*9*

Paris, Federation Diplomatic Corps,

April 11

Ambassador Shuba Diaza was more than a bit disgusted. His well earned vacation on Andor had been delayed once again - this time by a request from President M'Renn to handle a 'first contact' with a Delta Quadrant race. Only it wasn't a true first contact, as Voyager had had dealings with them years earlier.

He sighed. And in true high-handed Starfleet style, Voyager's captain had managed to make a mess of the whole thing.

Well, he'd made a career of cleaning up Starfleet's messes. These Vidiians sounded just different enough that it might be interesting. He picked up the PADD he'd been reading before his pre-tea nap. This was Starfleet for you, full of rules and regulations-which their ships and captains never actually appeared to follow. Not only had the initial contact gone badly, but he wasn't sure the most recent ones had gone much better. A pity he hadn't been there from the start. At the very least, Starfleet should have called him in months ago when a representative of the Vidiians had apparently contacted a Vulcan intermediary. Diaza wasn't terribly impressed with the Vulcan diplomatic skills either, truth be told.

He glanced back at the PADD in front of him, which detailed Voyager's various encounters with the Vidiians during the first years of its now fabled journey. Vidiia: Land of the Body Snatchers...

He shook his head. It probably hadn't been a good idea to attend the Terran Vid Festival with Ambassador Drake the other night. He'd never understood the Terran fascination with science fiction or fantasy. Contemporary holofilms were bad enough. But the material in the Festival, Drake had proudly told him, was several centuries old. Diaza had not been impressed. Two dimensional characters in a two dimensional video experience. He'd dozed off halfway through some story about sand.

He continued to read through the files, pushing the images of the movie "The Body Snatchers" out of his head. The report was poorly written-full of sensationalism and wild accusations about slave labor and organ 'harvests.' He'd yet to read an unbiased Starfleet first contact report, but this one was the absolute worst.

"Glera," he said loudly enough for his administrative assistant in the outer room to hear. "As soon as Daeja Thev arrives, show her in."

"Yes, sir," Glera responded.

He moved ahead to another report, this one detailing the structure of current Vidiian society.

"Sir," Glera said as she poked her head into his office. "Commander Daeja Thev is here."

"Excellent." Daeja entered his office.

"Ambassador," she said.

"Ah, Commander. Please, take a seat. So good of you to arrive promptly. I hope I wasn't interrupting anything?" he inquired graciously.

"Just grading papers, sir," Daeja said politely.

"Your classes are going well?"

"I have no complaints, Ambassador."

"I was wondering if you would be interested in a Sabbatical?"

"Sir?" Her antennae twitched-he hoped it was because she was interested.

"Yes, I need an attaché on my next mission-one who is very familiar with Starfleet protocols-and command styles."

Daeja looked puzzled. "I thought you were on an extended vacation, Ambassador."

He smiled. "So did I, but I was called back to deal with a most interesting diplomatic assignment." Her antennae straightened. She must have some idea what he was talking about. "I'm sure you've heard that Voyager's mission has been modified from its original parameters."

"Yes, I have, sir." She added, "Captain Janeway is a personal friend of mine."

Diaza nodded. He was already quite aware of that fact-and it was a major reason he had called Thev to his office today. "I have been asked to head the diplomatic mission, as well as govern the colony that will be established in the Delta Quadrant. It's a year long assignment, maybe longer." He cleared his throat. "Commander, you have an impressive background in both legal and diplomatic affairs-precisely the sort of skills this mission requires. I'd like you to accompany me." He said it as if she had choice, but Admiral Hayes had already approved his request.

"I understand, sir." He was sure she did-that her legal expertise wasn't the sole reason he was so eager to have her aboard. She was to act as an intermediary between Captain Janeway and himself. "Do you know when the mission will start?"

"June 25th. I believe this is after the Academy semester is over?" At her nod, he continued, "Good. We are not expected to be on board the Federation ship until twenty four hours prior to departure, but a great deal of planning and preparation for the mission must take place before then, of course. I've arranged for you to receive the daily briefings."

"Which ship will the diplomatic contingent be traveling on?"

"Pioneer, which will be transporting the colonists and their goods," Diaza said, his antennae flattening against his head in displeasure. He would have to talk to Admiral Hayes again about the ship assignment. Protocol dictated that he and his staff be assigned quarters on the flagship, which in this case would have been Voyager. Even the Odyssey would have been preferable.

"And have you already been in contact with the Vidiians, sir?"

He smiled. She was well informed, as he expected. Even though the change in Voyager's mission wasn't classified, only a few people knew the details. "I am expecting to hear from the Pathfinder people in the next couple of days. My understanding is that the Vidiians have been given the information to build the necessary equipment so we can communicate." Diplomacy was his forte-he left the engineering details to his staff. "Thank you, Commander."

Daeja bowed. "Thank you, sir. It's been a long time since I've been on a deep space mission."

Ten minutes later, Daeja was in her office and at her communications console. "Kathryn, you won't believe what just happened."

Kathryn Janeway smiled. "Let's see. A first year student explained the complexities of the Troilen Treaty?"

