Summary: After receiving an unexpected letter from the Alpha Quadrant, B'Elanna recalls her last months with her mother.

Author's Notes: This is a story I've been trying to write for two years, but finally a conversation with CaptAcorn gave me what I needed to fit all the pieces together. The most special thanks goes to her for holding my hand while I wrote this and for reading it over and over… Thanks also to RSB for help in the early stages of this story, and to Delwin and Photogirl1890 for reading the final drafts.

This story is complete and I will be posting a new chapter every couple of days (there are twenty in total). As always, feedback is adored!

The Lament of a Daughter

June 2377

Chapter 1

B'Elanna's eyes fluttered open, a dimly lit sickbay materializing before her. Sickbay? She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to clear the fog from her head. The clatter of metal hitting metal came from her right - the surgical bay. B'Elanna slowly rolled onto her side, her muscles screaming at her motions. Fuck, what happened to me?

On her side, B'Elanna pushed herself onto her elbow – grimacing as pain shot down her back – so she could see the surgical bay. A glint of light reflected off a pale, bald head – the Doctor – as he bent over his patient. He began to hum as he worked; B'Elanna only knew the song as one that the Doctor often sang. Something about sunshine.

The tune was interrupted by a grunt and a plop as something was discarded from the patient – something that looked Borg.

The mission… Memories from the past couple days flooded her mind. Fighting hand to hand with a Borg drone. The pain of the injection tubules piercing her skin. Standing in the Borg cube, catching the reflection of her bald head, metal implant protruding from her skull. Dropping to her knees in the transporter room, the Doctor rushing towards her…

"B'Elanna?"

She jerked her head toward the sound of the captain's voice – a move that caused pain to lance through her. Easing herself back onto the biobed, B'Elanna gently rolled onto her left side. B'Elanna couldn't see her face, but assumed the blanket covered legs protruding from the barrier separating the beds belonged to Janeway.

"Yes," B'Elanna rasped. Fuck, that vocal subprocessor did a number on my voice…

"How do you feel?" B'Elanna was sure that, if she could, Janeway would be placing a comforting hand on her shoulder as she spoke.

"Like shit." Did I just say that out loud? To the captain?

Janeway laughed. "Yeah, me too."

The Doctor's humming permeated the silence that followed. If the captain is there, and I'm here… That left only one likely candidate as the patient in the surgical bay. "Tuvok?" B'Elanna asked.

"The Doctor's still working on him. He…" Janeway paused. "He was in worse shape than us."

B'Elanna swallowed – and immediately regretted it as pain seared her throat. "Is Tom helping?"

"He was. The Doctor told me he went to take a nap about five hours ago. He should be back anytime now."

B'Elanna felt the urge to wake him up – to let him know she was okay - but immediately dismissed it. If he'd left Tuvok in the middle of surgery, he must have been exhausted. "How long…?"

"It's been two days."

B'Elanna took a breath and closed her eyes. She'd known that having the Borg technology removed wouldn't be trivial, but two days? How many of those hours had Tom been awake, performing surgeries on the three of them. I'll let him sleep, she thought, her eyelids growing heavy. We could all use some rest…

The whine of a tricorder roused B'Elanna. Why does he set the volume on those things so loud? About to give the Doctor a piece of her mind, B'Elanna opened her eyes – to see Tom.

"Hey." He set the tricorder aside, taking her hand in his.

"Hey, yourself." She looked down at their intertwined fingers, the colors alternating from his pink to her olive.

"How you feeling?"

"Not bad for someone," she paused, allowing the pain in her throat to subside for a moment, "who was recently Borg."

Tom chuckled. "Well, that's a pretty low bar." He brought his hand to her face, caressing her cheek. "Are you in any pain?"

"My throat is sore," she replied, knowing that Tom wanted to do something – anything – to help her. Not to mention it was really fucking annoying.

"That's from the vocal subprocessor. It did a number on your larynx." Tom turned away and loaded a hypospray. "This should help."

B'Elanna felt the cool touch of the instrument against her neck, followed by the hiss of the injection. "Better?" Tom asked.

B'Elanna swallowed, finding it less horrific. "Yes." A corner of her mouth twitched upwards. "Thanks."

