than she voiced, even as she asked, "Did you and Tom plan to have a large family?  You're such good parents, but I have to admit, I'm curious how you'll handle it here with a third." 

"Well, we hadn't really planned anything in the beginning," B'Elanna admitted.  "We were so busy, going back and forth from Avalar to the Liberty, I think we were the most shocked to find out about Alaine."  She laughed quietly.  "With my being half-Klingon, we honestly thought it'd be more difficult to conceive.  But then she was there and like everything else between us, it was just that next thing to happen with us." 

She paused, looking up at the same picture Kathryn spied.  "But once we figured out that we were doing pretty well with Alaine, Tom and I decided to try for another.  We talked about it then, and since we were considering how long it'd take us to get home, we decided we wanted more children.  So, we worked on getting Kiarn.  But again, Tom and I don't usually plan things too far ahead." 

"Yes, you do tend to play things by ear," Kathryn nodded.  "But practically speaking, I thought in the beginning that it might not be such a good thing to bring children into our situation--though we may well need them someday." 

"That's a possibility," B'Elanna nodded.  "But for us right now, Alaine and Kiarn, and this one, they're all we have left of a home.  In spite of go through and what that puts us through, we're not sorry to have our children on this ship." 

Kathryn sighed.  "I hope someday they have more, though." 

"So do I.  Of course, we all hope we get home.  I think about it a lot sometimes, when I see how much Voyager is all they know."  B'Elanna motioned to one of the old pictures of her and Tom.  "About a year ago, I remember Tom and I had been talking about things we would wish for if we could wish."  She smiled.  "We agreed on a lot of things, but there was one that I never really forgot." 

"What was that?" 

"That we'd love nothing more than to see our children running around on Avalar someday, and maybe even our grandchildren, and to grow old there." 

Seeing Tom step in the door, she smiled wistfully at him.  "You remember that, Tom?" 

"Wanting to see the kids back home for real and not the holodeck?  Yeah."  He touched her hand and felt her fingers wrap around his.  "But you know, as it is, we'd already have to put an addition onto the house." 

"Well, as long as it doesn't block the view from the kitchen--"

"I'd never interfere with your kitchen view, Miss Torres," he drawled, chuckling at the mere idea. 

"You'd better not," she said with smirk.  "So we could put an 'L' addition onto the bedroom." 

"But how will the kids get there besides through our space?"  Tom queried.  "Be a shame to block off that back view." 

"How about an atrium hall--all windows with a roof adjoining to the new rooms?  It'd fit right around the rocks.  And we could put a court in the middle, maybe?" 

"Or maybe a second floor, above the bedroom?"  he ventured. 

She thought quickly, pictured it immediately--the roof pitch of a second floor would meet the main section of the house; they could easily make two bedrooms and a hall; a staircase could attractively descend on the back wall over the kitchen door....  "That'd work much better," she decided.  "We should write that one down." 

Kathryn laughed.  "You two are too much!  Maybe you should wait to get there before making additions!" 

B'Elanna smiled at her.  "There's nothing wrong with a little preparation, Kathryn." 

"Or preventing trouble before it happens," Tom added slyly. 

-

47995:  3.5 years ago

They spoke cheerfully, answering K'Karn's questions about human wedding even as their pulses sped and their eyes grew bright, hard on the scout ship they neared.  They had been Maquis long enough that the adrenaline buildup was a second nature; they barely noticed their quickened pace, their straightened postures and hardened facades. 

Once out of earshot of the park, they dropped the topic as quickly as they'd picked it up, shooting a glance to the Klingon behind them. 

"Tell us what else you know, K'Karn," Tom said, ushering B'Elanna ahead.  "We need to know everything you can tell us about the Cardassian plan if we're to do any good." 

K'Karn did not doubt the man's intent, and had to admire their show of readiness.  So, he related what little he had heard about the expected incursions into the Avalar and Tennethi systems as he followed them to their ship.  Jumping up into the belly of the Marseilles, all three raced up to the bridge without slowing. 

Watching them as they threw themselves into their respective seats and their work, K'Karn mentally calculated the distance they would have to fly--and through what defenses the Cardassians would likely bear.  Whatever pride and love for battle he had was curtailed by his equal instinct for stealth and surprise.  When he mentioned it, he was surprised to find his cousins relatively unconcerned with that. 

"A poorly executed mission will bring you no honor," he stated.  "It would be the errand of a fool to attack them without more sizable offenses.  You would be better to regroup and attack from--"

"Spare me, K'Karn!"  B'Elanna snapped as she whirled the Marseilles' systems on line.  "And the House of Torg says I'm too human!  Listen to you!"  Glaring back at him, she knew she'd insulted him:  A scowl had already crossed his face.  For a second, she was almost sorry for it, too.  Almost.  "There are people out there being burned alive--without honor, unarmed civilians and children.  You might know the plans, but Tom and I have seen the damage.  We've seen the results of their work.  We're not even going to get there in time--whether or not the Taecen cell's able to fight back enough--but we have to at least be there for the survivors, who won't last long without assistance." 

Tom was already plotting their course.  "B'Elanna's right.  We've got to go--now."  He looked over at his wife, said more quietly, "I've got us clearance in five minutes." 

"That's fine," she replied, fingers still flying over her console.  "Sorry, K'Karn, if we seem like crazed mok'las right now.  But this is our life; we've been doing this for a while." 

"It is your heart you must answer," K'Karn approved.  "Certainly, I will not stop you, only advise you to think through your plan.  Never underestimate your enemy." 

"We'd be dead now if we ever had," she replied. 

As she continued her work without another word, K'Karn indeed found himself pleased.  They were almost a week from Avalar, considering the route they needed to fly, and would likely arrive after all was done, missing any chance at battle.  Yet they would go, hot with indignation and pride.  They would at least try to protect what was left. 