They both laughed. "No, Ambassador Diaza just asked me to join his staff. I'll be going to Delta Quadrant with you. Well, not quite with you, but on board the Pioneer."

"Just as long as it's not on Voyager," Janeway muttered. "Sorry. I haven't had much contact with the Ambassador, but I've gotten the distinct impression that he isn't very, uh, fond of me."

Daeja laughed. The feeling was obviously mutual. "It's not you, Kathryn. The Ambassador is just not particularly fond of Starfleet captains in general. He believes ensigns are better qualified for first contact missions. Their training is still fresh, so they won't do anything to soil the nest before the diplomats arrive."

This brought another laugh from Kathryn.

"This time, Kathryn, you won't be leaving the bureaucracy behind," Daeja said, only half-joking.

"I'm counting on you to protect me from the worst of it," Kathryn retorted. "Well, if you're coming along, then you no longer have any excuse not to come to Mars and see my new ship. Consider it research. I'll cook a pot roast."

"Oh no you won't," Daeja said immediately. "Not unless Chakotay is doing the cooking. Otherwise, I insist we go out for dinner." She paused. "Speaking of your ship, have you had any more problems?"

"Just some minor glitches. Nothing like the disasters we had last December."

"I heard you scared the contractors."

"According to Chakotay, that's an understatement. Actually, all I did was get rid of the civilian workers and put the fear of God in the Starfleet ones. As a result, things are going very well." She added, "If the mission parameters hadn't been changed, we would have easily made our launch date at the end of February."

"You sound impatient to get back to the Delta Quadrant."

"June isn't that far away," Kathryn looked away from the screen for a second. "I have to go. B'Elanna's ready for me down in engineering. Welcome aboard."

Daeja closed the connection and leaned back in her chair. "This could be interesting."

*10*

New Orleans, French Quarter

April 15

Neelix hummed happily as he threaded his way through the crowded market, nodding and smiling at those who greeted him as he passed by. He loved New Orleans' historic French market, and tried to shop there as often as he could. He was laden with packages, the results of several satisfying bargaining sessions with his favorite vendors. He was well known to most of them at this point, not only because of his very public association with Voyager and his status as Delta Quadrant Ambassador, but also because of his growing reputation as an innovative and knowledgeable chef. He had one final purchase to make before he headed home, and he stopped in front of Madame Lafleur's booth and set down his parcels, so he would be able to choose exactly what he wanted.

"Monsieur Neelix," she greeted him with a wide smile. "Bienvenue. Welcome."

"Why thank you Madame," he responded. "Your booth looks particularly festive today." Neelix stood back to admire the array of color before him. "Those flowers - what are they?" He asked her, pointing to a particularly striking bouquet of pink and red heart-shaped flowers on long sturdy stems.

"Ah yes," those are unusual aren't they. I am not able to get them very often these days, although they used to be more common," she told him. "They are called tropical heliconia, and those," she said pointing to another bunch beside them, "are red ginger. They are of the Zingiberaceae family. An edible root," she added, knowing without a doubt that would seal the deal.

"I'll take them," Neelix said predictably, and they both grinned. "All of them. They're perfect."

"Tres bien," she said. "I'll wrap them for you, Monsieur."

"Merci Madame," Neelix replied, as she'd taught him during one of their many exchanges.

She nodded and began to bundle the two bunches together.

"How is your husband these days?" he asked her. "Has he been traveling to the jungles recently?"

Neelix was genuinely interested. He and Sarexa had become friendly enough with the Lafleurs that they had even dined together one or two occasions. They found them to be an interesting couple, with some fascinating stories to tell about their search for unusual flowers in some very exotic locations.

"Not so much any more, he has finally found a reliable supplier who is able to send us blooms like these on a more regular basis," she replied, and pulled a long piece of sturdy brown paper out from under the counter. "And your lovely wife? How is she?"

"She's fine, Madame. She'll be home later this evening. She's been doing some teaching at one of the preparatory colleges in the northeast. I'm very proud of her," he added.

"And is it a special occasion, Monsieur?" she asked as she worked.

"Yes indeed, Madame," he replied. "I have some exciting news, and these flowers will definitely add color to our celebration." He paused, obviously waiting for her next question.

"Can you share, Monsieur?" she asked him, knowing he would.

"I've finally got an official assignment," Neelix told her excitedly. "And it's the best one I could ever have hoped for."

She stopped her work and waited for him to continue. "I...we...are being sent back to the Delta Quadrant on the new ship..."

"Ah, yes...the second Voyager. I saw a feature on it on last week's news vid."

"And I, as Ambassador, will of course be part of the official delegation."

"Well congratulations, Monsieur, and bon chance," Madame Lafleur said as she handed him his package.

"Thank you Madame," he replied. "Thank you very much," he placed the bouquet carefully into one of his bags. "I'll see you again next week, though," he said as he picked up his parcels, and prepared to leave. "Perhaps you can find me some of those Birds of Paradise again. Sarexa really liked them. And they lasted a long time."

"I'll see what I can do Monsieur," she replied. "Enjoy the flowers - and your celebration," she added.

But Neelix had already disappeared into the crowd.

*11*

San Francisco, Starfleet Academy Dormitory Complex, April 22

"Hey!"

