Disclaimer: Star Trek: Voyager and all related characters owned by Paramount Studios. No copyright infringement intended.
---
Moving away from the mirror and lifting the roughly discarded tricorder from the floor, Voyager's former drone absently turned, gaze swiveling to the window. Paris was already disappearing down the back trail to colony central; business receptacle in hand, Hawaiian shirt glinting garishly in the spots of sunlight. Faded though the attire was, it was a remnant of Voyager that he refused to part with.
Carefully aligning the tricorder along the table edge again, she reached for the nearby communications terminal, inputting her desired connection by rote and sitting on the edge of a nearby chair, back prickling with tension.
"Seven!" The gravelly greeting that broke through the barely cleared transmission was a clear mixture of surprise and unease. "I intended to contact you later this evening."
"Yes, of course." The conversations they had set aside in nine years…since Chakotay's death…had always run like clockwork, weekly, precisely thirty Terran moments of strained inquiries into health and family and work. "It could not wait, Admiral. I need your counsel."
"I see." Even through distance and terminal screen, it was not difficult to see the surprise in the tired face, the wary guard. "This is new. It's been a while since you've asked me for anything."
"I would not ask now if I did not find it critical…" Deep-seated embarrassment rose first, and then anger. Shifting, Annika crossed her arms, pacing.
"That isn't what I meant, Seven." Janeway spoke carefully, words measured with wry humor. "I'm pleased to hear from you, and that you seek my advice. Its worth is doubtful, but your thoughtfulness is not. Stop that walking, I can't see you. The channel is secure. Now what is it you need?"
Sitting suddenly in a nearby chair, Voyager's former drone sighed. "It is Tom."
"Isn't it always?"
Casting the view screen a frown, she continued. "The conflict involves Stella…as well as John Torres, to a certain extent. I am uncertain about the Doctor…"
"That's quite a collection." The Admiral nodded slightly, lifting her mug for a sip before continuing. "Stella is ill again, and you have things in mind that I, as a representative of Federation law, should likely not hear of in any detail. Tom is being a perfect gentleman and stubborn as a targ in his refusal to allow you to play martyr. Well? Is that the gist of it?"
"I continue to forget how shrewd you can be."
"They were simple deductions, Seven. The only thing you forget is how well I know both of you." Voyager's former captain knitted her brows. "The Doctor has heard my opinion on his frankly dangerous ideas. Where does John Torres fit in?"
"That is what I thought you would know."
"Hi, Admiral. Can we go now, Mama?" The door slid open and Stella raced in, tapping a foot impatiently, her mother's hand down sun hat falling dangerously low to cover one eye. Shoving it back up, she frowned. "Can we?"
"I'm sorry …we'll have to continue this conversation later." Turning back to the view screen, Annika lifted her hands in a quiet gesture of surrender.
"Yes, later, of course…and think nothing of it." Kathryn Janeway smiled. "Go spend time with your daughter, Seven. Leave the difficulties with those of us equipped to handle them." Before response could be given, the transmission ended and a dark screen stared back.
"Mama…"
"I am coming, Stella. Be more patient." Gaze lingering briefly on the terminal, Annika reached for the traditional beach accessory basket. Shrewd and not always helpfully so…I have become paranoid. Straightening, she grasped the small hand of the child waiting nearby, leading the way outside.
---
"They call it Yaupon…" Voyager's former astrometrics officer explained patiently, guiding the small hand beneath her own over the marshland plant that she so loved. "It was introduced to this planet by a man named Chakotay several years before your birth. Most do not consider it especially beautiful, but it has use. Long ago, the natives of the Earth continent North America created a purifying drink from the berries of this plant."
"It's really pretty. Can I eat a berry, please?" Solemn blue eyes peered up, and Annika smiled, smoothing a flyaway lock of golden hair from the porcelain face. Hours had passed on the beach, and Stella seemed still insatiable…and tireless. Perhaps I am too paranoid and she is not so ill…
"I don't think so! Isn't that poisonous?" Large hands scooped the girl up from the sand, lifting her into the air, and she giggled helplessly, staring back down at her mother.
"Your father is correct. It would probably be an unwise thing to ingest." The former drone admitted, standing and sweeping sand from her bare knees.
"Miral brought sweets home." Paris offered at the baleful glare shot his way. "Why don't you go filch some before she finishes?"
"Not too many, Stella!" Her mother interjected, hands resting on her hips, a second glare transferring to the former pilot.
He laughed, and then sobered, moving closer and offering a hand filled with flowers. "You two spend a lot of time out here, don't you?"
"I find it peaceful, without being completely silent." She acknowledged, ears taking in the lapping tide behind them. "It provides ample space for Stella to explore."
"I want to apologize for earlier…"
"Unnecessary…" Voice subdued, she accepted the tokens, eyes warily absorbing his smile, teeth catching on her lower lip briefly. "We are both under a great deal of stress…"
"Is that to be the excuse of the day?" He grimaced, bending to touch the petals gently. "I remember this one. You insisted on potting it when we moved into the cottage. The cases were delivered at midnight, you were pregnant and sick as all hell but refused to change out of your robe or put on slippers until every sample was done perfectly. As I recall, it took two days, an Admiral, a hologram, and a Vulcan to entice you off that patio."
"Chakotay loved the plant. And I suppose I can be somewhat stubborn." His companion admitted cautiously, fingers twining about the flower stem, hair loosening in the sudden breeze.