They go for more than battle, but to honor those who will die, he nodded to himself as they continued to talk to each other in preparation.  They may be young and perhaps unwise, but Miral must hear of these two.  She must know B'Elanna now.

"I'll send out an encrypted subspace message to the Liberty," Tom continued, "once we're clear of these Starfleet subspace relays." 

"How long will it take?" 

"On that frequency, two hours.  --And they're with Captain Renalok." 

B'Elanna growled.  She'd always thought Renalok was an overcomplicated windbag.  "It'll have to do," she said.  "We don't have much other choice." 

Tom nodded, consciously willing his clenched teeth apart.  He could see Mila Morgan in his mind--a gentle looking woman with long blonde hair and a face like a lamb, out on the back hill of her farm, collecting wildflowers she dried and wove into wreaths...running, screaming as her skin was scorched, her hair catching flame... 

He shook his head stiffly, grinding his teeth and punching in a few more commands. 

Pushing that thought away, he remembered that their cousin was still in the back of their bridge.  Turning, Tom saw the Klingon standing with one hand relaxed on the handle of his mek'leth and surveying B'Elanna anew.  Tom wished they had more time--for everything. 

"K'Karn," he said, earning the man's attention, "it was great to meet you, but unless you want to join us, I think it's time to say our goodbyes until next time." 

"You will fight well, Tom," K'Karn responded, then returned his attention to his little cousin.  "B'Elanna." 

Unwillingly, she stopped her work to look back at him.  "Yes?" 

K'Karn put his hand on her shoulder and stared down at her.  "I will speak to Miral.  She will know of you and your mate, and she will hear proud words from me.  She will not doubt your honor, cousin." 

B'Elanna's hands relaxed on her console as she took in the full meaning of the compliment.  "Thank you," she said. 

"Have you a message for her?" 

She tried to think of something he could easily carry, but just as quickly shook her head, let out her breath.  "Tell her I think of her," she said.  She had a feeling her mother would understand. 

With another sharp nod before removing himself to the side hatch, K'Karn regarded them both.  His stare purposefully burned into them both as he said, "Qapla', cousins."

-

54902:  Almost seven years later

"Oh God, that's it.  That's it.  That's the last one....  Oh, B'Elanna." 

"You did it again, love.  Who says the fourth time's not the charm!" 

"Damn right it is.  God, B'Elanna, look what you've done!" 

B'Elanna threw her head back onto the pillow, finally, willfully, releasing her convulsive grip on Jenna's rough hands.  "Well?"  she gasped, caught another couple of breaths.  Without realizing it, tears fell down her face, even as a flickering smile began to match her husband's.  "Tom, is she...?" 

He was smiling and nodding as he cut and sealed the umbilical cord.  Glancing at the Doctor, who readily replaced him at that, Tom stepped around and lifted the tiny form up from his wife's trembling knee. 

"She's perfect, B'Elanna," he finally said, blinking at the mist in his eyes.  As the Doctor finished Tom's work, Tom placed their squirming, gasping daughter on her still swollen belly and took a cloth from Jenna to begin cleaning her. 

"Oh God, she is," B'Elanna breathed, reaching out to touch her newborn child, her other hand instinctively reaching up to take Tom's, which supported the baby.  "And she just might have blonde hair, Tom." 

He grinned.  B'Elanna had mentioned that one.  And true enough, the fluff on the tiny girl's head was certainly lighter than their other children's had been at birth.  "Looks like it." 

Taking another step toward the Doctor, who gave her a rare appreciative grin when he glanced up from his work, Jenna watched the two adore their newest child.  It wasn't anything new to her, aside from the child itself.  Yet looking at them there, knowing that in the morning, she'd bring their other children and their big happy family would gather around.  It made her miss her own anew--and she missed them anew every waking day. 

Jenna watched Tom wrap a warm blanket around his fourth child, then watched B'Elanna kiss the newborn's little head and caress her round cheek as she lead the newborn to her breast.  With a blink and a little flinch, B'Elanna grinned at the quick take, and then looked up to her husband.  He placed his lips to hers, holding there several seconds before whispering his love to her.  Tom then grinned at B'Elanna's next question. 

"Of course I have a name," he told her as he reached out for another diagnostic instrument.  "Isabel." 

B'Elanna smiled.  "I like it."  The infant didn't look at all like the Isabel they'd known, but it was a fine memory to honor all the same. 

Tom glanced at Jenna.  "Remember how she and B'Elanna were going to be pregnant together?" 

"I do."  Jenna nodded, feeling her eyes moisten at the recollection.  She'd had a friend on Tinalat, Nora, who'd been like that to her.  Having jumped into the Maquis right after the Tinalat massacre, she never found out what happened to Nora or her three girls.  She could imagine the best and the worst of possibilities, and dreaded the worst well enough that she never tried to check.  Knowing they had perished there would swiftly have replaced Lloyd's corpse with Nora's in her memory...  " Best I get back to the babes," she blurted and swung around to leave.  "Contact me when you want them to meet their sister." 

The Doctor peered up from his work to see his nurse disappear.  "Remind me to program more children and name them as meaningfully," he commented. 

"I wan see Mommy!" 

"Shh, Andre!  We have to get to sickbay first." 

"Bossy!" 

"I'm the oldest.  I'm supposed to be bossy--or else you'd just get in trouble." 

"Bossy--Wan see Mommy an' Daddy!" 

"Stop it, Andre.  We'll see Mommy and Daddy in a minute." 

"Okay, Awae." 

"But what's it, huh?  Knowitall!" 

"I never said I knew everything.  I'm just right when I do." 

"So whadya you tink?" 

"If you'd wait, you'd know, Kiarn." 