At the sound of her roommate's voice, Naomi looked up from her desk. Joanne Freunde was in a clean uniform, but her long red hair flowed in a loose and definitely non-regulation cascade down her back. Joanne was an acceptable roommate, but she was really quite vain about her hair. The fact that she was showing it off meant that she was going out. "Where are you headed?" Naomi asked.

"A bunch of us are going to catch the new Ryan Ralston holoflick and then get a drink. Want to come?"

Naomi shook her head. She didn't share the obsession with the young actor that afflicted so many of her classmates. "Thanks anyway. I need to finish this letter to my folks."

Joanne shrugged. "Whatever." Flinging her hair artistically over her shoulder, she left.

Naomi returned to blank monitor that she had been staring at for twenty minutes. With a small sigh, she began dictating.

"Hi, Mom and Dad," she began. "I'm glad to hear everything is going well at the new station. You're right, I was worried about you, but not so much because of the distance. Mostly I was worried that things weren't as settled in the Gamma Quadrant as we'd been told. It sounds like the Founders are living up to their end of the treaty, though. I'm glad Operations got the problem with your quarters straightened out. Why would anyone design living quarters directly beneath the main generator room, anyway? And why would they ever give them to someone with a brand new baby?

"Oh - thanks for the picture." Naomi opened a new screen to look again at the image of her new little sister, taken only moments after birth. The little face was flushed but instead of crying, she seemed to be looking around with a great deal of curiosity. "She's really beautiful, isn't she? I can't tell if those are horns forming on her forehead, or just her fingers at a weird angle. And I like all the names you mentioned, except one. I don't care if it is your grandmother's name, Mom, you just can't name her Wilma Wildman. She'd never live it down.

"A lot has been happening here. Not to me. All I do is go to class, or to Archery practice, or to the library to study. It's Voyager I'm talking about. Or rather, the Delta Quadrant Task Force. Have you heard about it? There are three ships going back to the Delta Quadrant, and one of them is Voyager II. Captain Janeway is going to lead the task force, and a lot of our old shipmates are going with her. A few, like Harry Kim, would be on the other escort ship, the Odyssey. The third ship, the Pioneer, is carrying a load of colonists who will settle on New Earth. I don't really remember that place, Mom, but perhaps you do."

She stopped, and drew a single, slow breath. "The thing is, Neelix and Sarexa are going with them. They just couldn't turn down the chance to get back to Talaxia. I can't blame them, really."

Her voice was starting to waver, so she paused the recording. When her parents had told her that they were taking a posting in the Gamma Quadrant, they had promised her that Neelix would still be there for her. Neelix had told her the very same thing. He had cried when he told her he was leaving, and Naomi had cried with him. She felt very much alone. All the adults she loved were at least a full quadrant away.

But she was a Starfleet cadet now, and by every standard that counted, an adult herself. She was too grown up to cry about it. The problem was, she didn't feel like an adult. She felt like a little girl.

Dashing a renegade tear off her cheek, she continued. "Don't worry about me, though. Admiral and Mrs. Paris told me I can consider their house my home during breaks and stuff, and that I can count on them. I'll be fine. It's just - I'll miss everyone. I wish I was old enough to go with them."

That sounded just a little too self-pitying, and she stopped again to regroup. Find the silver lining, she told herself. Mrs. Paris said there was always a silver lining if you just looked hard enough.

Well, Icheb had been paying a lot more attention to her since Neelix broke the news. He'd even broken a date with Mialla to take her to his parents' house for dinner. She had a feeling, though, that her mother wouldn't regard that as a silver lining. Probably better not to mention it, she decided.

"The thing is, I'm okay," she said as she resumed recording. "We're really busy and Icheb and Griff are making sure I don't get lonely. We start the practical for the survival course next week, which means I won't have much chance to think about anything but which bugs are edible and which aren't for a while.

"I miss you guys. I think about you and the baby a lot. You have to show her my picture every day and tell her about her big sister. Take care of her, and of each other, and stay safe. I love you."

She ended the recording and leaned back in her chair. It was only 20:00 hours, and she was caught up on all her studies. Maybe she could catch up with Joanne and the others after all.

Her comm channel sounded, and she hit the "accept" control. Suddenly she was looking at Icheb. "Are you busy?" he asked. His face was slightly flushed, and he was speaking rapidly.

"Not really. What's the matter?"

"I just got tickets to Dr. Fanari's lecture on genetic reconstruction," he said. "It starts in twenty minutes. Do you want to go?"

"You're kidding," she breathed. Ganal Fenari was the leading genetics researcher on Adigeon Prime, a neutral world that permitted genetic manipulation. His lecture at Starfleet Academy had been offered to faculty and upperclassmen first, and had immediately filled. Icheb had been despondent. "How did you get the tickets?"

"Thank your roommate," he said. "Joanne convinced a couple of seniors that they'd have better luck with her group tonight than the lecture. Donello gave me his tickets."

"I'm there," she said. "Meet you in the lobby in two minutes."

Smiling, he nodded as he closed the link. As soon as the screen was dark, Naomi realized that he had called her, not Mialla.

Things were definitely looking up.