"You sound better, too." He sat on the edge of the bed and took her hand again. A moment passed as his blue eyes focused on her, his face slowly falling from a smile to a frown. With a sigh, he leaned forward and grabbed a PADD off the table next to her bed.

"What's that?" B'Elanna asked, trying to get a view of the text.

He squeezed her hand a little tighter. "How are you feeling?"

"You already asked me that." B'Elanna looked Tom over. His brow was knit with concern, and his lips were pursed. "Are you okay? Is Harry okay?"

"We're fine." Tom grimaced… as though not everyone was fine. Oh god… "Chakotay?"

Tom shook his head. "B'Elanna, he's fine, too." Leaning down, he kissed her on the cheek and whispered. "Everyone on Voyager is fine." Continuing to stroke her hair, he pulled back. "I don't know if this is the right time to tell you. But I wanted to give you the opportunity to respond and the data stream goes out in just a couple hours."

The data stream? Why would she need to 'respond' to something that happened in the Alpha Quadrant? Unless… Panic surged through B'Elanna. Had they made a ruling on the Maquis? Was she going to have to spend the rest of the trip home in the brig? … Or worse? "What happened?"

Tom trained his eyes on the floor. "Remember how last month we asked my parents if they could find out anything about your mom?"

B'Elanna blinked, switching gears from anxiety over the fate of the Maquis to dread about her mother. A chance to respond… Did that mean she was alive? B'Elanna looked back at Tom, and instantly knew from the expression on his face. "She's dead."

Tom swallowed, giving her a nod. "I'm so sorry."

"How long?" B'Elanna cut in, blinking and looking away from Tom. You knew this. You saw her on the Barge of the Dead.

"Two years."

B'Elanna did the math. It didn't line up with when she'd seen her mother in the afterlife, but that didn't matter. She doubted the hereafter adhered to a linear timeline. "How?"

"She was at a conference on Betazed when it fell to the Dominion."

B'Elanna felt tears welling in her eyes. She turned away from Tom. "Thank your parents for me," she whispered.

"B'Elanna…" Tom's hand was on her back, tracing out large circles.

She took a deep breath, holding in the tears. "I'm okay." She faced him again. "I suspected. It's fine. I've already dealt with this."

"Well, just let me know if there is something I can do."

B'Elanna tried to give him a convincing smile. "I will." She searched for a way to change the subject, something to distract Tom… and herself. "I see you didn't lose your pip while I was gone." She nodded towards the collar of his uniform and waited to see if he'd play along – if he'd allow her to force a lighter mood.

When he chuckled, B'Elanna nearly let out a sigh of relief. "I was actually promoted to first officer in your absence," he said, puffing out his chest in mock pride.

"Oh?" B'Elanna raised her eyebrows. "Do I have to call you 'sir' now?"

"Only in bed," he said with a waggle of his eyebrows.

"The captain's right there!" B'Elanna hissed, smacking his arm.

"She's asleep." He flashed her that dumb grin he got when he thought he was oh-so-clever.

B'Elanna snorted and rolled onto her side, she curled her body around him, lightly tracing patterns on his thigh. "Tell me what happened while I was gone."

"Well," Tom began, and B'Elanna closed her eyes.

=/\=

"All right, so you have water, some snacks, the remote control for the TV… is there anything else you need?" Tom asked as he tucked the blanket around her feet.

B'Elanna kicked, shooing him away. "I'm not an invalid," she grumbled, leaning over to grab her computer from the coffee table. True, she'd leaned on him heavily as they'd walked from Sickbay – the lingering effects of nerve damage from the clamp the Borg had put on her spinal cord – but now that she was seated on the couch, she was feeling fine.

"I never said you were. But I'm up at the moment, so… is there anything else you need?"

B'Elanna shifted on the couch, trying to get comfortable, but the armrest was jabbing into her back. Well, if it will make him feel useful… B'Elanna glanced over at the bed. "My pillow?"

"Yes, ma'am."

As Tom walked away, B'Elanna opened her messages and started scrolling through them. There were hundreds of them.

"So, you're sure you'll be okay without me?" Tom called from the bed.

"Didn't we just go over me not being an invalid?"

Tom returned the couch as B'Elanna was opening Carey's repair schedule. Thrusters, shields, deflector dish… there was hardly a system left unscathed.