"It's a girl," Jenna stated from above the three curly brown heads.  Six eyes shot up to her.  "Your momma's fine and very tired, as is your papa.  --And they'll both be very tired, so I'd like you all to be on your best behavior for them, else you'll not be getting my wonderful bribe later.  I mean it, you three." 

"Yes, Jenna," came the chorus from below, making the godmother smile and straighten. 

Not a minute after their promise, though, the two elder Paris children shared a smile, making their toddler brother laugh... 

"You little buggers," Jenna started, "I know you're up--" She didn't bother with the rest as Alaine and Kiarn took off ahead of her for the turbolift, Andre hurrying not too far behind.  Jenna rolled her eyes and commanded, "Computer--suspend turbolift, authorization Harlowe beta-psi-two-eight." 

Taking her sweet time to walk the rest of the way to the giggling, squirming, hopping lift, Jenna amused herself with the idea that there had arrived that day a fourth Paris child to rescue poor, beleaguered Neelix from.  Even their cheerful resident Talaxian had his limits. 

Kathryn had given up on breakfasting the Paris children long ago, though through some insane sense of camaraderie, she had offered to sit them overnight while she enjoyed some rare off-duty time with some knitting and crew reports.  Realizing she had fallen asleep, the elder Parisites (a local joke) plotted and executed a brilliant invasion of the captain's lounger, spilling all the contents--woman, PADDs and yarn alike--off the back of the chair and across the floor.  The resulting laughter woke the third child early, causing him to rouse straight into a tantrum.  The harried captain deposited the brood in the mess hall not a hour later and was gone a minute after that.  Harry Kim had grown well beyond being suckered into more than escort service.  Chakotay--Jenna snickered at the very reminder--was a lost cause, and to his great luck already on duty.  That left the Talaxian as the next to fall. 

It was Neelix who'd begged for their Aunt Jenna to "...come and keep our little friends company?  --How about a delicious breakfast?  Your favorite?  Corned beef and a poached egg, out of my own rations?  Please?" 

"Oh, but I'm certain they'd love to learn first hand your gastronomical mastery!"  Jenna had laughed right back at him as she stretched in her nice, warm bed and giggled more to hear him stammer.  In the background, she could hear the little monkeys rattling the pans and chattering nonstop.  "--And I'd like some potato strings and applesauce with my breakfast, and sweet cream in my coffee, love." 

Wrapping up her hair in a sloppy knot and throwing on her usual dress, leggings and flat boots, she sauntered off to the mess hall to collect the kids. 

They soon put away the fruit, pots and utensils and tucked in the chairs they'd pulled so to play under the tables when their aunt ordered them.  She replicated them a couple coloring pads and a pack of waxes and sat them on the sofa..  Chagrined but relieved, Neelix had Jenna's breakfast ready with flowers on the table not a minute later. 

Indeed, even Neelix had his limits--and Jenna was a happy woman every time he reached them. 

If things worked out the way they'd been planning, there would be other limits to think about on Neelix's part.  I wonder where he'll go, she wondered, and then figured he'd go about exploring that side of space he'd heard so much about and claimed to be curious about.  She could see him staying with Voyager if he could.  Kathryn would certainly have him. 

Jenna knew well enough what she'd do for herself:  Go to her mother-in-law's and get back into her own babies' lives somehow.  She wondered how distant they'd be from her by then.  They had once been so close knit; her house had been so under her thumb.  In turns, she still regretted not going to a counselor like a sane woman might have, rather than deserting her children to her husband's mother.  But indeed, she hadn't been sane, hadn't thought of anything but her own hatred and fury. 

How humbling it had been when Voyager got the letters from home and all her children had written their momma, telling her about their lives and swearing their love and understanding of why she'd sent them ahead and remained with the Maquis.  After that, she had increasingly longed for her children, painfully so when she'd let herself feel it and yet knew that no amount of crying would get them back any sooner.  Since Voyager had completed that last jump and they all realized they may indeed see the Alpha Quadrant soon, she made a swear of her own that she would never turn away from that most important duty again and make every reparation she could to become a real and good part of their lives. 

Jenna knew well, too, that she needed to make those plans.  B'Elanna had been thinking hard on that next jump lately, sometimes to the point where it severely frustrated her.  And little wonder, Jenna smirked to herself, as transwarp and shield bubbles and all that want-not they fuss with is such a simple matter.  --I think not!

Taking another firm breath, Jenna stepped into the lift.  "Deck five." 

She imagined what her own five children must look like.  Tommy's twenty-two, graduating from college if Mother Harlowe had anything to do with his education.  Patrick's just out of high school, and Laura, my pretty little one, she's just gotten fourteen years.... 

"Knowitall!" 

"Aunt Jenna said it was a girl, so it's a girl," Alaine persisted, arms crossed and eyes pinned upon Kiarn. 

The boy didn't flinch.  "Andwe's wight--You're bossy." 

"Bossy Awae!" 

Jenna drew a slow breath.  Alex and Lizzie were born so close together; they were so little, they probably won't even remember me, not know their own momma.  And maybe it's for the best, that....

"I'm the oldest--that's not bossy.  That's smarter." 

"Is not!" 

Jenna finally stared down at the two.  "Alaine, don't incite your brother.  You know you're only egging him on.  And you, Kiarn:  Stop being such a pest." 

"I'm not a pest!"  Kiarn returned, his clever dark eyes suddenly set between fight and fear. 

"You're calling her names," the older woman snapped.  "I'd say that's pesky.  --And Alaine, you're just asking for trouble by insisting you're right all the time."  Jenna glared at the two.  "Just be thankful you have each other and good parents to love you.  It's a lot more than a lot of children have.  Try to act like it, would you?" 