"You think only somewhat?" He kidded; standing and trailing her back toward the seaside cottage they had made into a seasonal home and the two children waiting just outside, sweets in hand. "And Chakotay didn't have to live with the cold you got…" His voice fell off, eyes shuttering. "Sorry."
Casting only a passing frown in his direction, she bent to retrieve the scattered toys before facing him completely. "I intended to germinate a new selection of samples in the upcoming year with Stella…but I suspect she may not be here at that time. I wanted her to at least touch Yaupon. You should be pleased. It is a purifying plant."
"I'm not." Exhaling slowly, he paused, turning to face her in the dying light. "Seven, we've been living together for the better part of a decade…nine years. From my limited experience, I actually thought we were happy. Now in the last year everything has unraveled. The relationship, the family…hell, we can't even hold our friendship together, and that's about the only thing either of us has left. All we seem to do is hurt one another."
"You do not understand me, my frustration. I love my daughter. You cannot expect me not to fight for her life…you cannot possibly understand. Miral is yours. I have only one living child. I could not bear to lose Stella."
"And you think I could? You think I could bear to lose my daughter, our daughter, or you, Seven?" Paris flushed, eyes darkening. "I'm not convinced that the Doctor's way is the only way. There have to be alternatives…ways that won't take from you, ways that won't borgify that kid and leave her a target for every greedy treasure hunter in the quadrant." Lifting an arm to glance at his chronometer, he sighed. "Look, I have an appointment with the Admiral." Bussing her on the cheek, he grinned at his daughters as they drew close. "And maybe Miral can show you how to fix that fruit salad her grandfather concocted. It has strawberries."
"I will not be tempted from the topic at hand." The former drone muttered as he strode back towards the shuttle port, crossing her arms.
"Of course you will." Miral grabbed the arm of the only mother she remembered, towing her sister with the other hand. "Whatever the topic was….and why couldn't we go? I like the Admiral. It better not be a business meeting, Dad's supposed to be on vacation. Is it about modifying the Flyer again? Does he ever give up?"
"Are you kidding?" Stella questioned, wrenching free of the death grip and bounding ahead to open the door.
"No." Her mother offered, ruffling the head of blonde as she passed and sighing slightly. "I do not think he does give up. Stella, please go change."
"That meeting isn't about the Delta Flyer, is it?" Swallowing the last of her candy, Miral trailed her companion into the kitchen, sitting on a stool and staring.
"Why do you believe that?"
The young woman smiled, teeth baring slightly, blue eyes hardening. "I saw the blood, you know. Stella did too. I told her I had a nightmare, woke up and hit the door, cut myself, went and crawled into bed with you two last night. She believed me, too, good thing my blood is red, not purple. Do you like hurting Dad as much as he likes hurting others?"
"Your father is not a man who takes pleasure from the pain of others, Miral." Slamming a drawer shut, the former drone closed her eyes, shoulders squaring.
"Dad and Grandpa were holed up in the study all weekend. We almost missed the race, and Dad was mad at me because I pulled him away from whatever he was working on to catch the last minute shuttle. He hit me. It was okay, he was sorry…horrified…the minute he did it, and I think we reached an understanding. I inherited both his temper and a Klingon one, you know." The twelve year old leaned back on her perch and frowned, brow ridges crinkling in apparent concentration. "My grandfather knows nothing about the Delta Flyer, and Dad is never that involved in it these days. He says it reminds him of my moth…" The quarter-Klingon swallowed the last word in a rush, wincing. "Sorry. But the point is, he's mean lately, Seven. Like he's got his mind on something and the rest of us are just crash dummies in his path."
"Crash dummies, I see." Crossing her arms, the former drone lifted a brow in thought. "Many things could have caught your father's attention. He and your grandfather…perhaps they are only informal meetings…the anniversary of your mother's birthday is approaching."
"He tries to forget those, too."
"Or perhaps…it is soon to be Harry Kim's promotion ceremony. They must be planning a surprise."
"And Granddad cares about Harry? They've barely met."
"It could be about Admiral Janeway, then." Irritation began to gnaw, and Annika glared.
"And you weren't invited? You don't really think she hates you that much, do you, Seven?"
"No…" After a long moment of thought, the answer came softly. "But I suppose that I may be an unwelcome reminder of Chakotay's fate, and how he met it." Uncrossing her arms, she reached out a hand to touch the lightly ridged forehead, smiling slightly. "I am certain that it is nothing, Miral. Your father and I will discuss his behavior very soon. Now, run along upstairs and aid Stella. I have business to attend to."
"I thought you and Dad were on vacation until we returned to Earth. You promised, remember?"
"Well…this is not work, precisely. It is…research on a topic I am interested in. It will affect all of us."
"Seven, we will all be going back to Earth this winter together, won't we?" Brief, naked trepidation crossed the tanned, keen face, a miniature of B'Elanna Torres'.
"Why would you believe otherwise?" Grasping a small shoulder, the former drone lowered her tones. "We do not break our vows, Miral. We are a family. And we will remain such. If you are concerned about your sister…"
"Everyone is. Everyone loves her, losing Stella would be terrible. But I know it may happen. I've accepted it, like I accepted Mom's death. I just don't think I could take losing anyone else."
"You won't." Hand moving to stroke the tawny head of her adopted daughter, Annika sighed. "I assure you with every breath I have, you will lose no one else. Not even Stella."
To Be Continued