Spirits
Disclaimer - Paramount and Viacom own the characters from Voyager, although they didn't often treat them right. The story line belongs to me.
A special thanks to: My friend and editor of all my stories, Mill3rs.
Chapter 2 – Epilogue
The doors to the bridge slid open and the three occupants of the turbolift moved slowly towards the pilot's console. The young blond haired boy looked around at how large the bridge appeared. "Grandpa, can I sit at the helm?" He asked as he looked up at the tall gentleman who stood behind him.
The older man's blue eyes sparkled as he looked around the bridge. His smile was faint as he moved slowly towards the helm. His back was stiff from many years of test piloting shuttles and being squirreled away in a Holodeck studio programming some of the more popular holonovels for the past twenty five years. Sitting down, he gathered the young boy onto his lap and started to point out the various controls. The boy eagerly responded and joined in as he helped named some of the flight patterns made famous by his grandfather.
"Your grandmother would be very proud of you, Michael." The older man said as tears filled his eyes. B'Elanna had been gone for ten years now and the pain of her death was still strong.
The other man looked down at his father and gave his son a smile. He remembered sitting on his father's lap many years ago, looking at the same controls. His older sister had joined Starfleet and was now Captain on the latest reincarnation of the Enterprise. He had followed his father's footsteps for awhile, piloting new shuttle designs before he resigned to follow his true love, the sea. He was in charge of the Interior Department of the Federation Naval Patrol. He glanced around the bridge but turned back when he heard a gasp from his father.
Tom felt a sudden crushing pain in his chest and grabbed his left arm. His face paled as Michael jumped from his lap. He faintly heard Joseph calling to him. He fought to keep his eyes open but they closed of their own accord.
* * * * *
"Hey." A soft voice by his ear coaxed Tom to slowly open his eyes. The pain was gone and he looked up into the soft brown eyes he remembered so well.
"I missed you so much. I thought about you every day." He whispered. This can't be real. He thought as he took in her gold shouldered uniform and the unlined face.
"I've missed you too, helmboy." B'Elanna replied with a soft smile on her face.
"Well, Mr. Paris. It certainly took you long enough to get here." The slight gravely voice behind him had Tom spinning around to look at the command chairs. There, in their red command uniforms, sat Kathryn Janeway and Chakotay smiling down at him.
Tom heard a sound to his left and looked into the calm face of Stadi, the Bajoran pilot who had first brought him to Voyager so many years ago.
Touching him lightly on his shoulder, Stadi smiled at him. "I'm your relief, Tom. Go and get reacquainted."
As Tom stood, he noted his reflection in the highly polished surface of the helm. He was once again in his command uniform, the gray gone from his hair and the wrinkles smoothed away from his face. He moved into B'Elanna's embrace and turned to see others from their long journey at their respective stations.
Suddenly, Joe Carey, who had appeared on the bridge, motioned them all to silence. The doors of the turbolift opened and a dark haired young boy ran onto the bridge with an older man.
"Dad, can I sit at the helm?" The boy looked up into the man's face.
"Of course, son." He answered as he picked up the boy and sat him on the pilot's seat.
The End