Alaine blinked, glanced at her equally surprised brother before stepping nearer to her godmother, touching her hand.  "Jenna, there isn't anything wrong, is there?  Are you sure Mommy's okay?" 

Jenna sighed and shook her head.  "Your momma's fine," she assured, cursing herself.  "And here we are.  Go on, get away from my black cloud."  With a sweep of her hand, the children once again ran ahead of her once the lift doors opened. 

Also happily disturbing her train of thought was little Andre, stumbling to his hands but propelling himself forward again without effort.  Tall for a toddler with curly hair and clever dark eyes, he reminded her so of his namesake--when he didn't remind her of his mother. 

I'll have to get the boy a good kicking ball for his birthday, Jenna grinned to herself as she swiftly followed the others.  A real one, no hovers or searchers--and wouldn't it be a treat if he was a natural at it....

"Wait!"  Jenna suddenly called and hurried to catch up before they got to the Sickbay doors.  Quickly, she straightened Kiarn's shirt, then fussed with Alaine's hair--but sighed to give it up a few seconds later.  "Eh, I'll leave that for your father," she said, then ran her fingers a bit through Andre's curls, parting them to the side.  "Very well, now.  Quietly.  Your baby sister's in there, remember, and she's not used to your clamor yet." 

"Yes, Jenna," returned the chorus in a loud whisper. 

Taking a breath, the older woman gave a nod and tapped them ahead. 

Just as she had left them, but straightened up and lightly rested, the parents still occupied the surgical bay.  With her hair pulled up above her freshly-washed face, B'Elanna was dressed to go but still reclining.  Tom looked as though he'd just changed and shaved.  Their faces lit with tired smiles as their children entered the room. 

With a look from his wife, Tom smiled broadly and bent to scoop up his toddler son onto his hip and kiss his three and a half-year old on the head before giving both a lift up to the bedside.  After also receiving a peck from her father, Alaine hurried around to the other side of the bed, where a chair sat waiting for her. 

Andre crawled up near to his mother first; B'Elanna opened her arm to let him lay by her, snuggle his curly head in her side, as the other two kissed her cheeks. 

"Did Jenna tell you that you have a sister?"  B'Elanna asked them quietly. 

Alaine caught her brother's eyes quickly then nodded.  "Yes, Mommy.  What's her name?" 

"Isabel," she answered.  "She's very small and she's going to need a lot of care from Daddy and me.  --And don't be disappointed that you don't have another brother." 

Kiarn returned a sheepish grin.  "I'm not--mostly."  Then, on a sudden thought, he squinted at her, his small mouth curling up, then asked, "Mommy, are you a baby wepicator?" 

B'Elanna's eyes flew open and shot up to her husband.  He too had stopped at the question.  "A what, Kiarn?"  Tom asked on the edge of his grin. 

The boy shrugged.  "Seven said Mommy wepicates babies." 

"Oh she did?"  B'Elanna's mouth turned up.  "Funny, for all my working with it, I've never been compared to machinery before.  --It's a little different, Kiarn."  Already she could see the boy's active mind imagining her producing from her belly ice cream sandwiches and stuffed animals.  "Seven was trying to be subtle, sweetheart.  Mommy is not a replicator.  I'll talk to her and straighten that out." 

Tom stifled his laugh as he turned around.  "Just let me be there for that one, B'Elanna." 

"Seven was wong?" 

Alaine rolled her eyes.  "You should have asked Jenna," she scolded and readied for his usual reply to her corrections.  But a moment later, it was all forgotten when she saw her father return with a bundle in his arms.  When her father came to her side to place the infant in her mother's empty arm, Alaine got on her knees on the high chair to get a good look. 

Jenna sighed happily, watching the family there.  B'Elanna, surrounded by her babies, shared a proud smile with her husband as the elder children craned close to greet their little sister.  Tom's eyes shone as he told them about how the baby came into their world, just like they had before Isabel... 

We need to go home, Jenna sighed to herself, then glanced to her side when she heard the Sickbay doors whish open.  She smiled at the faces that greeted her. 

"I see the kids are getting to know the youngest Paris," Chakotay said. 

"Like little angels," Jenna confirmed. 

Janeway took in the view herself.  "They are quite a clan," she grinned.  "Those kids...  I don't know how they do it." 

"They always did like being busy," Chakotay said.  "They're at their best when they are." 

"True," the captain said and laughed quietly in afterthought.  "But I have to admit, I never thought I'd welcome the day when Tom Paris would take over my ship--one by one." 

Jenna giggled.  "You think you've got problems?"  she countered.  "Those two whelps are going to outdo my personal best!  I give it three more years and they'll have tied my record--unless you start doing your proper duty, Chakotay." 

Chakotay shook his head as the captain chortled and turned quickly away to muffle it.  "Jenna, of all days for you to get into it." 

"I'm not asking you to get in it," Jenna returned.  "I'm saying you'd better get in me, lest my record be tarnished.  I'm forty-two, I should be having the time of my life, but here I am, withering away like week-old lettuce." 

Chakotay wisely said nothing on that. 

"The least you can do is some fast work on Aunt Kat here, else the Parises will indeed take over the ship!  It'll be mutiny!" 

"Just remember we outnumber you, Chakotay," Kathryn clucked.  "--Starfleet, I mean...unless you let Jenna have her way, and then only time will tell." 

The man remained patient, playing along with both women.  Over the last couple of years, they had begun to take a vested interest in making him squirm--or at least Jenna had.  Kathryn simply liked to have a turn at bat every now and again.  In a way, he was glad she did.  So, he played along with them both, telling his captain, "We're just friends." 

"Bullshit," Jenna returned and goosed him.  He jumped, much to her heightened delight.  "Better watch out, Rocky.  I've got my sights on you so long as Tom and B'Elanna are still aiming at my record.  --And you don't run that fast, so be scared." 

