Spirits, it was good to be home again. Staring around the chaotic mess that was Deep Space Nine, Commander Chakotay felt the traces of a smile bubbling up despite his attempts at levity. After all, a former Maquis rebel in the midst of Starfleet brass shouldn't smile too much. Still, the smile broke free. Turning, he grabbed the arm of perhaps his oldest friend. "We made it, Lanna."
B'Elanna Torres paused in her journey across the room to her daughter and husband, pressing a brief kiss to his lips. "That we did, Kotay." Eyes dark with undefined emotion, she pushed him away. "I understand that a certain newly ranked admiral is awaiting your adulation. Better not keep her waiting, they deprived her of coffee during the medical tests."
He grimaced and nodded, preparing to leave, but was halted by the sudden grasp of one
Counselor Deanna Troi. The Betazoid smiled briefly, angling her head in polite greeting. "I'm terribly sorry to bother you two, but there is a matter of great urgency you have to address. You left behind a bit of a legacy before your departure to the Delta Quadrant."
He raised a brow. "I thought the Maquis problem was cleared up, Counselor."
"It was, unless you want to consider the next generation a problem." She said cryptically, leading them through the burgeoning crowd. Somewhere beside him Torres suddenly gasped and cursed fluently.
"What is it?" He frowned, struggling for enlightenment. The half-klingon shook her head in faint horror.
"I'm not sure you want to know."
***
It was a child. A girl, to be exact, about eight years old, tawny-skinned, dark-headed, and with fairly prominent forehead ridges.
He raised a brow to his friend. "Did you forget to mention something, Lanna? Do I dare ask just who..."
She glared.
Troi took over, clearing her throat. "This young lady was born a few months before the Badlands incident, Commander Chakotay, apparently during one of Torres' more distant and extended Maquis missions. B'Elanna, do you want to take over?"
B'Elanna glanced at him, then stared furiously at the child, nestled into a corner of the sofa and sound asleep despite the melee outside. Finally, she sighed. "It was the mission during which I was away from the Liberty for four months, Chakotay. When I left, I was around four months. Lucky me, neither you or anyone else had noticed. She was born at seven months...in a makeshift safeway hospital. I...left before I could find anything out. I suppose I thought she hadn't made it...no one bothered to show her to me or update me after the birth. Maybe I was afraid to give them the chance. I left after a day and...hell, we ended up in the Delta Quadrant months later. I didn't see any point in enlightening you then."
He knelt, gently rubbing the childs cheek in his palm, smiling faintly. "I can't say its not a surprise, but shes beautiful, Torres. How do you think Paris will react?"
She stared at him as if he were a new brand of idiot, which, he had to admit, he was beginning to feel like. "I'm less concerned about Tom than YOU, Chakotay. Don't you get it? Just who the hell do you think I slept with in the Maquis?"
His smile fell quickly. "Spirits, Torres, shes *mine*?"
B'Elanna Torres paused in her journey across the room to her daughter and husband, pressing a brief kiss to his lips. "That we did, Kotay." Eyes dark with undefined emotion, she pushed him away. "I understand that a certain newly ranked admiral is awaiting your adulation. Better not keep her waiting, they deprived her of coffee during the medical tests."
He grimaced and nodded, preparing to leave, but was halted by the sudden grasp of one
Counselor Deanna Troi. The Betazoid smiled briefly, angling her head in polite greeting. "I'm terribly sorry to bother you two, but there is a matter of great urgency you have to address. You left behind a bit of a legacy before your departure to the Delta Quadrant."
He raised a brow. "I thought the Maquis problem was cleared up, Counselor."
"It was, unless you want to consider the next generation a problem." She said cryptically, leading them through the burgeoning crowd. Somewhere beside him Torres suddenly gasped and cursed fluently.
"What is it?" He frowned, struggling for enlightenment. The half-klingon shook her head in faint horror.
"I'm not sure you want to know."
***
It was a child. A girl, to be exact, about eight years old, tawny-skinned, dark-headed, and with fairly prominent forehead ridges.
He raised a brow to his friend. "Did you forget to mention something, Lanna? Do I dare ask just who..."
She glared.
Troi took over, clearing her throat. "This young lady was born a few months before the Badlands incident, Commander Chakotay, apparently during one of Torres' more distant and extended Maquis missions. B'Elanna, do you want to take over?"
B'Elanna glanced at him, then stared furiously at the child, nestled into a corner of the sofa and sound asleep despite the melee outside. Finally, she sighed. "It was the mission during which I was away from the Liberty for four months, Chakotay. When I left, I was around four months. Lucky me, neither you or anyone else had noticed. She was born at seven months...in a makeshift safeway hospital. I...left before I could find anything out. I suppose I thought she hadn't made it...no one bothered to show her to me or update me after the birth. Maybe I was afraid to give them the chance. I left after a day and...hell, we ended up in the Delta Quadrant months later. I didn't see any point in enlightening you then."
He knelt, gently rubbing the childs cheek in his palm, smiling faintly. "I can't say its not a surprise, but shes beautiful, Torres. How do you think Paris will react?"
She stared at him as if he were a new brand of idiot, which, he had to admit, he was beginning to feel like. "I'm less concerned about Tom than YOU, Chakotay. Don't you get it? Just who the hell do you think I slept with in the Maquis?"
His smile fell quickly. "Spirits, Torres, shes *mine*?"