A ball of fur appeared on her shoulder, and B'Elanna turned to find herself staring into a pair of dark, glassy eyes. Looking up, she saw Tom grinning, holding Toby against her. "He missed you." B'Elanna snatched the stuffed targ from his hand and stuffed him between her leg and the cushion.

"Is that so?" B'Elanna leaned forward so Tom could place the pillow behind her back.

"It is. He told me." Tom placed a kiss on the top of her head. "Okay, I have to go. But you'll call me or the Doctor if you start feeling worse?"

"Yeah," B'Elanna replied, distracted again by Carey's message.

"Hey." He reached down, placing a hand on her cheek.

B'Elanna looked up from her terminal. There were still deep creases on Tom's forehead and dark circles under his eyes. "I love you," he murmured.

B'Elanna could see the fear behind his gaze – the fear at having nearly lost her. She swallowed, and pushed away a surge of guilt for having done this to him. She reached up and grabbed the front of his uniform, bringing him close for a kiss. "I love you, too."

Tom smirked as they broke. "I'll see you tonight," he said, as B'Elanna's hand fell away.

"Bye." B'Elanna watched as he left, disappearing into the bright light of the corridor as the doors slid shut behind him. Turning her attention back to the terminal, she sent a quick response to Carey before continuing to scan through her messages. Damage report after damage report... I should go down to Engineering - just to check in. She swung her legs off the couch and tried to rise – but a shooting pain in her back, followed by a wave of vertigo, stopped her short. Or maybe I'll just stay right here… she thought, dropping back onto the couch, clenching her eyes shut, and taking several deep breaths.

Once the world had stopped spinning, B'Elanna returned her attention to the computer and started scrolling again, looking at the subject headings and trying to get a handle on who was doing what. As she made her way through the long list of messages, one name stopped her short… a name she hadn't thought about in years: Dar'Rok, son of Ma'Leth.

Since they'd begun receiving messages from the Alpha Quadrant, B'Elanna hadn't received a letter – nor had she expected to. And even if she were to get one, her mother's brother would not be top of the list of people she thought she might hear from.

This must be about Mom, she thought as she stared at the message. A part of her wanted to keep scrolling, to not deal with whatever her uncle felt honor bound to tell her. But she found herself opening the message anyway.

Klingon characters filled her screen, and B'Elanna groaned, wondering if she should translate it or try to read it in the original form. Deciding she didn't want to deal with it, she quickly transformed the text into Federation Standard.

To B'Elanna, daughter of Miral,

I was contacted by Starfleet Command and informed that we could now communicate with you on a regular basis. It is my honor bound duty to inform you why Starfleet contacted me rather than your mother: Miral died two years ago during the Battle of Betazed. Her colleague that survived informed me that she fought valiantly, killing many Jem'Hadar before falling. Her place in Sto'Vo'Kor is assured.

Not as assured as you may think… B'Elanna gnawed on her lip. But I got her there, eventually.

Starfleet notified your mother that you were alive before she passed.

Mom heard from Starfleet back when we sent the Doctor to the Alpha Quadrant?

They told her they would be sending letters to your crew and asked her if she wanted to write one to you. Miral sent one, but I have been informed it did not reach you.

B'Elanna stopped short. Her mother's letter had been one of those lost when the Hirogen array imploded? Her gut tightened as her mind flashed back to that day in Astrometrics. When she had been downloading those letters, she'd never imagined that she'd see one from either of her parents. But… her mom had actually sent one?

Tears began to well in her eyes. What had it said? Had Miral been mad? What did Miral know of her life on Voyager? Would she have finally been proud? Blinking, B'Elanna turned back to her uncle's message.

I found a copy of the letter in your mother's personal effects. I've attached it here.

B'Elanna's mouth went dry. Her uncle had just sent her a letter from her dead mother? She had the last words her mother would ever say to her in her hands?

Krel'Tah and I look forward to hearing of your glorious deeds in the Delta Quadrant.

Qapla', daughter of Miral,

Your 'IrneH

B'Elanna took several deep breaths and stared at the attachment. She looked up and the ceiling, her heart pounding in her chest.

"Get out of my sight."

The last words Miral had spoken to B'Elanna in life bounced around in her head. She could hear the venom in her mother's voice, feel her stomach turning just like it had on that day. B'Elanna squeezed her eyes shut, fighting the resurgence of memories from eleven years ago.

=/\=