"I've run fast enough so far, haven't I?" 

"You'll wear down soon enough, love." 

Janeway fought to control her snickers, knowing that she really shouldn't enjoy Jenna's wickedness as much as she did.  "This seems like a very personal issue," she said with mock concern, "so I don't think I have any authority here.  Just don't let this interfere with your working relationship with Nurse Harlowe, Commander." 

Jenna crossed her arms, triumphant.  "Yeah, or she'll have to resort to higher forms of discipline." 

He laughed.  "I'm not going to win this one, am I?" 

Jenna winked.  "Only if you take us both on." 

"Children." 

The nurse, the commander and the captain all looked towards the biobed, where five sets of eyes were pointed at them.  The tiredly amused half-Klingon mother, however, trained down her grin as she gave them a look. 

"I thought I told you not to tease each other in public," B'Elanna admonished, breaking her poker face upon her children's giggles.  "Come here and say hello to Isabel." 

"Gladly," Chakotay said and moved closer. 

Jenna gave Kathryn a wink as she took her arm.  "My poor old Lloyd would've spanked me hard for that one.  Then again, I like them to fight me."  She leaned close to the captain's ear.  "Makes them ferocious lovers, you know..." 

Kathryn just grinned and shook her head, wondering still how the diminutive woman had ever stayed out of trouble.  If I'd known her at my Academy days, I would've never graduated, she thought wryly.  At the same time, she knew she'd miss the lunacy someday. 

Once his old friend was at the bedside, Tom leaned up to him.  "I say you go for it, Chakotay," he whispered.  "Give her the shock of her life." 

"Which one?"  Chakotay breathed back with a chuckle. 

B'Elanna licked her lips, not daring to glance at the two redheads approaching the end of the bed.  "Got a coin, Tom?" 

-

"I got the reply from the Liberty," Tom told his wife as he stepped into the Marseilles' forward bunkroom. 

B'Elanna turned from the mirror, still brushing her hair.  The look on his face, pale and blank, utterly still, froze for a moment, made her heart beat off key.  She'd seen that look before.  "And?"  she asked softly, knowing the answer, but having to ask it... 

His words were emotionless.  "Avalar's already gone." 

B'Elanna's hand dropped as her eyes closed.  She drew a breath and opened them again to find Tom still in the entry, unchanged in expression, though a muscle in his jaw was visibly flexing.  Putting her brush down, she left the mirror and moved into his arms to hold him.  "I'm so sorry, Tom.  I wish we could have..."  Even she couldn't suggest something, so she stopped. 

"There wasn't anything we could have done," he muttered.  "We were too far away and couldn't have stopped them if we hadn't been.  Even the cell abandoned the planet, B'Elanna.  They couldn't put a dent in the Cardassian offense." 

She said nothing, knowing the result.  She'd seen a few "planet flayings" herself, the first at Tinalat, and she and Tom had survived the attack at Rislos together, when they sprinted just ahead of the firewall, and ended up in a bunker for four days... 

Well, at least something good came out of that, she mused.  But they witnessed that devastation three more times after, the effects of the charring phaser wave the Cardassians used to follow up their torpedo blasts.  So she knew what they would find if they did go there and that neither of them had any desire to see it again, especially when it was too late to make any difference.  Even so, we should arrange for somebody to go out and check for survivors. 

"Where are we headed, then?"  she finally whispered. 

"To Juvosic.  Chakotay needs some hull components but he can't get away.  Renalok's holding him up.  I have the list." 

"Okay."  Sighing deeply, B'Elanna finally turned to ease his coat off his shoulders, and then set it aside.  "Come to bed.  We'll need our sleep if we're going excavating." 

Nodding, Tom continued to undress as his wife finished brushing her hair.  Minutes later, they slipped between the covers of their small bed.  She turned towards him, holding him closely.  Tom welcomed her with a warm kiss before snuggling her cheek against his neck; then he called for the computer to dim the lights. 

He remained awake for some time after, long after B'Elanna had succumbed in his embrace.  At last, his eyes closed and his breath slowed.  He tried to ignore the visions behind his eyes, willed his mind to relax, thought about meditations and counting stars, twisted B'Elanna's hair in his fingers, felt her heartbeat against his chest... 

Hours later, B'Elanna groggily awoke, feeling one of the arms she'd been holding yank away from her.  She drew a breath as her eyes fluttered open and looked over at him.  Cringing, his hand jerkily was pushing his pillow into the wall. 

"No...no," he stammered in his sleep, wrestling his head from side to side.  "I can't do....  No!" 

-

For watching her alone, Tom wondered how he hadn't ever tired of it, yet every time he did it again, he figured it out pretty quickly.  She had such an expressive face, a clever, full mouth and those dark eyes, which held more in them than ten Federation databases.  He'd thought that about her the day he met her. 

What also never failed to fascinate him was watching B'Elanna nurse their children.  Even on their fourth, he never tired of watching their newest infant make a meal of its mother's milk, its little head bobbing against the soft flesh with every suck, and watching B'Elanna hold it, caress it, wince in a blink every now and again, but usually hold a strange, placid smile. 

It was so plainly beautiful to Tom that he never tried to describe it, only watched with a small, knowing smile of his own.  Every now and again, the parents' eyes would meet and those knowing grins would grow, but aware of what, neither really explained.  It didn't need to be explained, anyway.  Maybe just knowing they were happy--tired, but content, and often amazed even at that. 

After bringing Isabel home earlier that night, B'Elanna napped with the baby on and off and Tom took care of their other and very excited children.  Soon after, Jenna arrived to whisk them away and brought them home exhausted.  After he'd bathed them and put them to bed, he and B'Elanna laid on their sides in their bed, facing each other as Isabel suckled.  Just like every other time.  She held their daughter's head steady against her, sharing looks with her husband. 

