Second Chances: Chapter 9

Stardate 54467.2
2377
U.S.S. Voyager
Alpha Quadrant

*Admiral Paris to Lt. Paris.* Tom Paris heard the chirp of his communicator and scrambled to reach his uniform where it had been unceremoniously dropped.

"Paris here," he replied once he found it.

*We'll meet you in the mess hall in thirty minutes,* his father replied. *I trust that's enough time to get ready.*

"We'll be there," he replied. "Paris out." He closed the comm channel and turned back to his bed, where B'Elanna was rising and gathering her uniform pieces. "Was there a war?" he asked and he began dressing.

She nodded as she stepped into her pants. "About six months later," she said. "The whole thing was orchestrated by the Dominion—"

"Who?"

She looked taken aback for a minute, then chuckled. "You have a lot to catch up on," she said, amused. "That's another story entirely. I'll get to that eventually. But yes, there was a war between the Empire and the Cardassians. First the Klingons won, then the Cardassians joined the Dominion, then everyone went to war, and everything returned to the way it was before any of it started." She rolled her eyes. "Standard Klingon bluster. Fight a war, declare yourself a victor, nothing changes in the end."

He knew that tone in her voice, somehow both resigned and frustrated at once, the one she always got when she talked about anything Klingon. "I'm sorry about your mother," he finally said. She had mentioned in a letter over the datastream that her mother had died before Izzy was born, but didn't include specifics. "I'm glad you got to talk to her, at least."

She nodded dismissively, not quite meeting his eye, and he still knew that look, the one that said she couldn't quite process what she felt and didn't know how to talk about it. He knew that while he was just hearing this now, Miral had died a long time ago, and he wondered if he was dragging up things she would prefer not to think about. "It was…different," she finally said. "When you disappeared, it was like a piece of me disappeared with you. But when my mother died…" her voice trailed off again, processing what she was thinking. "She had been such a huge part of my life for so long," she said, her words now coming out in a rush. "For the first seventeen years of my life, she was always there, always…nagging me, and it drove me insane. It drove us apart. And even after I left, she was still there, inside my head, making me angry, making me second guess myself, making me second guess everything. Including you." She was looking at him fully now, and he pulled her into an embrace. He knew that, of course, one of their countless conversations about their parents and the difficulties living up to expectations they didn't want to meet. "But then you were gone, and I was pregnant with Izzy, and I understood, and I thought that maybe we could actually have a relationship. And then… And then she died. And it was just…over." She pulled away from him and resumed getting dressed. "I think about her sometimes," she said, her voice now even. "I wish she could have been there for Izzy. It would be nice to have her grandmother tell her about what it means to be Klingon. I certainly can't do it—I don't want her to pick up on the resentment. I want her to be proud of her heritage. Or at least accepting of it. I think things would have been different for me if I had been taught to appreciate the different sides of who I am, instead of growing up thinking that I wasn't enough of either for it to be worth it." There was a split second of vulnerability in her expression before she rolled her eyes. "She would have been really helpful when Izzy is being a brat, too," she said dryly.

"What?" he asked in mock disbelief as they stepped out of his quarters. "How can any child of ours be a brat?"

She chuckled, the heavy mood gone, or at least temporarily dismissed. "Oh, you're in for a treat with this parenting thing, let me tell you. Six going on sixteen. Or something."

The fact that his daughter was six years old and that he had missed her entire life was never far from his mind, and her words and the off-hand way she said them gave him another stab of guilt that he knew wasn't intentional.

They entered the dining hall and were immediately swamped by people congratulating Tom and thanking B'Elanna. He tried making introductions, but there were too many people and he could tell she was getting overwhelmed. Fortunately, she saw a familiar face in the crowd and brightened. "Joe!" she exclaimed.

"Hey, Torres," the chief engineer replied with a smile. "Welcome to Voyager. Well, welcome back."

"Looks a little different than the way I left it," she joked.

"Did you even see the mess hall?" Paris asked. "Or did you just replicate something at your workstation in engineering?"

"I can't believe you thought I ate lunch," she said to him, amused. "But I am looking forward to seeing what engineering looks like," she said to Lt. Carey. "What time do you need me tomorrow morning to help out?"

Carey chuckled. "I don't think I'm allowed to dictate the duty schedule of lieutenant commanders," he replied. "Whenever you want to come is fine."

"Careful," Paris warned. "She'll want to head right there after eating dinner and won't leave for the next twenty-four hours. It's best to give some sort of guidance."

"I think we still have a staff meeting at 0800 tomorrow," Carey replied. "If you want to come when we're done with that, that'll be fine by me."

"I'll see you in the morning."

Captain Janeway had arrived with Admiral Paris and Izzy and they grabbed a table. "Get a good tour of the ship?" Tom asked his father.

"It's quite impressive, considering it's gone almost seven years without a dry dock," he replied. "Apparently I taught my protégé how to run a ship."

"Sure, Dad," Tom replied, rolling his eyes. "It was all about you."

Owen chuckled. "Izzy has her own, personalized tour of the ship scheduled for tomorrow morning," he said, smiling down at his granddaughter.

"Oh?" Tom asked Izzy, who nodded.

"Did you know that Naomi Wildman is Voyager's ambassador?" she asked him excitedly. "We met her when Captain Janeway was showing us around. I mean, I kinda already knew her, because we were pen pals over the datastream, but I actually met her today. She's only five, but she's taller than me. She's going to give me a tour of the ship tomorrow and then teach me how to play kadis-kot."

"Naomi is an excellent ambassador," Paris replied. "It'll be a great tour of the ship." Actually, it would probably involve going a lot of places he wasn't sure any six-year-old should be going, much less one who wasn't born and raised on a space ship.

"She also told us what Mr. Neelix had prepared for dinner tonight," Owen continued, then frowned dubiously.

"You should replicate something," Paris was quick to say. "Let's just say Neelix's cooking is an acquired taste. And acquired out of necessity."

"Can I try it?" Izzy asked excitedly.

"You have an odd sense of adventure, kiddo," B'Elanna said. "But have at it if you want."

"Guess you didn't get your mother's pickiness when it comes to food," Tom joked.

"If you grew up on gagh and blood pie, you'd be particular about what you ate, too," B'Elanna replied mildly. "And you're a fine one to talk. You'd eat pepperoni pizza every night of the week if you could get away with it."

"You do know that I'm going to be doing that for at least the next six months, right?" he joked back. Except he really wasn't sure he was joking. "Besides, I've had enough adventure to last me for a while. Culinary or otherwise."

"Please," B'Elanna scoffed. "We all know Parises don't turn their backs on adventure, this one included. Even Nicki had to get in on the action while you were gone."