Letters Home
Voyager has been in the Delta Quadrant for just over ten years now. They have been in contact with Starfleet via Pathfinder for four years, thanks to Reg Barclay. These are the letters members of the senior staff wrote to their families.
Usual disclaimers apply; I just can't be bothered writing one at the moment.
To: Admiral Owen Paris, Starfleet Command
From: Lieutenant Commander Thomas Eugene Paris, USS Voyager
Hi Dad
I know it wasn't really necessary to include the formality in the beginning, but I wanted to show you how much I have achieved here.
When I was in the penal colony in New Zealand ten years ago, I know you weren't very proud of my actions, but Kathryn Janeway was the only person in Starfleet who gave me a second chance.
You probably know I was only originally an 'observer' on Voyager when we left Deep Space Nine for the Badlands, but once the Caretaker had brought us to the Delta Quadrant and our helmsman was killed in the process, I was the most qualified pilot on the ship, and I still am.
The only person with a worse record in shuttlecraft destruction is Commander Chakotay. I have only blown the Delta Flyer up once; he's destroyed about three or four different shuttles. In my defence, the Flyer was blown up by the Borg, so I think that's pretty acceptable. And, I helped B'Elanna rebuild it.
She's another person I need to talk about, B'Elanna. So what if she was a Maquis? That's part of the reason I ended up in prison. No, B'Elanna Torres, Chief Engineer, my friend, my lover, my wife, mother of our children.
B'Elanna and I were married at the end of our sixth year in the Delta Quadrant, and she gave birth to Miral, our eldest, nine months later. Our daughter, stubborn like her mother, decided to make her grand entrance in the middle of our grandest fight with the Borg.
Miral Paris, also a Klingon saviour, is now three years old. Imogen Marie Paris is fast approaching 18 months, and little Ryan Edward, our youngest, is only six months old, but is already tearing into everything. Our three rascals, as much as we love them, are loved by everyone else on board. We are like a family, especially the senior staff, and nobody has a problem finding babysitters, but the way everyone is pairing off and reproducing, we may need to start day care and schooling programs.
I'm so lucky to have my family, something I never felt I had on Earth. B'E and I have a great relationship and so many caring friends, our closest being Harry, Chakotay, Kathryn, Annika, the Doctor and, surprisingly, Tuvok. Miral, Immy and Ryan even have close friends, who, ironically, happen to be 18 month olds Taya and Kimmy Janeway and 2 year old James Kim, the offspring of our own family.
Life on Voyager has done many things to benefit me. I have learned respect; responsibility; the need to suffer the consequences of my actions. I may have been punished for crimes I have committed, but each punishment has taught me a lesson. Now, ten years after Kathryn pretty much rescued me from New Zealand, I have a wife, three beautiful children, and a family that grows every week. I'm living the life I never dreamed I would be given the chance to even witness, so don't think any less of me for what I'm about to say.
It wouldn't kill me if Voyager never made it home.
I have everything I could ever wish for here in the Delta Quadrant. This ship has become our home, our lives. We have rebuilt just about every component of every major system to adapt it to our needs. The crew are happy, the children are growing, and everyone gets a chance to see good old Tom Paris have his ego wounded by the Captain in a game of pool every week or so.
So, I'm happy.
Dad, I miss you, and I hope you can forgive me for all the things I have done in the past. But that's just where they are – in the past. I have served my time for any actions that have put me into trouble, and face it, there have been a lot. But with every passing year on Voyager, I put more and more of those incriminating acts behind me, and so should you.
What's done is done, dad, there's not much you can do to change that. Just be grateful that I am happy. And think, when Voyager does make it back to the Alpha Quadrant, she will most likely be commanded by someone's son or daughter, a direct descendant of the original crew.
When we return home, in the next decade or so hopefully, Kathryn Janeway will still be in the command chair, Chakotay by her side. I will be at the helm; B'E in Engineering; Harry at Ops; Tuvok at Tactical/Security; Annika at Astrometrics. We will all be returning home, stationed in the positions we have faithfully served at for many years, doing the jobs we love, that our children are born to do. Though we cannot guarantee what field of study they will pursue, everyone will make sure they have a Starfleet education from the time they enter school.
Farewell, Dad, and say hi to Mom, Moira, Kathleen and everyone else for me.
Yours truly, from the crowded nursery in the Paris quarters, Delta Quadrant,
Your son,
Thomas
Admiral Owen Paris wiped the tears from his eyes as he finished reading the letter his son had sent him from the Delta Quadrant.
He was amazed that Tom had grown that much in ten years; he had matured, married, was raising a family. He was a better man, a better father, than Owen ever was to him.
As he sat silently at his desk, thinking, reminiscing, remembering his son, Owen realised something.
His little boy had grown up.
No longer was he Tom Paris, the embarrassment of the family, but now he's Lieutenant Commander Thomas Eugene Paris, husband, father, officer, friend. He had made something of himself.
For that, Owen was truly grateful. His boy was happy. Sure, he had adjusted to the prospect of never seeing his biological family again, but why would that worry him if he was already surrounded by his family?
Standing up, the Admiral sighed. It was time to go home, to his own family. Maybe he should spend some time with them, just like Thomas did with his wife and children.
Oh well, he thought, as he exited his office. At least he's happy.