How could anyone tire of that? he thought idly. 

After a minute or so, Tom reached out and caressed their infant's fuzzy dark gold curls, amazed they'd actually gotten a fair-haired child.  As much as B'Elanna had wanted it, he didn't expect it.  Still, she had a full face and mouth--for what they could tell from experience--and big brown eyes:  A blonde, ivory-skinned version of her mother. 

Moreover, though tiny like Alaine had been, she was ravenous.  The boys had nursed less vigorously that little one did.  Kiarn and Andre had more often played with their food, took their time.  That little lady devoured hers... 

"Tom," B'Elanna whispered.  He looked up from his daughter to see his wife's eyes widen then dart away.  He could practically see her mind cranking faster--and not about babies, he quickly realized.  "Do you think we could replicate a batch of the Marseilles' transverse emission coils and refit them to operate in Voyager's metaphasic shield array?" 

He blinked, giving himself the required moment to catch up to that extreme change of topic.  Then he did do the mental refit and nodded.  "I think so.  You might want to ask Joe.  Why?  What are you..."  There he stopped.  "You want to stabilize a transwarp field with our cloak?" 

She grinned, stroked her infant's head tenderly.  "It's a way to go about it without bothering with the Borg again.  I think it'll work:  If we can get the coils to adapt to Voyager's metaphasic subspace output, we might be able to reuse those transwarp nodes." 

"We've made trickier modifications." 

"My thinking entirely." 

"We'll have to run some tests--take the Cochrane, maybe?" 

B'Elanna nodded, stifled a yawn.  "Once Isabel's down, we'll contact Seven--and Joe should be getting off duty soon, so we'll have him bring her.  We'll let the others in once we get some specs." 

Tom nodded, drawing a good breath.  The thought felt good, right.  Looking once more to his lovely, brilliant, inspired wife, he leaned over and pressed his lips to hers.  "This might be the one, B'Elanna," he whispered. 

Her eyes lit up again.  Grinning down to their daughter, who had only begun to slow down, she slipped her finger into the infant's tiny fist and said, "Guess we're going back, then." 

He saw her mouth turn down.  "What?" 

She remained still.  "Where are we going to go?" 

"We'll figure that out when we get there," he said.  She stared at him, but he only shrugged in response.  "I'm serious.  We don't how things are politically over there now, even with a few contacts.  When we get back, we'll look around, see what's happening." 

"I don't like thinking we have nowhere to go, Tom." 

"I know."  Reaching out to touch her hand and their daughter's head, he found her gaze intently.  "We'll find a place that's be right for us.  We did before." 

She nodded slowly, then carefully disengaged Isabel, who had finally dozed off.  Letting Tom take her, lay her in her crib, B'Elanna leaned up from the pillow to watch him as she straightened her robe.  "I wish we could go back to Avalar," she whispered.  "I hope we can." 

Tom only nodded at first.  Once she was settled, though, he held out his hand.  When B'Elanna took it, he helped her up and went with her to the main room.  "Hopefully we'll be able to," he said, going to the replicator, "if the war's really over and the Cardassians are out of there." 

"Even if it was, it wouldn't be --Juice please?  ...We also have to choose the best place for the children, where they can have friends and security."  She sighed on that truth.  She'd never wanted to say it, and at the same time she wondered why their adopted homeworld mattered so much to her.  Years ago, she and Tom had agreed--it was not worth the danger if it might affect any of the children.  They'd told each other that for years. 

They'd still called it home, however. 

Taking the glass of juice from him with thanks, she sat in the chair he pulled for her, waited for him to join her.  When she saw his quizzical look on his face, she laughed.  "God, we're not even there yet and I'm already worrying about it." 

"Well, with any luck," Tom returned, "we won't have to go to Bokora, like we'd planned way back." 

She smiled at that.  "Let's hope we're lucky, then.  I never did like that idea as much more than a last resort.  If we do have to resettle...maybe Grinara?  It's close and neutral...  For now, should we call Joe and Seven, or wait?" 

"You're not tired?" 

"Oh I will be," she assured him, "but not now.  My mind's running too much to sleep.  I need to get this idea moving now or we won't have to worry about ever finding a place to live." 

Tom smiled.  That was his B'Elanna. 

-

"Oh God," B'Elanna choked, suddenly frozen in her steps. 

It took several seconds for Tom to think to blink, and then to turn away from what they had walked up upon, to hold her arms as she swallowed down the lurch in her gut.  He knew well by then that as tough as she could be, her stomach hadn't been included in the deal.  Not that his was faring much better:  His fingers rubbed her sleeves as he still held her arms, willing himself to breath through it. 

He was shaking.  So was she.  They had expected the sight well before they gave up the pretense of scrap hunting, long before they gave in to their consciences and Tom brought the Marseilles about and rerouted to Avalar.  They had seen it all before.  They had seen it many times before. 

It had become more difficult to see, not less. 

At least they'd found adults that time. 

Silently, they walked around the tableau, their boots crunching on the blackened earth as they came up to what once was a tree line.  But a collection of long, sooty trunks and the skeletons of bushes and fence cables stood there now. 

They tried not to breathe too much and did so consciously out of their mouths.  But even their tongues were tainted with the acrid air, with that peculiar tinge of death, and it only grew worse as they came closer to what used to be the capital's outer perimeter.  They continued forward, anyway.  They'd picked up life signs there and some other survivors to the north asked if they could go there and see what was left. 

"You!  Stop!"  came a female's rasp behind them.  They obeyed, turning around to find in their eyes a filthy Aldebaran woman in soot-striped clothing, holding a coughing child, equally stained.  "Who are you?"  she demanded. 

Tom went directly to them.  The woman stepped back at his pace, though, so he slowed himself.  "Sorry to scare you," he said.  "I just thought you needed...  I'm Tom Paris; this is my wife, B'Elanna.  We came to help.  The Fairneys sent us.  We have medicine and some supplies--not much, but some." 

"And we can get some more," B'Elanna said.  "Our ship is just over there."  She pointed to it, a form partially obscured in the fog of the recent mist of rain.  "Just tell us what you need." 

The woman regarded them both, then the ship, her child tight against her even after she nodded.  "Food.  A bath.  There are others in the area who've survived.  We've been trying to...rebuild.  Not everyone was as hard hit as here on the plain, so we're doing what we can." 

"We were just in the ranges," Tom told her.  "It's still bad." 

"It's all bad," she replied, looked them over again, and then decided.  "My husband has a broken arm and some deep cuts.  They don't look infected yet.  He got them after.  I'm okay, but Amik..."  She glanced to her child.  "She's been coughing a great deal." 

"Probably the soot, some radiation, nothing I'm unfamiliar with," Tom told her.  "Respiratory problems are pretty common on the Maquis ships, too.  The contamination rates should fade on their own according to our readings, but I can treat all of you in the mean time." 

"You're Maquis?"  the woman said and stepped back again.  "You aren't from the cell here." 

"They're gone," B'Elanna said flatly.  "We don't know where they went." 

The colonist closed her eyes a moment, caressed her child's back.  "Fools.  They got us into this, then ran away when it got tough."  If she had it to spare, she might have spit on the ground.  "But you're here.  How?" 

"We heard about the attack from an outside source," Tom told her.  "I had a friend here."  His eyes turned down before looking back to B'Elanna.  "I'm going to get the med kit and some rations for them, see where the Liberty is." 

"How long will it take for them to get here?" 

"Another couple of days if nobody comes calling," Tom answered and motioned to the woman.  "Can you go with her, see what else they need?" 

B'Elanna nodded, brushing his arm with her hand as he passed her.  "I'll COMM you if there's anything immediate," she said quietly and saw him nod back to her. 

She turned back to the dirty survivor, her silent, weakened child.  Though the woman seemed better off than the others they'd come across, they both looked like they had lost weight in the days since the attack, which wasn't surprising.  She drew a breath to ask about what food they had, then gulped against it. 

The colonist nodded to the Maquis' reaction.  "You get used to it," she said and started them off, around the deadened trees and a stone wall that had survived the fires but in color.  "We're just around the...way." 

B'Elanna swallowed again, cringing at the taste.  No, I *won't* get used to that. Still, she managed to reply, "Thanks." 

The woman closed her eyes and shook her head.  "No.  Thank you. I'm tired, and this has been...  I'm sorry if I haven't been--"

"Don't be," B'Elanna immediate assured her.  "Hell is a good word for what you've been through.  You don't have to be anything right now.  Just tell us what you need.  On that topic, if you want to leave, we can make those arrangements, too." 

"Has anyone else asked to go?" 

"A few." 

The woman nodded to herself.  "I bet I can guess who they are.  But no, thank you.  Uador said we might move if we can't repair the house, but we'd just go north, where there are more survivors.  There aren't too many of us left here on the plain--ten or twelve." 

"We picked up eleven in six different locations," B'Elanna told her. 

"That sounds right.  I'll point out their hou...what's left of their houses." 

They came around on the rubble that looked like the remnants of a wide, paved path.  B'Elanna then paused to stare across the expanse before her.  Like everything else there, it was little more than a collection of grays, blacks and putrid pale yellows stretching as far as the horizon, at the foothills.  Those mountains, amber-patched granite beneath a solid ashen sky, were the only sign of color left in the landscape.  She and Tom had come from that range, from Mila's house.  Now she was looking back at it. 

B'Elanna's breath stilled. 

The feeling in her heart when she spied that rise, looming brightly above the pall of Avalar's wasted plain, made her, for some insane and inexplicable reason, think that maybe K'Karn had a point when he suggested they find a place to live. 

-

"Are you going to be gone long?"  Alaine asked, watching her parents shuffle back and forth while they dressed.  She hugged Andre close up to her.  He meanwhile hugged his stuffed mok'la. 

"Probably just today if everything goes as planned," B'Elanna answered, taking a seat between her and Kiarn to pull on her boots.  "Jenna's going to stay here with you." 

"That's right," Tom said as he pulled on his gray coat then hooked its buttons as he regarded the six eyes that suddenly pointed at him from the bed.  "Now, the ship might get shaky for a while--but that's normal and nothing to worry about.  Mommy and I are going to be on the Marseilles, making sure we keep from bumping too much.  Jenna will try to explain everything that happens." 

B'Elanna nodded, hugging Kiarn up close to her side as she also addressed them all.  "So you listen to Jenna, be good with her today." 

"No pranks," Tom warned.  "No tripping or playing tricks--and no fighting.  Jenna's going to need your help and so will Isabel, who won't know what's going on and will probably start fussing a lot because of that.  Your mother and I are going to be very busy and won't be able to come back down to check on you until we're done.  Okay?" 

"Okay, Daddy," said the older two, only the barest mischief remaining in their eyes when they glanced at each other. 

Andre looked up.  "Me too." 

"Good," B'Elanna said.  "Now we're counting on you."  With that, though, and seeing all three look back up to her, she couldn't help but smile.  "But Daddy and I know you'll do great." 

"Are we going to be able to go home after today?"  Alaine asked. 

Tom and B'Elanna shared a glance then looked again at their children.  "We don't know," he said gently.  "Avalar might not be safe.  But there are a lot of places we can all live that would be like it.  The Alpha Quadrant's a big place.  We'll have to see, Alaine.  But then, we first have to get there, right?" 

The girl's full mouth turned up.  "Right."  She quieted as her parents stood again to finish getting ready, collected what PADDs they needed and, lastly, looked in on Isabel. 

Alaine had grown up knowing her homeworld was a long way away and loved going to the holodeck with her brothers to wander around the place, play at the lake and explore all the nooks and crannies of the rocks in the gorge all the way down to the plain.  Once every week, they all went there to have a picnic lunch, usually in front of the house, but sometimes they'd find another place, too.  Her parents told them it was a real place.  Alaine wished on stars sometimes that she'd be able to see it for real, too, someday. 

Thinking on that, the girl's little smile lasted until Jenna finally arrived; she kissed her parents when they said their goodbyes and took Andre with her to the craft table when Kiarn went to get his building sets. 

Even though her parents seemed a little nervous--they always were like that when they did new things on the Marseilles--Alaine remained pleasantly anxious, and to ensure her good behavior by staying busy, she took to her coloring sheets, where she imagined big trees and hills, orange and gray rocks and a bright blue sky, just like what she knew. 

-

"If I remember correctly," Tom said, holding his wife's hand as they came around the bend, "it's just...around here." 

But it wasn't there.  He furrowed his brow. 

"Maybe a little further.  Chakotay and I passed it a few times when we walked here." 

B'Elanna sighed, nodded.  Once she had told him to take her back to the hills, Tom had set his heart on finding the old guesthouse.  It was far up enough, he asserted, that it was probably okay.  For him, she cooperated. 

Turning eastward, they came upon another incline.  B'Elanna's heeled boots sank and slipped on the pebbled ground.  But Tom was still holding her hand and pulled her up with him, keeping his own purchase with some effort.  "Really, it used to be covered with grass and wildflowers," he told her.  "Blame the Cardassians." 

B'Elanna growled a little but continued without more complaint as she let her husband support her unsteady balance all the way up to the top of the rise. 

There, they found it. 

The structure was small, half black with soot.  The windows had imploded; some of the support timbers were loose and some of the slates had been broken.  The generous yard on the open step of the mountain was hard, bare and swept with ash.  Some rubble from the sharp hill behind it had partially crushed an adjoining room of the house. 

But the roof was of old fashioned red slate, rising from only a meter or so from the ground to a high peak on the main part of the house and formerly on the cross section.  An anachronistic stone chimney rose uninjured from one side.  As they walked around it, B'Elanna eyed the large windows in the front, and then the small, trellised porch. 

It was simple, what some might have coined "a quaint little chalet."  In that case, however, it was a chalet close to coming apart at the seams and sitting on the edge of a planetary massacre. 

B'Elanna's mouth twitched at the corners.  "I like it." 

Tom nodded slowly.  "Me too." 

The breeze came down the hill, creaking the house somewhere within its weakened beams.  Then they looked at each other, their eyes only beginning to reflect what they'd gotten themselves into. 

-

"*Voyager to Marseilles, we're just about done here and waiting for your ready.*"

"Thanks, Joe," B'Elanna said crisply.  "We'll have the cloak online in a couple more minutes.  Start generating the field only after we've extended the photonic grid.  --Tom, has the containment analysis completed yet?" 

"Everything's checking out," he said calmly, his nerves settling quickly as their business stepped up. 

Over the last three months, they had prepared, tested, retested, calculated, installed, prepared--and then tested some more.  Everything looked good, and nothing in his mind or instinct was stirring to disturb his confidence in their plan.  They could make that last jump--they would make that jump. 

Tom started tapping on his console.  "Harry, I'm transmitting our phase scans.  I'm not reading any conflicts, but I want to see your numbers too." 

"*I'm compiling the data,*" the ensign replied over the open COMM. 

Tom grinned as the data came back to him.  "So, what're you going to do first, Harry?  Get yourself a real plate of seafood linguini or a real girl?" 

Harry laughed.  "*That's a tough question, Tom.  Let me get back to you on that.*"

B'Elanna also snickered, but then told him, "Harry, I'm picking up some subspace irregularity in this projection.  Kathryn, I suggest you shut down Voyager's shield emitters.  We have the metaphasics online here.  Let the Marseilles do the work." 

"*That's going to make things choppy on your end,*" the captain replied with a hint of caution. 

"We can take a rough ride," B'Elanna replied. 

Tom clicked off the COMM and said aside, "Plus it'll give Isabel a taste for milkshakes right off."  He then clicked the COMM back on. 

B'Elanna coughed a laugh.  "God, Tom!  Now that's all I'll think about today!" 

A pause followed on both ships. 

"*I don't think we caught that, B'Elanna,*" came Chakotay's voice, etched with a big grin.  "*Please repeat?*"

B'Elanna was still laughing as she returned to her last minute checks.  "Not on your life, Chakotay." 

A chuckle was his only reply.  In the mean time, Voyager's shields dropped.  Nodding to that, Tom tapped on a few more buttons.  "Cloaking grid is online," Tom announced. 

"Marseilles to Voyager," B'Elanna continued, "I'm expanding the grid.  Take navigation offline and begin generating transwarp in t-minus 95 seconds...mark." 

"*Navigation is offline,*" Harry reported. 

"The grid is sealed," said B'Elanna. 

Tom took a slow breath, all business again as he stared out the viewport of his ship, his finger perched precariously over his console.  That familiar wave of calm and concentration that had been building before had now washed over him; he felt his senses heighten even as his body relaxed.  Soon, his mind recreated the angles and speeds they would be achieving to enter the transwarp field and computed the adjustments he would need to make while within that field--a kind of mental triple check that always seemed to happen whether he willed it or not. 

It looked good.  It felt right.  Nothing in his pilot's instinct told him otherwise, and that alone he trusted like any mere truth. 

It was time. 

"Going to warp...now."